...

"Achoo!"

A sharp rub on the nose.

Silver eyes glanced to the side where a young lad began to curse the damn cold. The Northern Island of Rafelon was cursed with endless cold. A cold that could freeze one's skin if bare to the deathly touch of ice. Admittedly, Moulin thought it was colder than the Northern mountains where he had first lived.

Although the temperature would undeniably kill, the view was fascinating. Days had passed. Setting camp between the white valley had given them concealment and as well as a beautiful view. The white landscape, the blanket of black trees with snow-covered crowns, and the grey clouds layering the skies with tranquility. With closed eyes, Moulin felt like he had returned to the mountains.

At night a storm was coming. Silver pupils peeked from downcast lashes.

"You there!"

Moulin sighed. He turned in the direction of the voice and recognized one of the men that had ridiculed him nights ago. Concealing the amusement in his eyes, he walked to confront the man with a straight back. With a snort, the man began to spout orders at him with an unusually raised voice. Moulin had to dodge the flying spit knowing it was intentional. When he was dismissed, Moulin narrowed his eyes as he complied with the bastard's orders. He trudged through the deep snow, muttering in his mind. While others had worn thick garments, jackets doubled and their collars wrapped in furs or scarves, he was wearing his usual, the Leonile uniform with his white cape clasped together on his left shoulder.

Hours later he returned to where he stood, behind the tents. However, he minded the possible disturbance he would encounter thus he journeyed a bit further, thinking he would not be far from the camp. He was one of the patrols, however, his main job was to neutralize the snow around the camp at night. It was known that the nights in the Northern Island were especially cold.

Moulin grumbled. What?! Was he brought here to calm snowstorms and blizzards? He cursed a particular someone with gorgeous golden eyes.

He stopped his tracks. His boots pressed deeply on the soft snow. The soles pressing on hard ground. His silver hair danced with the cold wind. It was nearing night. The sunset colors could not be seen beyond the dimming clouds.

Night was approaching and the violent wind swiftly slashed around Moulin. Snowflakes started to fall and they were caught by the harsh gusts. Within the camps, the

"Moulin..."

Moulin didn't turn. "Sir Rowan..."

The gusts had ruthlessly slammed against the tents. The thick wall fabrics strained against the force of it. Outside, sentinels and elves have gathered, and when they experienced the terrifying force of the blizzards. Snow began to accumulate, bringing weight on the tent's roofs.

"Oi! Get it over with already!"

The bossy man shouted behind Moulin. Rowan turned to shoot him a glare. The man was instantly silenced.

With a breath, Moulin felt the wind and snow for a second before he lifted both his hands in the air. Concentrating, his silver eyes glowed and he activated his mana.

Hush.

It lasted only three seconds before a circle of calm fell on the camp. From the foot of Moulin's boots to the center of the calm, in a one-mile radius, was where the snow and wind could not cross. The blizzards evaded the going through the barrier of calmness. Winds changed direction and the snow would only flutter within the interior of the barrier. From where Moulin stood, he could feel the violence of the wind. It was like being shielded by a glass wall.

Once he made sure the barrier would last for a couple of days before he could conjure it again, Moulin let out a groan. He suddenly turned light-headed. Truthfully, this technique had taken a bit much from him. It was even heavier to invoke than summoning his sacred weapon. He needs to train his endurance. And skill.

Moulin exhaled as he furrowed his eyebrows. When he turned, he met Rowan's surprised eyes. Being stared at as if he had proved something pricked Moulin. He didn't like it.

With a bow, he excused himself and ignored the amazed gazes as he journeyed to his own tent. There was light within his tent. When he parted the tent flap with one arm he frowned.

"Why are you here?"

Golden pupils lifted from the book and fixed on the silver-eyed youth staring at him with disapproval. Hadrian shut the book with a thud and gave a faint smile. "Shh"

Moulin furrows his brows. "What?"

With a curved on his lips, Hadrian lifted his arm to reveal the sleeping little fox curled by the man's side. Snuggling on the soft cushions around the lord. Moulin widened his eyes. "How did you..."

"How easy it was..." Hadrian snorted, "This puny beast is as naive as a child. Easily lured after a couple to sweets..."

Moulin's expression fell. "Of course you did..."

He entered the tent. It was cramped. With a single quilt for a bed, a dark thick fabric floored the interior of the tent and a single oil lamp that hanged on the hook of a tent pole. Truly, it was cramped. Moulin was lucky to have a tent of his own. The men and women shared a tent and they were envious for Moulin to have a tent of his own.

