"Augh!"

Thud!

Moulin's back landed heavily on the dusty ground. Dust stuck to the sweat-soaked fabric of his training uniform. He could feel the little pricks of the stony dust beneath him as he let out an exhausted groan. He let his exposed arms go limp as he shut his eyes.

A pair of dusty boots stopped beside his legs and Moulin sighed as he opened his eyes.

"Come one, Moulin. One more time! Get up!" Glee filled Ghana's voice as she opened a palm at her younger friend.

"I think that's enough. I don't think I can survive a hundred losses more..." Moulin grabbed her hand let Ghana haul him up on his feet. He patted the dust off his arms as he stood.

"You lack physical strength, my friend. Tell me, how many years did you train before you joined the guild?" Ghana asked as she looked at the pairs of maeruthans sparring around them. She swore she felt countless eyes watching as she fought with Moulin.

Sweat fell from their foreheads as they sparred with their heads turned away from Ghana and Moulin.

"Years?" Moulin forced a smile.

Would a few months count?

"Well, I believe I've had enough years of training."

Ghana chuckled as she smacked Moulin's back. Moulin jerked from the strength of the impact.

"At least you still got meat beneath that maiden skin of yours." Ghana patted Moulin's arm. "Still, no matter how much you lose against me in physical combat, It is nothing compared to my losses against your ability."

Moulin shook his head as he there her compliment in the back of his mind. He knew it wasn't completely true. There was a smile on his face as both Ghana and he began to exit the training grounds. Numerous eyes glanced at their departing figures before they continued with their training.

Moulin separated with Ghana as they made their way towards the sentinel quarters for the reason that he had to send his elder brother a letter. Moulin entered his room and was greeted by the enthusiastic little fox jumping on his bed. Snow yipped happily as he jumped on the floor.

"Yes, Snow. I'll take you with me later..." Moulin reassured his little beast as he pulled a chair and sat at the wooden desk.

There were several sealed letters beside the sheets of paper separated from the clutter of the table. Moulin had written a letter to his parents, to Maxille, to Pola, and Alsander. He planned to write Emlen a letter but decided not to when Emlen sent him a letter instead. When Moulin had read the letter, he could feel the anger and rage in every word. Moulin felt like storm clouds had rained lighting over his head. Moulin could still feel the chill as he glanced at the letter beside his bedside.

Speaking of a letter...

Should he try to contact Lord Hadrian? Three days have passed since that night and Moulin spent the first two days regretting his decisions. Yesterday, he finally accepted the situation and plans to use Hadrian's power to reach the historian, Estuvian. However, he was too busy with the tasks thrown at him by his senior sentinels he didn't have time to think about it.

Moulin sighed as he collected the letters on the desk and grabbing the books Jagra had lent him for the past two days. He stood up from his seat and told Snow to behave. He believed that if he forgot to tell Snow to behave himself, the brat would go all wild for the whole day.

Boom!

A crack of thunder startled Moulin as he stood. His gazes shifted to the windows and he watched as raindrops fell on the glass crystal panes. The loud pitter-patter as raindrops dropped on the glass sounded louder than normal to Moulin. The skies had darkened greatly.

Moulin furrowed his brows.

Strange...

Before Ghana and he left the training ground, Moulin was certain he had noticed the skies were cloudless and bright. As it was every mid-morning in the manorial. He could still feel the heat from his uniform...

He shook his head wondering why he was thinking so much about the shifting weather.

"Come, Snow..." Moulin called Snow as he walked towards the door. The pair exited the room, leaving the roaring thunderclaps behind them.

"Good Morning, Freio" Moulin greeted as the elf rushed towards him. He had just finished delivering the letters to the messenger of the Leonile guild that would come once every week. Moulin thought that he would stop by the library to return the books in Jagra's stead.

Freio was as enthusiastic as a particular fox who wouldn't stop bothering him to be carried.

"Good morning, madame-"

"Freio..." Moulin glared.

The little elf giggled jokingly. She accepted Jagra's books while giggling, "Oops, my apologies. The young master hasn't acknowledged the title yet..."

Moulin narrowed his eyes as he watched the elf skip off to nowhere, disappearing behind the bookshelves of the library. He crouched to pick up the whimpering Snow from the ground. Snow snuggled in his master's embrace as he looked up as his beady silver eyes twinkled at the tremendous height of the bookshelves.

