9 || Chapter 9 || A Weapon After The Farewell

The snow had ceased. Rising shades of pink and purple overwhelmed the ink-blue sky. The white wintry landscape has turned into a hazy tint of pink and silence settled through each part of the mountain.

A small head of wavy silver hair shifted gently by its body's movements crouching on the deep snowy ground. Pale hands pressed on tightened snow. A little chuckle was heard outside the cave.

"Snow, you little brat" Moulin muttered, tiny flakes of snow were stuck on both his eyelashes after a certain little fox's playful stunt of kicking a pile of snow at his face. "Don't do that again".

Snow ran circles around his master making a sound of understanding. It tripped on the hem of Moulin's robes and rolled on the snow twice.

The little master ignored the fox contemplating if this little creature was really a fox or a dog. He finished his work of art and cleaned his hands of the snow in satisfaction. "Done..."

Snow stopped by his master's side and slanted his head at what was in front of him."...?"

"This is what you call a snowman" Moulin presented, his eyes gleaming. "We've got no carrots for the nose so I used a pebble instead"

The snowman in front of the pair of man and fox was three balls of snow stacked on top of each other with small stones for the eyes, nose, and mouth. It had thin branches for arms and it doesn't look anything like a man at all. It was only 10 inches tall. From the fox's perspective, it looked like a small troll ready to pick a fight with him. Eyes narrowing with hostility, the white fox growled at the snowman.

"..." Moulin lifted a hand and patted Snow's head "What's wrong with you?"

Unknowingly, A dark shadow loomed over the frame of Moulin. The silver-headed boy under his gaze looked very defenseless and frail. An excellent prey for the wicked and the selfish. The blood in his veins rushed inside him as his lips turned up into a harmless smile. "It seems that your little friend is threatened with this 'snowman' of yours".

Moulin had already sensed the man when he strode behind him. He carefully picked up his friend fox and stood up to confront the man behind him. "You haven't left yet?..."

Hadrian felt that Moulin really wanted to get rid of him soon. Regardless, he ignored the tone of the youth and spoke "I wanted to ask you something..."

Moulin stared blankly at him. "...What is it that you wanted to ask?". There was no more of the formality between him and the man. He was leaving anyway, he didn't care anymore. Hadrian's guard was recovering gradually and he needed a doctor's assistance for his complete recovery.

The godly man in front of Moulin looked into his eyes. A few golden strands were messily sticking out from his head, this single irregularity completely shattered his supposedly determined appearance. After last night's conversation, Moulin was full of thoughts. He admits he was a bit childish like a child afraid of his plaything being stolen. Perhaps it was because his cautiousness hadn't subsided after the fight with the assassins. Nonetheless, he felt a faint guilt. Sleep had enabled him to clear his mind.

"Come with me..." The man voiced out these words. He would not force Moel to follow them if he would refuse. But he would give him the chance to change his mind about staying here.

Moulin calmly stared at the man. Internally, his thoughts were cluttered and confusing. This was a great chance to leave this place and truly discover the world beyond the vast snowy mountains of the north. However, he was hesitant and afraid. He was scared of the beautifully dangerous things and wonders this world had to give to him. He was anxious about the unfamiliarity and strangeness yet very curious.

Perhaps, a little longer...

Moulin reached out his hands and unconsciously adjusted the flying hair strands of the man in front of him. The golden sun's eyes widened at the gentle approach. Looking fixedly at the tender expression, Hadrian discovered the glinting silver eyes were like warm impenetrable diamonds.

Moulin flinched at his actions and immediately lowered his hand. Why did he do that? He felt strange and confused. He was thinking too hard that he didn't realize his movements. He hadn't felt this distracted for a long time.

"I cannot go with you..." Moulin avoided his eyes, embarrassed. "... I'm going to stay here a little bit longer". There was a faint hesitance in his tone but he truly meant what he said.

