Dark red blood appeared to befoul the flawless white snow as it spread outwards beneath the corpse of a man. A large hole gaped at the snowfall. Tiny snowflakes entered the cavity melting from the blood and the mangled insides of the head.
The wounded man clutched his shoulder instantly after escaping death. His eyes fell upon a solid blood-stained stake-like ice in front of him. He knew then that his savior might be an Ice wielder. He was still shuddering from his fright of the remaining seconds of losing his life.
"Who's there?!" One of the black men yelled. Another bothersome pest was trying to hinder their plans. He snuck needles between his fingers. His subordinates surrounded their target, the golden-eyed man, silently.
The snow fell silently and gently but it felt like shadowing a monstrous secret. Waiting to be unveiled.
The golden-eyed man surveyed the area. He sensed a single life form behind the trees but the snow was somehow obstructing his senses. He glanced at his friend, barely holding on. He had lost too much blood. But he dared not to act rashly, for this was unknown territory, something was watching them. He knew some creatures tend to be very territorial.
A piercing scream came from behind him.
A man with freshly severed legs crawled on the snow, his bones visibly protruding. He wailed noisily at the harrowing pain as crimson liquid trailed behind him. Another cry of pain sounded briefly as three bodies lay on the ground, blades of ice sticking out from their chest, their breaths fading. The concentrated stench of blood circulated the air.
An Ice wielder! The leader of the assassins raised his dagger as he paid no attention to his dying men. A glowing fireball lit from his hand as he steadied himself for an attack. His ability was far more superior than a measly ice ability.
His fast reflexes made him dodge a bolt of ice coming his way and strike the one behind him instead. He followed where the bolts came from and launched the ball of fire at a big tree at his right. The tree's trunk exploded, and tiny splinters flew sharply around the area of impact.
The tall tree fell forward revealing... no one. The disappointed fire assassin gnashed his teeth as he looked around, completely ignoring his actual target.
Meanwhile, the ruthless golden eyes shifted behind him as his comrade's savior reveals himself from hiding. His eyes locked on a short white figure meters away from them. Silky white robes draped down just above his bare feet. A white-furred hood covered half of the person's pale face exposing his luscious red lips. A faint white glow surrounded his frost-covered fingers. Exhaling a warm visible breath from his lips, he lifted a slender arm. He looked like a majestic illusion that would disappear in a blink of an eye.
Moulin's thoughts:
WhatamIdoing?whatamidoing?whatamidoing?whatamidoing?whatamidoing?whyamidoingthis?Ijustwantedapeek.
Snow was nowhere to be found. The pipsqueak was burying itself into the snow out of fright.
The snow beneath the rest of the assassins hardened. Their feet are stuck and trapped. They were caught off guard and began to panic. The mixture of the sound of cursing and the cries of pain were irritating. Ice began to climb their way up their bodies rapidly. The blood freezing and the flesh hardening. Just like how painful Moulin experienced it the first time. The scene was similar to bugs caught in a spider's web. One particular bug, however, was especially irksome.
The leader of the assassins managed to forcefully release himself from the trap resulting in a pair of bloodied-skinned legs. Red beads of blood leaked from the pores of the pale flesh. His teeth bared at Moulin. A maddening desire to burn this prick alive overtook his reasoning. Steam expelled from his skin as his temperature rose to an unbelievable degree. A fire suddenly engulfed him, melting away the snow around him. Flaming orbs orbited around his body while he roared at Moulin.
Moulin's expression was unreadable but he was truly threatened by the current situation. How can he back down when things had already come to this? Of course, he had to fight back.
H-He has to fight back…
Moulin gazed at the enraged man in front of him. He readied himself for his very first combat experience with another ability user.
Out of nowhere, a crackling line of golden lightning directly struck the flaming man with a loud bang!
What once was a living man, a charred corpse now stood in front of the youth. The body fell with a loud thud, crumbling into dust.
Moulin gawked speechless at the unexpected turn of the fight. He turned his eyes at the golden-haired man who retracted his outstretched hand. Moulin blinked stupidly. If he was this f*cking strong why didn't he helped in the first place?!
Frowning, Moulin walked towards the man who was already kneeling beside his already unconscious friend and slowly treating him. He was bleeding quite a lot at this rate he might die of blood loss.
The golden-eyed man faced Moulin, he bowed his head slightly. "We apologize for invading your territory, Miss. My companion and I were being pursued and were unfamiliar with the land".