Moulin caressed Snow's fur as he walked towards the tall half-moon windows. There was a row of desks beside the windows and Moulin excitedly looked around. He mostly finds it pleasing if there was no one around the library while he reads. He smiled as hurriedly walked towards one of the chairs.

However, to his disappointment, he wasn't alone.

There were two men both napping on the tables as though they were in their quarters. The two people were so familiar that Moulin wanted to turn around and leave the library as fast as he can. With their blue hair and identical naughty faces, they looked serene with their closed eyes...

... If only they really were sleeping.

Moulin shook his head as he was determined to ignore them as he reads. Pulling a book from the shelf by his right, he walked to one of the chairs and sat quietly.

Snow was sitting on Moulin's lap, tilting his head up as he stared at his master's chin curiously.

Minutes passed and the thunder rumbled violently from beyond the wet windows. Raindrops rolled like tears down the glass panes of the windows. It was getting cold, Moulin could tell. Tessley didn't warn them that there would be a storm coming today. She was always too immerse in forecasting the weather for the guild.

All of a sudden, he heard fingers tapping on the other side of his table in a steady rhythm. It didn't lose to the loud patter of the rain from the windows. Moulin ignored it.

Snow growled softly as he peeked above the table to eye the person bothering his master.

Suddenly, a finger slightly pulled the top of Moulin's book down. Two pairs of eyes amusingly stared at Moulin from the opposite of Moulin's table. Moulin frowned as he looked at Tyve and Troid.

"Hello, madam-"

Moulin's eyes flashed a deathly glower which made Tyve shut up. "What do you want?"

"Uhh... " Tyve's smile. "I apologize for disturbing the young master..."

Moulin put down his book as he leaned back with crossed arms. He assessed the brothers with strong yet unimpressed eyes. Snow had the same look as well. The little fox put his paws at the edge of the table arrogantly.

Tyve and Troid shivered under Moulin's gaze. For Snow, they were determined to ignore the small beast.

"Is there something you have to say to me?" Moulin simply asked with an impassive face.

"Yes!" Tyve grinned. He leaned closer as he spoke, "Is it true that you rescued the Lord and Varick in the northern mountains alone? That you finished the assassins chasing them? You see Varick chatters a lot and some of them aren't even true. We... just wanted confirmation..."

"And why would I need to relay such information to you?" Moulin raised an eyebrow.

"It doesn't take a lot of effort to answer, Moulin. Simply a yes or a no would send us on our way..." Troid tried his hardest to flash a convincing smile.

...

Moulin thought for a moment. Finally, he lifted his gaze, "Yes, I did... However, Lord Hadrian was also there to aid me."

"Charming. Was that the birth of the spark of your love? Truly, admirable..." Tyve's eyes gleamed with a hint of amusement.

Moulin's frown deepened. "Shouldn't you be on your way already?"

"We didn't say you would only answer a single question. Right, Troid?"

"That is right, brother..."

"Ugh..." Moulin glowered. "Preposterous..."

"Grr..." Snow growled at the twins.

Tyve and Troid began to fire questions at Moulin. Moulin mostly answered a plain yes and a no at the end of every question. Sometimes, he didn't even bother to answer.

The thunder roared louder and louder to the point where Moulin and the twins have to pause.

"Why is it raining so hard?" Moulin unconsciously asks as he stared at the windows.

Both Tyve and Troid froze. They turned to Moulin with questionable eyes. "You don't know?"

"Know what?"

Tyve blinked. He glanced at his twin brother who only nodded at him. Well, it wouldn't hurt to tell. Moulin was the Lord's lover nonetheless. Perhaps, Lord Hadrian was afraid to let Moulin know.

Moulin noticed the strange looks the brothers were giving at each other. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion and curiosity. Was it so important for them to hesitate to tell him? "Speak..."

"Our Guild Lord..." Tyve began as he gazed at the pouring rain. "... Lord Hadrian Leonile is a uniquely powerful man. His overwhelming mana cannot simply stay dormant when the Lord doesn't activate it. There are times when his mana goes rampant due to his emotions. His ability ables him to manipulate and summon thunder clouds. As absurd as it sounds, it is true. Thus, when the Lord's emotions becomes vicious, the manorial experiences violent weather sometimes." Tyve shook his head. "It is godly terrifying..."

Moulin blinked. A crease appearing between his brows.

Seriously?

The Lord's emotions can influence the weather?