Chapter 389: || || Recovery (part 2)
Chapter 389: || || Recovery (part 2)
Hadrian stares at the young man sitting on the bed. The youth is graced with serene beauty, as lovely as moonlight. Long silvery hair wavy like sea waves. Silver eyes, radiant and stunning. The world is a blur with him as its center, bright and resplendent like a dazzling white diamond. At the moment, he looked drowsy, drained of energy. The healers said that his recovery would take some time. Perhaps, a few days. Hadrian would give him all the time in the world if it meant that Moulin would be fully healed.
For now, he'll stay in bed for a few days. Their departure from Artheia was near.
Slowly, Hadrian approached Moulin. His golden eyes never strayed away from him.
Moulin's eyes softened, but internally, he felt a wave of anxiety. Is he alright? How many injuries does he have? Shouldn't he be recovering too?
Before Moulin knew it, Hadrian was already in front of Moulin, standing before the edge of the bed, silently staring at the youth. Moulin took a closer look at Hadrian. He examined the man carefully before relief filled his eyes. Hadrian was alright.
But his heart isn't.
Moulin opened his arms, smiling faintly under Hadrian's inexpressive stare. "Balcony."
The man made no movement during the first five seconds. However, he resigned and carefully put his arms around Moulin, carrying the youth out of bed. He held Moulin tight against his chest. Moulin only sighed comfortably as Hadrian left the room and walked toward the couch, situated a short distance from the balcony. The warm breeze welcomed them.
Hadrian sat with his arms around Moulin. Instinctively, Moulin turned to embrace Hadrian's chest and buried his face against the taller man's neck. He silently breathed in his lover's scent, comforted. A large hand gently stroked his head as if to lull him to sleep.
For a few minutes, the two stayed in each other's silence. The curtains fluttered as warm air filled the room. There was nothing that could destroy the calmness between them.
Finally, Hadrian moved, pulling away from Moulin, and grasped the youth's whitened hand, marked with divine swirls of glistening gold. His emotionless gaze finally broke. A layer of softness and lament. He softly kissed Moulin's knuckles.
Moulin could not take the silence anymore. He spoke unhurriedly, "At... that moment, I didn't know what to think..."
"You didn't give up." Hadrian gently whispered against his skin. "You saved these people and restored the land. You are alright now... that's all that matters."
"Mn..." Moulin lowered his head, blinking slowly. "Does it look... bad?"
A smile finally broke into Hadrian's serene face. "It's still a part of you. Nothing of it is 'bad.' The feel of your skin doesn't change."
Hadrian lifted his face, "It looks beautiful. I believe that god gave his very best."
"God?- Ah, Gade." Moulin's eyes widened. "So my arm..."
"Is his work. When you left the spirit's realm, his mana weaved you a new limb. You've fully recovered your arm. However, it would take long for the marks to fade and return your skin color."
Moulin furrowed his brows, "How long?..."
"The oracle is uncertain, but it could take a few years..." Hadrian shook his head. He gazes fondly at Moulin's hand, "Nevertheless, you are whole. With or without the arm."
Moulin smiled, "I still prefer to have both arms, though."
"The better for you to hold me tightly." His voice was teasing, and his expression was passionate. Anyone would think so.
However, Moulin knew the darker thoughts swirling within Hadrian's mind. Vengeance will never be far from Hadrian. He'll wield it like a sword and ravage the land. Whatever Hadrian wished to do, Moulin hoped it wouldn't consume his mind.
"Are you alright? Are you hurting?" Moulin asked, raising a hand to caress the man's jaw.
Hadrian leaned into his touch, "I am fine... unlike a certain person, I have not lost an arm or a leg."
Moulin rolled his eyes and smiled. He kneeled beside Hadrian's thighs, lifting himself, leaning to kiss his beloved. Hadrian closed his eyes. Fingers slipping into the youth's hair.
Moulin's mouth parted to meet the man's tongue. It was a slow dance, curling passionately. A soft moan slipped out Moulin's throat, which only incited the lord even more.
When they parted, Moulin leaned his forehead against Hadrian. The lord gazed at those rosy lips, wanting more of its touch.
"When will we depart?..." Moulin whispered, still feeling the heat between them.
Hadrian gently stroked Moulin's waist. "In a week. Our people from Helios will open the portal. The elves will do what they can to help us. Hopefully, you'll be fully recovered in a few days."
Moulin raised a brow and suddenly removed himself from the man before him. He stood before the couch with bright eyes. The fiery energy in his eyes is more vibrant than ever.
"I'm not some bedridden person. I can stand and walk with ease."
Hadrian looked at him and sighed. As much as he finds Moulin's boldness and arrogance attractive, he could not ignore the young man's health. "At least rest and relax for a few days. Take care of yourself a bit more, or your brother wouldn't stop pestering both of us."
Moulin paused at his words and sighed. "Alright. If my lord wills it."
Hadrian cocked an eyebrow. Before he could say another word, Moulin turned around and walked towards the bath.
