The morning rays of dazzling light bathed the thousands of silvery-white strands falling in waves and swirls. A sigh escaped the lush lips of the youth sitting at the far side of the teahouse where the sun had knocked on the crystal panes of the tall windows.
His delicate fingers lifted a teacup to his mouth and he took a short sip. The sweet scent of tea entered his nose. His figure was isolated from the rest of the people in the teahouse. Almost all the tables around him were empty.
A small ball of fur was sleeping on his lap, quietly snoring. Snow's snout twitched as curled himself in his master's lap. His stomach was full of the biscuits and cakes he had enthusiastically eaten earlier. His sudden action made the youth glance at him with a softened gaze.
Countless eyes had swept over him but not one had the courage to walk over to him. Afraid of destroying the ethereal aura exuded by the youth and the heavenly atmosphere around his lone form. They watched him from afar silently admiring the painting-like scene. The white band on his wrist was undoubtedly exposed to those eyes but no one had shifted their attention to it.
Moulin was unaware of the gazes belonging to the people around him. In his mind, he thought they were mocking him for his delicateness and weakness indicated by the band on his wrist. He frowned, silver eyes narrowing and unfocused. He disdained the idea of being subjected to this discriminating treatment. But partially, he didn't care about what people would think about him.
"Finally, here..."
The seat opposite him was drawn back and Emlen seated himself uncomfortably on the chair. A corner of Moulin's lips turned up. He had stopped by a pastry shop on his way back to the teahouse. His hands were holding a delicately weaved basket filled with a variety of cakes. A particular brat's snout twitched as it caught the sweet scent.
"Are you enjoying yourself?"
Moulin nodded in response, "How did it go?"
"By tomorrow, I will be returning to the guild so I believe we have to part tonight." He sighed, dispassionately. His grey eyes filled with worry and concern. "Tomorrow at high noon, you will have to go to the Trial domain alone. There, a short introduction will be announced. Do not let your guard down. There may be a few candidates intent to drag down weaker candidates. With your band, you may become a target. Do you know the realms you will be entering in the trial gates?" Emlen asked.
Moulin nodded, determination clouded his silver eyes. "The Illusionists Cave, the Mirror realm and the Blue, Fire Arena."
Last night, A message was sent to each contestant from the Elder council of guilds from each of their bands. They stated the realms to be entered and the instructions to use their bands for accessibility. Moulin was a bit nervous. The contents of each realm were kept silent and he understood that the Elder guild specifically intended it to keep it that way.
He didn't know what to expect in the Trials but he was certainly going to succeed in all of the three realms. Difficult or not, he will make his family name glorified and known.
"Are you going to be alright?" Emlen asked his little brother, worriedly. "The trial is no longer as easy as it was years ago. This year, the guild lords preferred to gain more promising individuals. I'm afraid it is going to be harder for you. I also have no knowledge about the Trial so I can not aid you." His voice grew sullen as gaze lowered.
Before Emlen would spout out endless excuses of pulling him out of the trials Moulin hastily interrupted him. "Second brother, I will be fine. Trust me. I am already aware of what risks I am taking and also the possibility of death. However, I know I can do it. If it comforts your unease then I will promise that not a scratch will land on me."
Emlen's gaze warmed, he smiled at his brother's thoughtfulness. "Then promise me that. I know I'm always concerned about your wellbeing but I trust that you can succeed on your own. You are powerful, Moulin. I am certain of that, even if everyone doubts your strength."
"Thank you" Moulin smiled. His eyes hazed with warmth and merriment.
Emlen reddened and he looked away clearing his throat. His movements stopped when he spotted a certain snout sniffing up from Moulin's side of the table.
A furry head popped out from the edge of Moulin's table. Snow was lazily following the scent of cakes and cookies and when he spotted his prey, his eyes brightened with glee. It was as if all the food in his full stomach was digested in an instant.
"Ao!"
He hopped on the table, softly. Avoiding any noise of clutter for it could disrupt his sweet master's mood. Emlen caught his sly intentions but responded too late. Before he could even take away the basket on the table that he bought all for his brother, a particular fox jumped into the bed of wrapped cakes and cookies. Ignoring Emlen's silent curses Snow began to gobble up the cakes, flashing a pitiful look to his master. His beady eyes watery, blaming Emlen for his woes.
Moulin sighed, shaking his head. Why was he so submissive to those eyes? Even a fox excelled more in acting than him.
Helplessly, he appeased Emlen's annoyance letting Snow eat his fill. He laughed at Snow and Emlen's banter which seemed quite childish.
Their side of the teahouse was envied for their warm and harmonious aura but the three was completely oblivious, merry in their own world.
Hidden in the shadows, a pair of eyes stared intently on Moulin's slender frame. Mentally tracing every curve. Sizing him up from head to toe in an unusually slow manner. There was a devilish smile plastered on his face, almost disgusting and poisoned with a suspicious thirst.
On the table, Snow's movements stopped. Lifting his head, his eyes darted around attentively. However, as if the suspiciousness was all an illusion it disappeared almost instantly as Snow lifted his gaze.
..........
As the first light of day broke through the sky, waking the sleeping City of Thaeria with warmed light and a soothing breeze. The night watch retired and a new morn welcomed the waking people of the city.
