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The WeatherMaker - Prince of Light By Lady Lilium Characters: 5149

Updated: 2018-07-12 12:03

'Don't make this harder for yourself' Andrew spoke calmly to him as one of the men handed him an item. 'If you resist, it will only hurt more.'

Cam's head was forced back by one of the men, and a steel gag placed over him, forcing his jaw open. He squeezed his eyes tight shut, tears of pain running down his cheeks as his gums began to bleed.

He tried to make a noise that only came out as a moan. Cam opened his eyes, seeing Andrew coming closer to him, holding the item he had been handed, which was a plastic tube.

Cam clawed the edges of the chair he sat on as the tube was forced down his throat. He thought suddenly of Brioke as food was passed down the tube, tears streaming down his cheeks as he endured the process.

When it was over, and Cam was alone again, he sat on his bed hugging his knees and crying into his arms.

It was horrible, all so horrible.

'Luke…' he sobbed. 'Why is this happening to me?' He held himself even tighter, digging his nails into his own flesh until it hurt. 'Where are you?' he snarled desperately through gritted teeth. 'Why aren't you here?!'

He heard the sound of the door opening then, glancing up suddenly he saw a figure enter his room. A figure from the past.

Cloaked in black with hood raised, hands gloved in black velvet, and face covered by a plague mask. There was a distinctive female aura about this figure, and unlike the other masked figures, this was felt very familiar.

A memory flashed suddenly in Cam's mind, one he had until then forgotten.

The slice was deep and the blood ran quickly, staining the grass as it seeped out of the artery.

Cam's eyes travelled down to the grass around her body.


There was so much blood.

'Auntie…' Cam whispered.

The male hooded figure rose to his feet again, standing with his back to Cam. He replaced the mask back where it was, covering his face once more.

And then he turned fully around, suddenly staring at Cam head on.

'It's you!' Cam gasped, the memory hitting him suddenly like a physical pain.

The figure wordlessly slid towards him across the room, towering over him like a building.

A frightening spectacle.

Cam stared wide eyed at the masked figure; he was utterly frozen, caught in uncertainty. Was this a kind figure like Auntie, or a cruel figure like the one that had killed her? Now he wasn't so sure.

'W-what are you doing?' Cam asked, voice shaking.

Without warning the figure lashed out, grabbing Cam by the wrist.

'What do you know of me?' the figure hissed in a male voice.

Cam dre

w a deep breath as if about to scream, but the figure clapped his hand over Cam's mouth, quickly silencing him, still holding his wrist with his other hand.

The figure grasped Cam's jaw firmly, nails digging into his flesh. Cam winced painfully at this.

'Shhh' the figure told him calmly, gazing at him through black eyes. The circular windows in his mask reflected back only Cam's terror. 'We don't want to startle the other patients.'

The figure paused; hand still over Cam's mouth to see if he would react. Cam remained obediently still, uncertain as to yet whether the figure was friendly or wished to cause him harm.

Seeing Cam's compliance, the figure slowly relaxed, releasing Cam's wrist from his grip and withdrawing his hand.

He straightened up.

'To answer your question as to what I'm doing here' the male figure said to him, 'I am here to see to your well being.'

'My…' Cam uttered, '…wellbeing?'

'The others like me have taken an interest in you' the masked figure told Cam casually. 'I have come here to…how should I put this…make you feel better.'


'Yes' the figure nodded, as if pleased their conversation was going somewhere, as if to him it felt like it was progressing. 'So tell me Cam' he tilted his head. 'How are you?'

Cam only stared up at him blankly, unable to answer.

'I know' the figure smiled. 'You're worried for your brother.'

Cam's eye lit up at this and he suddenly tensed.

'Yes' he hissed eagerly. 'Is he alright?!'

'He's fine' the masked figure answered flippantly, '…I'm sure.'

Cam faltered.

'Is…is he alright?' Cam asked again. 'He's not hurt or anything is he?'

'Why would he be hurt?'

'He hasn't…' Cam began. He fell silent, biting his lip. 'Why hasn't he come to see me?'

The figure fell silent.

'Why was I captured and jailed like a criminal?' Cam went on, 'why was I sentenced to death? How could that happen?' he bowed his head, fighting back tears, looking up again as he managed to control himself. 'Was it my brother who organised the men to save me from the fire?'

'No' the figure answered.


'It was your mother.'

Cam hesitated. 'My mother?'

'She doesn't love you' the figure told him casually, 'as I'm sure you already know very well, but she has more reach and influence in secret places than you are aware of. Not in the council, not in the open, but underground. She deals with criminals and outcasts and assassins, many of which are the dregs of your father's army that existed long ago, the last honest men left in this world.'

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