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The WeatherMaker - Prince of Light By Lady Lilium Characters: 5066

Updated: 2018-07-10 19:03

She found him exactly where she knew he would be. She had caught him just in the nick of time. He was a prince, about to leave on a dangerous journey to prove his love to her. He would be travelling with a troupe of gypsies. They all turned towards her as she called out his name.


He wheeled around, eyes growing large in disbelief.

He caught her in his arms as she fell into him, her long hair falling around them in slow motion.

'Bella! What are you doing here?'

She lifted her head, gazing adorably up at him, eyes shimmering.

'I had to see you' she whispered, '…just one last time.'

'I love you Bella' Rafael breathed, beginning to sparkle.

Roses suddenly appeared in the air around them, their petals swirling around in a gentle breeze.

'Oh Rafael…I'm melting…' she moaned, sinking into his arms.

'I'll never let you go' Rafael said, leaning over her, his lips hovering over hers for a kiss.

'No, we can't' Bella said turning away. 'The stars are watching…'

'I'd die for you!' Rafael spoke suddenly sharply, grabbing her and pulling her sharply towards him.

'Oh Rafael….Rafael…'

She blushed as she raised her head towards him, as Rafael began to kiss her.


Cam glanced up.

'Cam I know you're in there! Open the door.'

Cam snapped the book shut, turning with a grimace towards the door of the library.

'Go away Luke!' he hollered back. 'I don't want to see you.'

'I don't believe that for a second' Luke called back, his voice muffled through the door. 'Let me in!'




There was a brief silence.

'I'm going to give you one last chance to let me in!' Luke called.

'Piss off!'

'Fine' came Luke's muffled voice, 'if you won't let me in' he continued as if he hadn't heard Cam, 'then I will let myself in.'

'Yeah' Cam scoffed under his breath, turning back to his book. 'Good luck.'

There was the sound of receding footsteps, then silence.

Cam's eyes began to skim over the pages as he continued with his story. He was a fast reader he had found, and he managed to read a book a day, sometimes two, on a good day. When he had been younger, he had enjoyed books, but not to the same extend as he did now. Now, he obsessed over them. Now, all he would ever do in his spare time was read. Now, it was all he had.

The books he would pick up, he quickly became lost in their pages, so entranced, his mind a whirl, his imagination vast. The words on the pages would paint the most vivid and beautiful picture

s in his head, the worlds he learnt of, the lives of the people within them. He felt…at times…as if he could feel their very heartbeats.

Cam was just slipping into his trance as he continued to read; when he was suddenly jerked back from it and back to reality.

It was only a small noise that he heard, but to Cam it was overbearing.

Cam tilted his head curiously, narrowing his eyes.

The noise happened again, and Cam realised suddenly what it sounded like.

It was the sound of something being unscrewed, something in close vicinity to the door.

Cam furrowed his brow in annoyance, and turned his head very slowly towards the door.

Cam closed the book again and put it down. He slid off the edge of the smooth polished wooden table on which he sat, rising to stand.

The library which had become his favourite place was a large room, with a high ceiling and lots of open space between the tall dark wooden shelves which were filled with thousands of books. It was bright inside the library, but the windows, like all of the other windows in the palace, had been replaced with warped glass. The sun could shine in, but nothing could be seen through the glass, looking inside, or out. It had been this way since that day, since the first burning. Even after all these years. Some things had not changed. Seven years had passed, and neither of the young princes had been allowed to leave the palace, not once in all that time.

They could not see out of the windows of their home, but on some nights, they could still hear the screams, as heretics were tied to stakes and burned, on the orders of the same people who cared for the young princes. The right hands and the left hands of the king, the council that now cared for the throne, until Cam came of age.

The screams at first had been terrifying. Now to the princes they were as normal as the sound of the wind blowing, or the heavy rain patting against the windows in winter and on dark days.

The brothers hardly registered these sounds anymore.

Cam drifted closer to the door, doing so slowly, reluctantly. His footsteps echoed on the smooth floor in the library. As he drew closer to the door, he passed a statue of a boy, a life-sized statue of the god Filis, a child of about twelve, with six wings, long flowing hair and upwards pointing horns.

Cam had always liked this statue, the expression on the boys face as he smiled with his eyes closed, was one of peace and tranquillity. At times, Cam would simply stand before it. Staring.

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