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   Chapter 53 No.53

The WeatherMaker Hearts Desire By Lady Lilium Characters: 5010

Updated: 2018-07-10 19:03

Farrell crossed the entrance hall, pausing for a moment as he noticed a mirror upon the wall.

He approached, standing before it and looking back at his tired self.

He was nearly fifty years of age now, but he looked older than that, and felt older still. His skin was worn like old parchment, and there were wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. His hair had grown streaked with grey, as had his beard which was scruffy and unkempt.

Farrell moved away from the mirror, feeling even lower, a broken shadow of his younger self. He turned slowly and lowered himself down to sit upon the bottom of the stairs. He brought his feet up, placing his arms around his knees, and sighed.

He thought of how meaningless his life had become. He thought of what he might do for the rest of the day, and almost nothing came to mind that was of any value.

And then he thought, of tonight. He was sure that when he slept, he would dream of her again, and she would tell him again, the same thing.

'Find me….'

'If I dream the same dream tonight' Farrell spoke to himself, his voice echoing in the empty hall, 'I will take it as a sign. If I dream the same dream tonight, then I will leave this place and never look back.'

But something inside him held him back. Raman he knew was dead, but Amaia had never been found, dead or alive. Was there really a change that she could have survived after all this time? Farrell was reluctant to give into the possibility. He had already come to terms with her disappearance, and didn't want to suffer false hope.

'But…' Farrell mused to himself. 'What if……?'

That night he slept, and the next morning he rose early, dressing quickly he slipped on his boots before storming from the house.

The dream had come again, as he was sure it would, and he felt in his heart now that it would haunt him until he found her. One way or the other.

Farrell strode down the path heading towards the town and in the direction of the home where Alice lived, his brother's widow.

Alice was sitting at the table in the kitchen having breakfast with her children when Farrell knocked on the door. Her son Shawn answered the door, and Farrell asked if he could come in.

Shawn moved back, allowing Farrell to enter.

'Farrell' Alice said in surprise at the sight of him. 'How lovely, I haven't seen you in…gods how long has it been?'

'Can I sit down?' Farrell asked her.

'Of course' Alice smiled at him, and Farrell took the only remaining seat that was unoc

cupied, the seat his brother used to sit.

Farrell glanced across the table at Alice. He had hardly seen her at all over the past twelve years, and he realised now as he sat before her, how she had aged. She was still pretty, but twelve years was a long time, and the loss of her husband had taken its toll on her, she was greyer, and skinnier than she had been before. Even so, she still looked far better than he did.

On one side of her sat her daughter, Gracie. Nineteen years old now, she was a beautiful young woman, no longer the childish girl Amaia used to play with all those years ago. Now she sat with a good posture and an air of pride and maturity. Farrell then thought with sadness, that Amaia might have perhaps been the same.

Shawn had closed the door, returning to the kitchen, he sat beside his mother on her other side from Gracie. Farrell glanced at him. He was a fully grown man now, handsome, and in height towering over his mother and sister.

They were a beautiful family together, the three of them. And even though Alice had lost her husband, as Farrell had lost his wife, she had managed to continue on with life. Farrell thought then what was, and what could have been.

'What can we do for you?' Shawn spoke up. 'You never visit anymore. Is there something wrong?'

Farrell smiled uncertainly, wondering how what he was about to say would sound, and how they would take it.

'Not wrong no' he said slowly. 'I'm not sure I know how best to explain.'

'Just give it a try' Alice said encouragingly, quickly finishing her breakfast and pushing her plate to one side. 'There's no harm in that.' Beside her Gracie listened silently.

'Do you remember' Farrell began, 'it's not a nice memory I know, but do you remember the day that Ramana died?'

Alice immediately pursed her lips, glancing away from him briefly before facing him again.

'I do' she said shortly.

Shawn watched Farrell carefully, wondering where he was going with this.

'I just had a recent thought' Farrell went on. 'Amaia, my daughter…her body was never found.'

'And this thought has only been a recent one?' Gracie spoke up for the first time.

Farrell glanced at her; she sat rigid in her chair. He wondered how she had taken the loss of her childhood friend. They had been very close. Perhaps she blamed him. He had never known, had always assumed she was too young to fully understand.

'I have had these dreams' Farrell spoke to her now, 'that plague me every night.'

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