a gorgeous white by Heather_anare

305: To gain a new ally (1)

Author's Note: I can't believe we're almost at the 300th chapter. *Wheezing*

Hurrah! It was a long wait but Enjoy the chapter!

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The breeze was soft. It was an unusual thing within the red palace enclosed with layers and layers of rocks. The only opening came from above. A giant hole where no one could bring the courage to climb and free themselves from the wretched city. One could only lift their head and gaze, imagining the life from before, when the land wasn't rotten and withered as its people. However, every single soul knows there is no chance to survive even when they escape. There was nowhere to go.

The wooden doors of a balcony opened slowly. A pair of calloused hands, marred with scars yet gentle, reached out with open palms. They are cupped together as a small tiny robin perched on the thick skin. A man with golden hair, deep with a hue of orange, and eyes like fresh grass calmly gazed at the little bird in his hands. His expression was unreadable. What was most peculiar about him was the pair of flinching ochre ears on top of his head, as well as the flicks of his long lion tail. With one look, anyone could recognize his race, the beastly blood running in his veins.

With a chirp, the tiny bird only tilted its head at his master.

''They have gathered?'' The man suddenly spoke. His eyes slightly deepened, and he shut his mouth. An anxious crease appeared between his thick brows.

Suddenly, he straightened before a knock sounded at the door. He clenched his hands, and the bird vanished into red smoke.

''Come inside.''

Slowly, the door opened with a soft creak, revealing a frail young man dressed in white satin. A black metal collar seemed to clamp around his neck painfully. His thin figure could determine the days of starvation. Countless nights of tears behind the redness of the man's eyes. Despite this, there was a distinct beauty in his frailness. That must be why the masters kept his pain every single day.

''I greet the second Lord of Leon, Master Artus.'' The servant choked out. His shoulders as endlessly trembling, and his head is lowered. His despairing eyes strained on the cool floor beneath his bare feet. ''Forgive me, Master. The Chief has called for your presence.''

'Brother, again...'

Artus shut his eyes, and a heavy atmosphere swallowed him. ''I understand...''

The beastman turned. His eyes are searching to meet the hesitant gaze of the poor youth. However, like the trained pet he was, the servant's eyes remained glued to the ground.

Before the youth could depart, Artus finally gathered himself and spoke. ''Mellano, Join me...''

Thin fingers paused before the door's handle. There was a slight tremble in them before he grasped it and slightly opened the door. Dark eyes moistened. A whisper as soft as the wind spoke, ''We are trapped, Master.''

The door closed shut, and the lonely man left behind only stood as he stared at the door where the young servant had left. Artus clenched his jaw, and he turned around with anger and sorrow clouding his heart. He opened his palm and stared at the expansive view of the city. Its putrid smell clutched unto him forever like an unforgettable memory. His eyes narrowed, and coldness filled his chest.

'Then I will do it myself...'

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

Breathe in...

Breathe out...

Breathe in-

Moulin swallowed with quivering pupils. His joints and arms were aching, and as much as he wanted to get up from the cold floor, he couldn't bear to do it. Finally, after a few seconds, Moulin spoke. ''Um...''