Hadrian had already expected the young man's reply. He didn't muse over Moel's refusal and accepted it. There was also an indistinct relief in his heart. The youth's tenderness and purity of his heart would at least be hidden here. In a place hidden from the world, surrounded by freezing mountains and tall trees as far as the eye can see. A place only he knows.

Hadrian nodded, understanding the youth's choice. "Thank you for taking us in ..."

Moulin gave out a pleasing smile at him "Your welcome..." Even though my presence was totally unnecessary and I was only intruding in your fight with the assassins. And you were actually very powerful and could've finished them yourself or when I asked you to leave as soon as possible with your friend or when I was extremely harsh on you last night ... still you're welcome...

"Do you remember the way? Any person could easily get lost in these woods. Almost every tree is identical" Moulin frowned. He was a bit concerned about their departure. The snow was thick, wild animals roamed and it was especially freezing.

Golden eyes sparked. Hadrian noticed Moulin's worries and told him that they only need to know the way back to the river and they could take care of the rest.

"Snow can lead you back" Slender arms placed the fox back on the snowy ground. Snow gazed at the golden-haired man that befriended his master, suspiciously.

Disappointment flashed in Hadrian's eyes. "You aren't sending us off yourself?" Really. The young man before him still finds him distrustful.

Moulin shook his head in response. If he would do so, he might be tempted to reconsider his choices. "Unfortunately, I can't. I have other things to do".

The nobleman searched Moulin's expression for any hints of alibis but realized it wasn't any of his business to meddle with. He calmly watched the young man "I understand. On behalf of my guard, I would like to thank you for saving his life"

An amusing smile appeared on Moulin's pretty face as he glanced somewhere behind Hadrian. "He can tell me that himself..."

"...!"

An injured man with thick bandages visible underneath the high collar of his large black winter cloak silently stood erect a couple of meters away from them. His short-cut Auburn hair revealed his rough eyes and clean jaw. Gleaming brown eyes full of respect fixed on Moulin. "...My Lady!"

A smiling expression cracked. Moulin felt a nerve bulge on his forehead as he scowled at the bold man. Hadrian also frowned as he turned to face his subordinate, who was taken aback by the fierce expressions of the pair in front of him. Did he do something wrong?

"He is a man, Varick. Has your eyesight malfunctioned?" His piercing eyes were so beast-like, Varick's soul shuddered.

"M-My apologies! Please forgive my rudeness!" He bowed his head, regrettable for his actions. The young Ice wielder was quite the stunner he seriously thought the person was female.

Moulin rolled his eyes, internally cursing his 'feminine' face. Was his appearance entirely feminine? He swore his looks had faint maleness in them. This face also shares the same handsomeness as his two brothers. Did these two overlook his masculinity? Moulin expressionlessly waved his hand to greet the redhead male. "How are you?" He asked, completely switching the topic.

Varick smiled cheekily as held his stomach "I am almost fully recovered. Thank you for saving me. I am in your debt". Full of gratitude, he gave a sincere bow of respect at Moulin.

"You are welcome" Moulin nodded at him and shifted his gaze back at the nobleman in front of him. The soul-stunning eyes of gold never failed to astound Moulin no matter how many times he gazed at them. In return, Hadrian watched him, studying every part of Moulin's face.

"I believe is goodbye, Sir Hadrian" Moulin spoke first realizing the man was as silent as a ghost.

"Mn..." Replied the golden-haired man. "I hope we meet again, Moel". If that is really your name... A corner of his mouth turned up.

Moulin chuckled, his eyes were clear and radiant like a crystal lake of ice, beautiful and mesmerizing. "I do hope not. The future is awfully unpredictable, Milord".

Hadrian smirked at him and said nothing. Perhaps, he would really come and visit this captivating young man in the future. He was looking forward to the youth's reaction. The invisible snow-white fox made a small sound and rubbed himself on his master's bare calves before leisurely making its way to the woods, waiting for the guests to follow him.