"I need another 'relaxing' bath then." Moulin stripped, leaving a trail of clothes behind him. His bare skin gleamed under the light like a water nymph about to take a swim in clear water. The silky ends of his silver hair teased the curved of his buttocks. His hair is like a curtain that conceals all the world's tempting desires.
Hadrian's eyes traced every part of Moulin's figure like a starving wolf. In the end, he could not bear to sit and watch. Why ever would he do that? He rose from his seat and followed after Moulin's trail, picking up the discarded cloth one by one like following a tempestuous path that could lead him ensnared by a silver trap, swallowing his body and soul.
And he would love every second of it.
..........
Afternoon came in a flash. Moulin languidly listened to his brother's rambling of their preparations for departure. Of course, many were unwilling to see them go back to the dark, dangerous contaminated world filled with malibreeds. Who knows how long they wouldn't be able to see each other again. However, it wouldn't be impossible for both races not to visit each other occasionally. Currently, Adeina, the youthful fae, was absorbed in inventing a possible solution for both maeruthans and the elves.
"Don't worry about the departure." Emlen reminded. His eyes are dead serious, facing Moulin, who nodded instantly. He finished the tea in his cup and stood up. Moulin's eyes followed his every move.
"You only have to focus on resting and taking care of yourself, understood?" Emlen reminded. "Do something enjoyable to ease your nerves."
Once again, Moulin nodded obediently. He shouldn't worry his brother anymore. "Yes, brother."
Emlen sighed and stroked Moulin's head. "I'll be back after I finish. Don't wait and eat dinner if I'm late."
"Yes, brother. Please, take care."
Satisfied, Emlen left the room in good spirits. Ah, Moulin is so obedient today. Maybe, he finally realizes that he must listen to his big brother well to avoid trouble. Moulin was already a grown man, but Emlen could not help but see his little brother's adorable teenager face in his mind.
The guards and servants gave him strange looks as he walked through the hallways with a pleasant aura.
Moulin sighed when the doors closed shut. He leaned back on the couch, internally scolding Emlen for taking all his time, leaving no second for him and Hadrian anymore. Agh, if it weren't for his protective big brother, he would have spent a lovely afternoon with his man.
Unfortunately, Hadrian also had his responsibilities. Thus, he was away most of the time...
Moulin released a long depressed sigh...
Knock!
Knock!
"My lord, His excellence the Great Oracle, Na'El, and Esteemed Purifier Acerfi has come." The guards announced.
Moulin straightened instantly and blinked.
Na'el? Arcefi?
"Come in..."
The doors opened smoothly, and two figures entered the room. Na'El smiled warmly as he approached Moulin. Behind him, Arcefi walked elegantly, wearing a light blue robe that matches his eyes beautifully.
"Are you well?" Na'El asked as he sat down beside Moulin, taking his pulse and feeling the mana coursing within his soul.
Moulin nodded, "I feel much better."
"Your arm?"
"No pain. Feels... like nothing happened to it at all." Moulin replied. Although the color is different...
Arcefi furrowed his brows and gazed at Moulin's arm. "It'll turn back to normal. Don't worry. You still look... fascinating."
"Thank you..." Moulin chuckled. His silver eyes shined brightly.
Na'el took his time examining Moulin, searching for any mishaps in his internal soul and core. Arcefi was there to aid the oracle in unraveling complex spells to inspect Moulin's body.
"His Holiness of Seasons has blessed you indeed. His mana lingers within you, within your mana. However, it seems both energies are yours now. We aren't certain at the moment, but perhaps, you'll be experiencing some strange things in the future."
"Like what?" Moulin tilted his head in curiosity. Arcefi mirrored his look as he waited for Na'El's response.
"Perhaps... new abilities?" Na'El smiled.
Moulin furrowed his brows, "...?"
"So it's true..." Arcefi scratches his chin thoughtfully. "Divine beings truly can grant such things... But would there be consequences? Would it affect his body?"
"It is difficult to conclude right now," Na'El replied and turned to face Moulin's skeptical look. The oracle shakes his head and adds, "However, we will know more in the future. Perhaps, some things can trigger it, or it could be activated, controlled by your will or emotions. Nonetheless, it is a gift bestowed to you..."
A gift...
Galadin's gift... Of course. How could I forget? Moulin smiled faintly.
"There is another thing you must know." Na'El expression abruptly turned severe. "The barrier closely protecting your core has diminished. It was one of the indestructible barriers within your body. Now that it has disappeared, you are vulnerable to mana contamination."
Moulin flinched. He lowered his head and nodded. He had used the barrier's mana to create a frozen blade which... cut off his arm. Consequences do come. Sigh.
"Regenerating it isn't impossible, however," Na'El said, softening his voice to cheer up the dropping maeruthan in front of him.
Moulin raised his gaze. "It isn't?"
"If you take better care of yourself. It will eventually begin regenerating."
"Ah, of course..."
...
Why does it feel like everyone thinks I don't care much about myself?
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