|| Chapter 32 || Won't you look for me?

Moulin blinked, his bright eyes appeared innocent and vulnerable. "Yes..."

Alsander grinned. His arm tightened around Moulin as he inched his face closer. "I'm quite saddened that you weren't expecting me at all. Not even a single letter..."

Moulin wanted to reply; "We're not even that close...", but he only kept his mouth shut and helplessly looked at him. He glanced at Pola, who immediately understood. She quietly left in soft steps.

"Ao!"

Snow refused to go with her despite her gentle coaxes and persistently rubbed on Moulin's leather-covered calves. This brat. Moulin sighed and waved his hand at Pola, telling her to leave the little fox to him. Alsander chuckled at the Snow's little antics. He was itching to vigorously rubbed that fluffy fur of pure white but restrained himself, this wasn't just an ordinary fox, it was a very dangerous one. One which countless highborn people wished to possess and tame, it was an extremely ancient mystic beast. If Moulin wasn't a noble child from the Grand Fraunces household, his little companion might be taken from him so effortlessly.

Once Pola had left, Moulin picked up Snow and faced Alsander who was grinning stupidly. His forehead creased, "You look very delighted... Should I ask why?"

"Your little pet is adorable. You two make quite the pair"

Snow suddenly growled at him, silver eyes matching his master's equally intimidating glare. Moulin really did not like the sound of adorable describing him. Although, he was oblivious of the fact that his sole reputation in the estate exactly describes him like this.

"You must feel really hot, Young master Alsand-"

"Alan..." The amber-eyed young man interrupted, "we agreed didn't we?"

"Ah..." Moulin paused, "... Alan"

"I really wasn't expecting you to arrive this soon. However, since you're here, would you like to join me for tea?"

"It would be a pleasure" Alsander quipped. His eyes traced the young man's silver irises beneath those long whit lashes. Suddenly, he remembered the youth's striking archer form days ago. The skies were layered with black and a red haze of smoke rose in the air, yet the figure of white, bravely standing on the pavilion's roof with his dazzling bow of ice aimed to fire, rescuing their suffocating lives. He saw it all... It was captivating...

He spoke not a single word as both Moulin and he went to Moulin's private sitting room. Pola had already prepared high-quality tea and snacks, her hands were very decorative and reliable. She bowed and led Alsander to his seat as Moulin excused himself so that he could change his sweaty clothes.

Not more than a few minutes later, Moulin returned fresh and comfortable.

"I'm sorry to hear about the Midnight garden." Moulin expressed his worries to him, truthfully, he was saddened by the situation. However, judging by Alan'sⁿ expression he doesn't seem to be too affected.

"It's an old piece of land, the flowers are aged and old. It didn't matter to me." He shook his head, "Sure the flowers were precious, however, it isn't the only source of cultivation in this small world."

Moulin nodded as if he understood. Alan might be okay with it but perhaps his parents didn't take the situation lightly. With such a garden like that, it was such a waste for it to only be burned away into ashes.

"Oh, Moulin." Alsander's eyes lit up, a cheeky smile on his face. "... I believe you've already heard of the news. Surprising isn't it? How does it feel to be the center of the Circle's attention?"

Moulin frowned, quipped by Alan's jesting tone, and the intimate way he called him, yet he still responded, "You did this".

"Well, the least of it..." Alan says before taking a all from his cup, "You're not too affected by the news are you? I can always switch it to the other one", there was a teasing a smile in his eyes.

Of course, Moulin knew what he meant by 'the other one' and he stared at the amber-eyed man with a plain look, "Did you really come here to just joke with me? Or is there something inside your mind that you're unwilling to tell me?"

I want to dissect you!

Alan coughed and smiled, "I only wanted to strengthen our bond of friendship. Truthfully, I am one lonely master. Always alone with no one to share my thoughts and studies with. Would you derive me the pleasure of relishing the strength of our friendship?"

We only met once, what friendship? Honestly, his eyes are the only ones honest about him. Moulin internally sighed.

"I heard that you were recruited by the Azuran Academy. The Imperial palace must have their eyes on you. What an honor"

Moulin's frown deepened, "Honor?... On the contrary, I feel rather disappointed. They came to by daybreak to barge inside my home and disrupt the peace of my parents. What honor? I plan to turn down their offer and shall send them a letter tomorrow."

Alan froze. He looked at Moulin. Is he serious? "You really intend to reject them?"

"Is there anything wrong with that?"

Alan paused.

"No... Not at all." He continued. What a brave soul. No one had ever rejected the Academy's offer before though, Alan wondered about Moulin's intentions. He gazed at the cup in his hands, "What a waste though... If you reject them, others may try to coerce you to join in. The Azuran academy Is an Auronian guild academy created by the imperial family. They have a bountiful resource and produced increasingly wonderful maeruthans. I heard your second brother joined a guild there"

Moulin nodded, "He did...". Emlen will probably be dishearted by his decision though, "You almost sound like you want me to join the Academy guilds."

Alan looked up from his cup, a corner of his lips lifted, "I think it would suit you... to be a sentinel guild member."

Yes, it definitely would. The silver glint of Moulin's eyes when he aimed to destroy and the kind heart to save those who are helpless. He would look so heroic and stunning. However, he didn't want Moulin to spend all his days traveling about, perhaps he would even forget Alan existed.

"..." Moulin furrowed his brows in confusion. Suit him? His limbs are like fresh green stems completely different from the usual strong person in this world.