However, not all had been sleeping. As early as the break of day, A crowd of youthful men and women had gathered before a large circular arc. Their bands varying different shades of light gold. Made with the thickest white stone carved columns, the gigantic structure stood with superiority, overwhelming the people under it. It was said that the entrance through the mountains of the Imperial Academy does not exist unless one would fly over a hundred thousand feet over the mountain range. The thought was almost preposterous. However, the information was true.
Many had excitement burning in their hearts, others had already pictured themselves succeeding effortlessly. Their eyes gleaming with a proud arrogance. Only a handful had a pure determination not at all wavering from their expression as they started at the Arch gateway.
Only a lone soul was indifferent, standing isolated from the hundreds of young maeruthans stepping closer towards the gate as though time was playing with them in annoyance. His silver eyes gazed upon the gateway massively. Wearing a black uniform which he had found on his bed when he had taken a nap. At first he was uncomfortable with the thought that someone from the academy had sneaked into his room to drop the uniform on his bed. However, Emlen had informed him that it was sent from the academy through his band. Emlen had left hurriedly afterwards.
The uniform unusually made his figure slimmer making Moulin's impression of the academy drop a hundred feet. His hair was tied up in a high ponytail, leaving a few strands of hair curl down on his clean forehead. He discarded the black gloves paired with the set of clothes and left his hands and wrists exposed to the chilly air of the early sky. Fingertips and pale knuckles looked pink and delicate certainly alike to a lady's hands.
The youth's lonesome figure was like a weak calf, precisely an easy target for the dark hearts. Most had already taken notice of the white band around his wrists, their lips smirking mockingly. An unfortunate lamb got mixed up with a pack of wolves, the thought was delightfully intriguing. Snickering, others have already taken a step towards Moulin.
"Hey, you".
"..."
Moulin had his arms folded, coldly glancing at the man wearing a dirty smile on his face. His sword-like stare pierced at the man, like a blade threatening to stab on his neck.
The man's steps hesitated momentarily. His courage wavering as his soul shook. He covered his hesitation and glared at the youth before him, a lot of eyes was already watching him, "Looking at me won't save you from what will happen to you next, little one."
Moulin ignored his words and glanced at the man's band, it was pale gold. Too pale to be precise. Disdain "flashed in his silver eyes and he turned his gaze away.
On the other hand, the man took his actions as an act of embarrassment and shame. His confidence grew wildly and he lifted his chin, arrogance oozing from his eyes.
"You must be very anxious. Come, this big brother will help you." His rotten gaze shamelessly razed over Moulin's form. He glanced back at his laughing friends, enjoying his performance.
Moulin snickered in his heart. The arrogant asshole wouldn't leave him alone. Should he just freeze him to death?his brows lifted thoughtfully. That isn't a bad idea... nonetheless, this is a competition and we will fight for the winning spot.
He turned his attention back to the nearing man. His aura was released, a deadly intent aiming to finish off the man in front of him. It was a sickening, revolting feeling that sticks to the man's bones. The man's eyes widened as he lost himself to the graves of those silver eyes and the destructive aura radiating from the boy. He stepped back subconsciously, fearing for his life. Beads of sweat formed from his forehead, his eyes grew unfocused as he stared back at the youth.
The surrounding people paused their mocking whispers, confusion etched on their faces.
Turn away, the man thought in his mind. As if there was a monster lurking behind him, threatening to claw out his heart if he wouldn't retract his gaze away from the youth. But he couldn't. He was shackled in his place, held captive by the silvery gaze. He feared even more. Unmoving, bounded, unable to be free... His shoulders tremble.
How was a low-rank Maeruthan able to release this kind of aura? It was impossible!! Yes, it's definitely a ruse to move him. He covered the fear in his face and his eyes burned with fury and irritation. How dare this stupid b*tch think he's more superior than me?
Abruptly, he moved to grab Moulin's shoulders, intent to punish the weakling to remind him where his place should belong.
"I'd keep that hand if I were you..."
Out of the blue, A long sword shining under the light of the rising sun pointed at the man's neck. Piercing a bit of his skin. A bead of blood dripped down his neck.
The man's eyes widened, for a split second, he felt his soul leave his body as the sword inched deeper into his neck. A pair of blue eyes stared at him mysteriously.
Moulin's eyes widened in surprise. The long hair of platinum blonde, dancing with the breeze, welcomed him, "Ghana..."
With a smile, Ghana winked at him.
"Y-you... What do you think you're doing?!" The man scrambled back, holding his neck with a ghastly face.
The woman raised an eyebrow before summoning back her sacred weapon. "Scram"
A woman dares to fucking wound me?!
The rising arrogance in his eyes vanished when his eyes landed on the golden band of deep gold. The words in his mouth hesitated to leak out. He could only clench his fists as he glared at Moulin one last time, before scurrying away.
Watching the man retreat to his friends, Moulin frowned. He was already itching to finish off the man and feast on his blood.
"The trials hadn't even started yet and you already brought in trouble. How does this young master do it?" Ghana chuckled, grasping her friend's shoulder.
"I would have scared him off myself"
"Yes, you would have. Unfortunately, I came in time to save a beauty." She grinned at him.
Moulin rolled his eyes and shakes his head with a smile. "It is nice finally see a familiar face here"
Ghana smiled in response. The youth looked exactly like the type of person who would rather depend on himself than mingle with a group of people. Fortunately, she came in time to ease his uneasiness. She glared at the people around them who quickly turned their gaze away.
Unruly people... Selfish beings who only watched the scene unfold earlier like an audience witnessing an intriguing show. How revolting...