Hadrian ignored the small creature and looked at Moulin one last time before following the fox. He will meet him again in the future. Varick, the redhead knight, gratefully bowed at Moulin and looked at him for a few seconds before following Hadrian. Footprints marked the deep snow and trailed towards the thick maze-like woods until the two figures disappeared from Moulin's sight.

Unknown to Moulin, The golden-haired nobleman had glanced back at him from far away, imprinting the picture of a small white lonesome figure of a frail young man, barefooted on the snow with the chilly breeze brushing through his silver-white hair and with sharp yet gentle eyes. It was like a godly ethereal painting with a unique beauty that could topple down countries. Hadrian turned his eyes away with a strange smile on his face. One that made Varick shudder uncontrollably, thinking of what his young master could be scheming this time. And whatever it was, he was sure he would not be getting any rest any time soon, injured or not. They traveled away led by an impatient small fox.

A solitary figure stood before a huge frozen lake with the wind caressing his cheeks. Head filled with thoughts. Honestly, after the events yesterday, he realized there were people much stronger than him in both physical strength and power. Moulin knew he needed to train harder and strengthen himself. When the time comes, he will leave this place and face the dangers of the world with a strong soul and body. Currently, this feeble body of his is very weak but it had tremendous internal power. If he could cultivate it further and further then it will greatly ease his worries.

What the voice taught him this time was about utilizing his powers by materializing objects through ice and snow. Of course, easier said than done. Moulin wasn't very confident in his creativity, unlike other people. However, It wouldn't hurt to make an effort. Puffs of cold smoke came out from his mouth while he breathed out. It was hard to be optimistic sometimes.

Closing his eyes, mana coursing through his spiritual veins, and letting the ice control his arms as he directed in his mind. Flicker and flickering. It felt like unknown energy was released from a black hole inside of him. And yet this same hole was bottomless and everlasting. Like painting a picture in his mind, he tried to construct a weapon that he could summon at any time. He didn't even bother to start small and leap to the next level. A comfortable chill ran through every part of his body as his hand reached out into the air unconsciously. His hand was open and his fingers flexed.

His heart beat fast, and his hands shook lightly as snowflakes pieced together in the middle of his palm. Rapidly solidifying and glowing with an intensely bright glare. It stretched outwards leaving behind intricate silver swirls marked into the materializing weapon. Moulin's hand shook lightly at the pressure in his mind. Fine crystal ice weaved itself into a thin unbreakable cord. The materializing weapon swiftly solidified, settling in Moulin's grasp. More puffs of cold smoke escaped from the youth's lips as his light eyelashes trembled before opening themselves.

Gawking at the object in his grip, a rush of excitement wrapped around his heart, floating with joy and a proud sense of accomplishment. Like a wave of happiness enveloping his entire frame. "I made this!!!" He declared proudly.

In his grasp was a crystallized ice bow. It was 4 ft long and silver elegant swirls marked the surface of the limbs. The grip, a snug fit in his grasp, even though it was entirely made of ice it was cool and comfortable with the surface of his skin. Intricate and elegant designs on the string grooves like beautiful silver vines and the gorgeous structure of fragile snowflakes. It gave off an air of sharpness and charm. Although it was a bit plain, it is exactly how Moulin wanted it.

He wanted to try using it. Even though he was clearly an amateur in archery, he felt a deep connection with the weapon in his hand, like a call. His hold on the grip tightened and directed his energy into the bow. Fingers grasping the string, the bow glowed a soft light and a sharp arrow of ice emerged and settled on the arrow rest. Pulling the string with a strong grip and fixing his posture, Moulin aimed seriously at the tip of a tree on the far side of the enormous lake. His heightened senses magnified his vision of his target. All he needed to do was to let go of the string.

"..." Calm breaths. Silver eyes narrowed almost into a glare in full concentration.

Slender fingers relaxed and-

"ao!"

A certain white fox jumped into his legs causing him to wobble and lose his grip on the strings. The aim diverted from its target and shot into somewhere in the woods as fast as lightning, sharp and deadly.

"Snow!!" A loud voice echoed through the mountains.