A Gorgeous White

Chapter 410: || || In A Chase

Moulin appreciates the warm steam from the teacup held within his fingers. A soft smile adorned his face. It is sweeter and brighter than precious daylight. Leaning on the table in front of him was Jagra who was admiring the look on his friend's beauteous face. Even as the aphrodite aged, he looked even more beautiful. He had quite a feminine look before, Jagra remembered. However, now he had a tinge of handsomeness, possessing a gentle and ferocious tone. One would find it difficult to look away from him.

"Good tea," Moulin muttered raising his teacup to Jagra who smiled proudly. Then he sighed comfortably as he leaned his back on the window frame. The warm light of the room gently caressed his whole body. He looked exquisite, as though he came out of an oil painting.

As a relaxed silence rolled between them, Jagra somehow felt an unusual sensation creeping up his spine. His forehead creased. He ignored the odd feeling and spoke. "How did the research go? What did they find?"

Moulin replied, "It went well. The White Forest held more mana than we... "

Moulin abruptly stopped in the m

middle of the sentence. His eyes bore on Jagra who stared at him with a concerned expression. Moulin slowly put the teacup back on the table. The atmosphere grew tense.

"Did you feel that?"

Jagra swallowed, "Y-Yes..."

A sudden murderous intent wafted. They could sense it.

The silver-eyed man abruptly shifted his gaze to the window. There, hidden within the thick branches of the trees, a black silhouette stood on the ledge of the neighboring building. When his location was found, the man instantly escaped their eyes in a blink of an eye.

"Stay here." Moulin let out before he hastily jumped down the window in a quick chase.

"Moulin?!" Jagra shouted, leaning out of the window with wide eyes.

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Moulin whizzed past the buzzing crowd. He closed on the man. However, the stranger was quite agile and fast. The man couldn't care about the people in his way, ruthlessly bumping through the crowd. He toppled a basket of fresh fruits and even destroyed two stalls causing a commotion to occur. This made Moulin angrier but he couldn't dare to use his ability within such a crowded area. He just needs to outrun him.

As Moulin ran he glanced at the stacked boxes ahead beside the street and used them to jump on the roofs of the stalls on the streets. The wooden boards creaked underneath his heavy steps as he quickened his pace. The wind wooshed past his body, noisy against his ears. The fleeing man left gasps and shouts in his escape and the aphrodite followed the noise. He set his silver eyes on the man running on the ground.

Once he got close enough, Moulin jumped off the roof! His hands are like iron clamps as they gripped the piece of clothing concealing the intruder's face. His weight slammed against him and sent both of them smashing against the bricked earth in an explosion of pain. They rolled away and the startled people distanced themselves, murmuring in shock and fear.

Moulin was quick to rise up. He paused briefly, memorizing the man's features. Long black hair like midnight silk and blood-red eyes, glowing like rubies. Curved pointy ears revealed themselves from the curtain of black strands at the side of his head. He looked large, perhaps a bit thinner from the mass of black clothing on his body A dark scarf covered his face; his nose, his mouth, down to his neck. He met Moulin's gaze and disgust flashed in the man's eyes briefly before he turned and ran.

This bastard...

Furious, Moulin chased after him. They ran towards an unfinished arched walkway in the street. Moulin was about to catch up to him when then the unknown stranger suddenly slammed his shoulder against the wooden supports of the structure. The wood broke and the whole building started collapsing as Moulin closed into it.

"Aaaah!"

A high-pitched voice shouted in fear. Raising his eyes, Moulin saw a small boy clutching the wall in the upper unfinished floor of the archway. With a pounding heartbeat, Moulin glanced between the black-clad man who was about to slip away from his vision and the terrified boy shedding tears while the floor beneath him began to give away.

Cursing in his breath, Moulin slowed his steps while dodging the fallen debris. When the boy fell, Moulin was instantly beneath him with open arms. He caught the thin body and hurriedly escaped the stones that threatened to crush them. The aphrodite landed on his behind, embracing the trembling child tightly clutching his chest. Fearful screams and shouts filled his surroundings. The last of the structure fell in an explosion of dust, splinters, and rocks. Moulin turned his head away, shielding the boy until the smoke slowly faded.

Moulin sighed and raised his head looking at the narrow clearing where he saw the man disappear in the sea of people. He frowned in disappointment then felt the shivering child holding him tighter.

Moulin furrowed his brows. "Are you alright?"

The child nodded meekly and raised his gaze. Moulin stopped. One blue eye and one white eye. The child was half blind and his hopeful eyes brightened at the sight of his savior's face. He was frighteningly thin with grime and dirt staining his face and limbs. His brown hair is messy and uncut and bandages covered most of his arms. Moulin was afraid he'd hurt the boy if he held him tightly.

But most of all...

"Moulin!"

