a gorgeous white by Heather_anare

281: Im back

The smell of flowers is ripe, like walking

through vast fields of spring. The fresh air, cool and soothing, caressing Moulin's face. Yet it is also warm and inviting, like returning home from a bloody war. In every step the young man took, he felt like he would face an untouchable and indestructible creature. Only, it was his father, and his body was as fragile as a child. His father's body is weak and vulnerable to sickness. Moulin wondered how he was afraid, but there was nothing to be afraid of. His father wouldn't hurt him.

The sword on his belt clanked as he walk. When Moulin lifted his eyes off his feet, he saw a frail-looking figure sitting straight and staring at the windows. He was shrouded with an air of solemnity. It felt as if Moulin was back eight years ago. Where he saw his father, calmly staring out in the open at his desk. Looking regal and positively charming yet cold like an invincible wall protecting his land and family.

Moulin pressed his lips together, and his steps slowed. The more he looked at the man, the more his anxiety rose inside him.

Suddenly, Lord Dontae turned his head. His now piercing gray eyes shifted to Moulin's approaching figure.

He stopped, eyes widening, brows raised, and an overwhelming emotion flooded his heart.

When their eyes met, Moulin stopped. His heart drummed endlessly, forcibly pounding against the walls of his chest. His feet refused to take another step. Suddenly, the silence between them felt loud. Although Moulin didn't like it, he didn't know what to do.

His father's pale face and gray hair etched itself in Moulin's mind. Moulin felt his plans sweat as he clenched them tightly.

"Moulin?..."

The first sound of his father's voice instantly disintegrated all of his suppressed emotions. Silver eyes were pricked by tears. His fingers trembled, and a hoarse, almost cracked sound released itself from his mouth. "Yes."

'It's me.'

Moulin felt his shoulders shake. Slowly, he started walking.

'I'm back...'

Restraining a whimper, he unblinkingly approached the bed. His quivering pupils never left his father's gaze.

"Father..."

Lord Dontae reached out a trembling hand. And Moulin was quick to touch him. He felt his father's hands holding him in a tight and warm hold. The gentle shake of it made Moulin want to break down.

"A-ah..." Brokenly, his father holds Moulin with two hands. He rested his head on his child's hand to feel his skin and the faint beat of his pulse. Something inside him rips out, and tears fell from his eyes.

His child is alive.

Moulin is alive. He is here in front of him, alive and well.

Seeing his weeping father, Moulin could no longer bear it. He spread his arms and embraced his father tightly. Warm tears fell from his lovely eyes, streaming down his cheek to his chin. He was thankful, joy and sadness bursting out of his heart. Finally, his father had recognized him. He is back.

........

The bustle in the courtyard was loud. The loud drag of hooves scraped the stone endlessly as a herd of horses was brought in the middle of the busy area.

Sharpening the edges of her spear, Ghana, the warrior, lifted her eyes and greeted the Veresyah, presenting her mount. Her blue eyes carefully examined the horse-like creature brought before her. The horse was rather larger than normal. The shine of its black coat was captivating as well as the glow of its burning orange eyes. Like a flame was scorching within its body. Its hooves were wide and thick up to the rest of its legs. Overall, Ghana was more than impressed.