"But it is your decision, I don't have to interfere..." Alan threw a small creamed cake into his mouth and chewed loudly. His laidback attitude almost made Moulin miss his previously lazy life stuck in his room, writing whatever the hell it was.

"Enough about that, let me tell you about my mythological studies of the three-hundred forty-six ruins in lands of Rafelon. The blight of the Red War is as interesting as it was devastating..."

He began to narrate his whole research in detail rendering Moulin helplessly listen to him. The minutes stretched and Moulin found it quite intriguing as the young man's eyes sparkle with excitement as well as an unusual obsession as he spoke every sentence. He himself was also lost to the mystical words Alan would spout. Truly, Corhan was such a fascinating world.

A pair of aristocratic young men conversed. Two hours passed and the little fox curling on his velvety cushion lifted his head up, finding the sound of the ticking clock very loud.

Tick...

Tick...

Tick...

As the Vernallian noble blabbed about his work, Moulin stopped. His smile flattened as he glanced at the wooden crystal-powered tambour clock above the bookshelf. A quarter past ten.

For some reason, he felt an ominous chill. Perhaps, he was just imagining things. The weather was fine and the room was warm it wasn't possible. He turned his attention back to Alsander and replied to his question.

Tick...

Tick...

Tick...

Snow whimpered out of the blue, he turned to Moulin who was chuckling and nodding his head at the man before him.

Moulin seems to notice Snow's gaze and shifted his attention to him. He noticed the little fox was staring at him with impassive eyes. Snow slowly pointed his snout on the clock above the shelf.

Moulin looked at the clock naturally. It was already half-past ten.

Tick...

Tick...

Tick...

"Loud..."

Moulin narrowed his eyes.

There was it again. The creepy feeling crawling into his skin. His fingers fidgeted, turning pale.

Cold it was unusually cold...

It was hair-raising. As if he wouldn't want to know what would happen next.

Then he realized Alan had gone silent.

Moulin had forgotten that he had muttered out loud, Alan must've thought it was directed at him. Moulin quickly turned his head preparing to apologize. However, he froze instead.

The clock turned silent.

Moulin's eyes were frozen open.

He stared, Stared at the dreadful white eyes of the man in front of him. Alsander was looking at him with whitened pupils, gone was the sunset amber glory of them. He sat there with a blank face, not blinking. Like a doll, unmoving, eyes staring straight into him.

"Alan?"

There was something incredibly wrong. As seconds passed, this time, unaccompanied by the ticking, Moulin called out again but there was no response.

The man only sat there, staring.

Moulin felt a horrendous shiver up his spine.

"Won't..."

Moulin flinched, Alan had spoken. But the voice wasn't his. His heart drummed.

It was a voice Moulin was extremely familiar with, the child-like tone, speaking in a whisper in his sleep.

"Won't... you look for me?"

Alsander smiled. A smile which made Moulin very hesitant and somewhat... sensitive to the emotion of the voice. He wasn't asleep, right now he was very conscious and he didn't know how to react.

Seeing that Moulin wasn't answering him, Alsander's smile fell, "Look for me... please?... Don't waste a chance... "

The tone was broken almost like a plead. There was misery in his voice as though he was at the brink of crying.

Moulin's heart suddenly tightened. He didn't know why but it hurts. However, no words came out fro his mouth... he did not know what to even say. His silver eyes gazed achingly at the lonesome white pupils of the man before him.

What was he feeling?

Where... Where can he find... him?

TICK!

In a split second, the world lightened and warmed. As if what had happened didn't exist.

Moulin stared at the continuously blabbering Vernallian young lord before him. The sunset amber eyes of Alan returned as though it had never changed in the first place. He was still smilingly explaining the folklore of the people in Rafelon and throwing little cakes into his open mouth.

Moulin's gaze was unfocused, he swallowed. Where... did it all go? The chill of the room, the silence of the clock, the... child's voice. His fingers unconsciously dug into the armrest in his right. He knew it had happened before him.

He spoke to him. The child had spoken right in front of him. He could hear the drumming of his heart, pounding within his chest. Moulin's eyes darted around in confirmation. Everything had turned to normal.

"Moulin, are you alright?"

The call sounded louder in his ears and Moulin flinched. He turned his gaze to Alsander who as confused.

"You look unwell. Is something the matter?"

"... Ah"

Moulin blinked and fixed his expression, "No, I'm fine. I just noticed the room had warmed."

"Oh, the weather had become warmer, hasn't it..." Alan looked out of the window, once again stuffing his mouth with sweets.

"Ah, yes. I believe so..."

Lowering his gaze, Moulin's voice trailed off. He glanced at Snow in the corner of his eyes. The little fox also stared at him. Moulin knew Snow had seen it too. With a small growl, Snow jumped off from his cushion unto Moulin's lap.

Alan jumped in surprise. The little beast was clingy to his master more than he thought.

Snow nestled closer to Moulin's waist, his beady eyes worriedly looking at him. The youth's lids lowered slightly. Moulin yearned to learn the truth. What had happened wasn't just an occurrence, perhaps, it was a sign.

He wanted to uncover the secrets probing him to find them. Like an itch he couldn't scratch. His mind was jumbled. Confusion to curiosity, his mind wanted to delve into the tiniest bit of clues he had. A swirl of questions pushing him to find the truth.

The voice spoke of a chance...

What chance should he not waste? Should he even think of it literally?

As the youth was still stuck in his thoughts, the hours passed like the winter wind.

The warm air of the day unhurriedly cooled and the breeze of the approaching night came about. The evening lights were lit and the estate grew brighter as the dark approaches.