Jagra panted when he finally caught up with his friend. The maeruthan's face was layered in sweat. He heaved in exhaustion, clutching his knees to catch his breath. When he recovered he took a deep breath. "Did you lose him?"

Moulin sighed as he stood up, "Yes..."

"Did you know what he looked like?"

Moulin briefly explained the man's physical features.

"Could be an elf..." Jagra muttered. "I'll report this to Ghana and request for sentinels to patrol the district."

Moulin nodded. His ears caught a noise from the group of people behind him. A wrinkly fat woman pushed past people, trying to make her way to Moulin. Her eyes warily eyed the silver-eyed maeruthan holding the filthy boy tightly in his arms. She smiled, reaching out her hand.

"Mister, please give me back my son."

Moulin's expression didn't ease at the sight of her face but he moved to let go of the boy. In an instant, the boy whined pitifully, refusing to let go of Moulin. He trembled violently, fear exuding from his thin vulnerable figure. One would pity him at first sight. Under Moulin's scrutinizing gaze, the bandages of the boy's right arm loosened slightly. Moulin's sharp eyes narrowed and he lifted his suspicious gaze to the fat woman. She could be his mother and Moulin didn't have the right to be involved with them.

Moulin slowly raised his chin, releasing an oppressive aura to immediately intimidate the woman. The people murmured in confusion and curiosity.

.............

With rapid breaths, the man slowed his steps. He found himself in a dark alley surrounded by trash but he couldn't care less about the filthiness around him. His back slid down the wall and he sat on the ground, trying to catch his breath, pulling a finger to loosen the scarf wrapped around his shoulders and neck. The alleyway was covered with many empty crates, concealing him from the passerby.

When he was calmed, the man closed his eyes, feeling his recovering heartbeat. He was so close. If he was a step too late, he would be swallowed by that light-brought person's mana. The very thought struck fear in his heart. He had escaped him for now. Perhaps, he wouldn't be lucky in their next encounter.

It was no time to rest. What must be done, should be done. The persistent urge clawed at his mind once more. Transforming the drought soul into a rich blood-filled entity

...

"You actually brought him back with you," Jagra muttered. His eyes wandered to the bandaged-up kid sleeping silently on the bed. He looked reddish, heaving steadily as the fever settled out.

Staring fixedly at the slumbering boy, Moulin was leaning on the doorway with unknown thoughts.

"That woman probably isn't his mother. She instantly fled when you decided to take him for treatment," said Jagra. "Ghana is currently looking into it. Her recent assignment involves the dark side of this city. This place might look like paradise. However, there will always be something sinister lurking in the corner."

Moulin nods slowly, swallowing the words in his mind. His gaze never left the child.

"Are aphrodites usually attached to one another?"

Jagra's question abruptly woke his silent friend. His silver eyes widened.

"No... I don't think so." Moulin then stopped, realizing Jagra's intent. The youth's voice softened when he unhurriedly continued, "So you know..."

"Yes." Jagra replied, "It isn't difficult for us to recognize the other. The child's a maeruthan aphrodite. His mana is weak and severely maimed. I wouldn't have recognized him if it weren't for the remnants of the mana he released when he refused to let go of you."

"I see..."

"He'll be alright. Although his wounds are quite severe for a little eight-year-old boy, he has persisted for so long. It means he's strong. The healer will take care of him."

Moulin released a breath. The ache in his chest slightly lifted. Helios was a growing city. Although the crimes were quite nonexistent. It doesn't destroy the fact that darkness still existed within.

Moulin stayed by the boy's side for a couple of hours before visiting his parent's room. As usual, he talked about what he had done for the day, not even missing even the tiniest detail. He observed their serene slumbering faces that made him believe that they were just about to wake up. In the end, his imagination kept him hopeful and strong. Even as he left the room.

"Ah, young master. Fancy seeing you here."

A sudden person abruptly interrupted his quiet time in his father's treasured garden. Moulin glanced at the man wearing a broad grin before shifting his gaze to the three mingling beasts in the distance. Kier and Snow accompanied their new friend, Dira, the beautiful red tiger.

Recalling what Erik had said during their last encounter, Dira does what she wants even when his masters were around and it seems she escaped her caretaker's sight and followed Snow's scent to the gardens. Kier wasn't as wary as Snow. He acted like the mature one. Thus, Moulin gave the beast his trust to watch over the two troublemakers. As the breeze brushed past, a silver-haired maeruthan observed the three creatures near the lake.

The man with gorgeous dark skin, who bore the golden symbols of his ancestors and his own, sighed helplessly. Sarion raised his hand, indicating for his attendants to stop following him, and slowly approached the young man sitting on the old bench.

Moulin gave him a sharp look from the corner of his eye. Sarion understood and stopped, keeping his distance. The successor softened his expression.

"I apologize for my actions before..."

Moulin furrowed his brows. "...?"