Moulin stared at him under his bangs. With a close look, this man was sinfully attractive. His narrow eyes were fierce. He had a straight nose, glorious sexy lips, and stunning golden hair. Like golden threads made from the fires of the sun. His tight muscles and well-proportioned muscular body was fit for a soldier. He had a dignified and imposing aura with a hidden ruthlessness. Moulin bet that a lot of women would've begged to bear his offspring. Too bad he isn't my type. This guy is way too fancy.
Also...
"I'm a man," Moulin said with a blank stare.
The walking sex magnet in front of him froze.
Moulin rolled his eyes as he pulled back the hood. His silver hair draped down his shoulders and he raised an eyebrow at the man. I am not a girl! I am a man!... Technically half of each but I still am a man!
Moulin looked down at his wounded unconscious friend. Unaware of the deep gaze the other man's cavernous eyes were giving him.
A gaping wound bared itself in front of Moulin. He really didn't mean to involve himself with these people. But the thought of the young lad submissively awaiting his death by the edge of the blade, he could not stop himself.
However, when he... murdered those men. He felt a loathsome sense of satisfaction. As if he was just cutting down animals. He hated it but he felt the need to finish them.
"Hadrian..."
Moulin snapped out of his thoughts when a deep magnetic voice spoke. His eyes shifted to the man kneeling before him. "?..."
"My name..." Golden eyes narrowed at him. "Tell me yours..."
Moulin was silent for a few seconds. What a straightforward man this is.
"Mou-..el... My name is Moel". He almost blurted out his real name to a stranger. He's not that stupid to reveal himself to someone unfamiliar with his circumstances. Also, his current reputation is as grimy as a chimney.
Hadrian was it? Well, whether it's real or not Moulin doesn't care a bit.
"Night is approaching..." Moulin reminded the man before him. "If you seek shelter, come with me. However, you must leave when the sun rises". He will give them a bit of his kindness before kicking them out. The wounded man would not survive out in the cold.
Hadrian nodded and began to carry his friend. Moulin noticed there was something suspicious about this man. His bright golden eyes clearly indicate he was of pure Maeruthan blood. The aura and his ruthless martial arts signified that he might be part of a high-born family. Without a doubt, this man was someone Moulin would not dare to offend. Nevertheless, The white-haired youth was not afraid. This was his turf after all.
A Forgotten Snow: ...
Together, they left the bloodied area and crossed the ice bridge to the other side of the river. Not a word was spoken while traveling towards the frozen mountain cave in front of a large frozen lake. Moulin led the way through the tunnel and arrived at another roomy place just beside where he usually sleeps. They laid down the injured man on Moulin's extra piece of fur cloak. Hadrian began to treat his companion while Moulin watched by his side.
The serious golden-haired man took out a blue vial, unrecognizable to Moulin. It appears to be some kind of healing medicine. Hadrian lifted the tip of the opening to his friend's mouth until every last drop was consumed. Seconds later, the previously deathly complexion of the injured man became a bit more lively. His wounds gradually mend itself. This heaven-shocking fluid completely stunned Moulin to his core. Amazing...
"Who is he?" Moulin kneeled beside Hadrian as he took off his fur coat.
"My subordinate. We got attacked as we made our way through the woods"
"So he's one of your guards..." Moulin pretty much knew he was hiding something.
"...Yes," The sun in the man's pupils had a deep shade of deep gold. The corner of his intriguing lips turned up. This young man was interestingly captivating. "How long have you been here, Moel?"
Moulin stiffened. He stood up from the man's side, narrowing his eyes at him. Hostility grew around the young man as his silver eyes stared into the man's golden ones. "How do you know that I haven't been dwelling in this place ever since I was born?"
"..." Hadrian didn't expect the sudden resentment of the young man. He admits that his question was a bit personal but he was sincere. The heedful beauty in front of him looked like a feline with sharps claws ready to pounce at the slightest provocation. How interesting...
"...Apologies. I was not minding my words" Regardless, Hadrian apologized.
Moulin only gave him a doubtful look before turning around and exiting the cave. He didn't really recognize me, did he? Was it too obvious that he had been living here temporarily? Perhaps, he was one of those people who ridiculed the original or one of those people in the scum Quade's engagement ceremony.
Whoever he was, he could not help but suspect the man. Those deep sun-colored eyes were clearly hiding something.
That shady handsome man cannot be trusted! However, He'll just have to survive the night until the sun rises...