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   Chapter 13 No.13

The WeatherMaker Hearts Desire By Lady Lilium Characters: 5688

Updated: 2018-07-10 12:04

'Are you hungry?' Brice asked Farrell as he drew up a chair.

'No' Farrell replied. 'Thank you. I'm too worried to feel hungry.'

'So what's wrong with Arlen then?' Shawn asked Farrell, admiration glowing in his eyes at the sight of the prodigy.

'I'm honestly not entirely sure' Farrell admitted. 'He's so distracted all the time. I sometimes feel he doesn't even notice me when I'm speaking directly to him. He's not even visiting the temple like he used to. In fact I've hardly seen him there in weeks.'

'I've hardly seen him at all' Brice added. 'I feel sort of bad about it, but he does like to wander off.' He lowered his fork, regarding Farrell closely. 'If he's not going to the temple anymore, then where's he going instead?'

Farrell shrugged. 'His favourite spot now seems to be a rock he likes to sit on.'

'And where is this rock?' Alice interrupted.

'It's…' Farrell began, 'outside the Duke's manor.'

Alice began to chuckle lightly at this, shaking her head at the ignorance of the two soldiers that shared her table.

'You men' she sighed, calming herself. 'You really are so blind aren't you?'

'What do you mean?' Farrell asked her uncertainly.

'Don't you see?' Alice told him with a smile, picking up her fork and chasing the food across her plate. 'It's so blatantly obvious. Arlen is in love.'

'In love?' Brice shared a confused expression with Farrell. 'But Arlen has never been interested in any particular woman; he's never found the right one he's told us.'

'Well…'Alice smiled playfully. 'Now he has.'

The next day, Arlen returned to his rock outside the walls of the manor. And there he waited, there he watched.

It was many hours later in the day, when the sun was beginning to dip and the sky darken, that he heard a sound. Something beautiful.

A heavenly voice, sailing up from behind the wall. Arlen heard it.

It was truly angelic, holy, and almost eerie. The voice seemed to echo, stretching far and wide. Arlen was mesmerized.

Very slowly, he rose from the rock he sat on, forgetting his stiff and aching muscles, and wandered closer towards the wall. Beyond the wall, just on the other side, an angel sang.

The voice, so beautiful, and so sad moved him. He longed so strongly to be on the other side of the wall. With her.

With Ramana.

The voice sang in a language he did not understand, so high, so light.

So perfect.

Arlen reached forwards, touching the stone of the wall which had cooled as the day grew late. He listened to the final notes of the song, before everything went quiet again.

He stepped back, withdrawing his hand from the wall, and realised a tear had run down his cheek. Arlen caught it with the tip of a finger, staring at it closely as the last rays of the sun dipped behind the hills on the horizon.

He looked up again at

the wall that was so tall before him, towering over him; thinking of the woman on the other side.

He took a breath, calming his racing heart.

'Ramana…' he whispered to the night.

Arlen's rest was uneasy that night, he was thinking only of the voice, which haunted him now, echoing in his dreams as he tossed and turned.

He woke with a start, sweating and panting. Throwing the thin sheets back and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He sat there on the edge, elbows rested on his knees and head in his hands.

He straightened, turning behind him to face his bedroom window and looking to the world beyond. The very first hints of the coming day were creeping into the sky. He abandoned thoughts of any more sleep, instead he rose and got dressed, leaving his home early and heading to the forest. The little birds were beginning to sing now, having woken with the first hints of morning light, as he had done.

So fresh was the air, so clean and still, everything was so tranquil. There was not a soul other than himself that Arlen saw in the town as he passed through. Never the less, he moved quickly, not wanting to be seen, only wanting to be alone with his thoughts at this time.

His pace slowed after he passed the border of the woods, the first trees were small and grew far apart, but as he ventured further, the woods became thicker and wilder.

It was many hours he walked, heading deeper into the forest. If someone was to go searching for him here now, they would never find him. And that was the way Arlen liked it.

Back in the town, a group of men on horseback were gathering in preparation for the next big fight. Farrell's eyes slid over the faces of the men, searching for Arlen, and growing ever more annoyed when he didn't find him. He shot a furious glare at Brice behind him, who shrugged, exasperated.

Farrell ground his teeth in anger, huffing as he placed the helmet upon his head. He called to his men.


As the men rode the many miles, they were met with several other groups along the way, and by the time they arrived at their destination hours later, the mass was now thousands strong.

Riding under the banner of the king, Farrell formed the army ready to charge. He raised his sword to signal, and men behind him blew on horns the order to attack. With Brice close by his side Farrell led the army towards their enemy. The sound of the horse's hooves thundering on the ground was terrifying enough; the beasts specially trained for war did not hesitate as they crashed into the lines of their foe. The king, mounted on his white stallion and standing at a safe distance upon a hilltop, watched as the highest ranking soldier in his kingdom led his men to a decisive victory. Surrounded by his guards, he watched as the battle turned into a slaughter.

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