"You are consuming the space of my tent." Moulin chided him. As he slightly nudged Hadrian's leg. With Hadrian's build, the man almost took all the area in the tent. "I believe you have a tent of your own, Milord."

"Indeed, I do"

'Then what the hell are you doing here?!' Moulin mentally screamed. He narrowed his silver eyes. His eyes narrowed, even more, when he looked at the slumbering Snow. Little traitor...

As if knowing Moulin's thoughts, a corner of the lord's lips lifted. He reached out his hand and Moulin helplessly took it. In a flash, both of them disappeared.

.. .. .. .. .. . .

"We will be leaving by dawn..." Said Hadrian as he brought a glass of warm water to Moulin who was sitting on the cushioned chaise. Unlike Moulin's cramp tent Hadrian's was more spacious, designed elegantly, and simply as though if anything unexpected might occur, it would not be a bother to tuck everything right away.

Moulin stared at the rugged floors and glanced at Hadrian as he noticed the application of Hadrian's words. "I thought you brought me here to clear off the snow from your roofs..." Moulin sipped the water and let it warm his insides. "Are you saying that you're taking me with you?"

Hadrian stopped. There was wine in his goblet. He swirled it as his eyes narrowed. "I wouldn't if it was unnecessary..." He shifted his gaze to the lithe figure of the youth, making himself comfortable on the chaise couch.

Hadrian secretly traced Moulin's figure, "You did great with the barrier..."

"I'm sure any ice wielder could manage it..." Moulin rolled his eyes.

"I do not think so..."

Moulin paused. Confusion etched his beauteous countenance. "Why? Do you NOT think so?"

Hadrian placed the goblet down on the table. "The company... expected you to create a dome of ice to shield the camp... Even I had thought so, however, you used your mana to create a circular field around the camp. An invisible barrier that deflects the wind and snow. Your control is impressive." Hadrian chuckled. There was pride for his lover in his tone. "A dome of ice would make us visible and it would be harder for the mages to cast concealment magic..."

Moulin blinked.

"I still don't understand why that would be something to be impressed about..." He resumed his drinking.

Lord Hadrian chuckled. He shakes his head as he made his way towards Moulin. With a smile, he bent and brushed the snowflakes off Moulin's hair. He leaned and lifted the youth's chin. Both engaged in a sweet brief kiss before pulling away.

"You said you were taking me with you... Why?" Moulin asked. His eyes fixed on Hadrian's lips as their breaths mingled.

"..." Hadrian lets out a sigh as he replied. "We needed to cover our tracks and someone skilled of the snow and ice as surveillance..."

Moulin's raised an eyebrow as he pulled away, "Isn't that why would brought me here? For surveillance?"

"However, I still do not want you to do it..." Hadrian creased his forehead in frustration. "I'm afr-"

"Just let me do it, Hadrian..." Moulin frowned. "Trust me. Nothing will happen. I can still take care of myself... And I will call if anything happens" Moulin lifted his conveying band. The gem sparkled as he moved his hand.

"..."

With a sigh, Hadrian spoke, "Alright..."

Satisfied, Moulin down the water in his glass, feeling the cozy warmth in his stomach. Suddenly, he leaned and kissed the lord's lips without warning. He smiled giddily and pushed the glass in Hadrian's hands. "Be a dear and put it away..."

Hadrian blinked in surprise. He truly wasn't expecting that. He shakes his head, chuckling. Straightening his back he went to the table to return the emptied glass.

"You won't be alone in surveillance. We have an expert in shield manipulation to accompany you. You two win not part no matter what." Hadrian added.

"Who?" Asked Moulin out of curiosity.

"My Lord, May I enter?"

Before he could receive his answer, Moulin heard a voice outside the tent's entrance. His eyes narrowed as he whipped his gaze to Hadrian in alarm. The man only smirked at him which infuriated the youth.

"Come in..."

Bastard! Moulin exhaled as he fixed himself. He stood up with a straight back and feigned reverence in his eyes. He glared at the amused Lord Hadrian before turning his gaze to the person entering Lord Hercullio's tent.

The person entered. An amused smile graced his face.

Moulin stiffened. His eyes widened in shock. The elegance shattered completely.

The person had short ebony hair. His eyes were of pure ethereal amber.

"Alsander?!"