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   Chapter 77 No.77

The WeatherMaker Hearts Desire By Lady Lilium Characters: 5146

Updated: 2018-07-10 19:03

He looked at the girl again.

She looked happy.

'Here' Shawn said to him, interrupting his thoughts as he passed Farrell a platter of cheese.

It was past lunchtime and the two were ravenous, having not eaten yet today. They shared a few meagre portions they had bought from the innkeeper, and had sat outside together to eat.

It was warm on this day, the air was humid. The longer Farrell sat where he was, the hotter he felt. He was just contemplating returning inside where it was cooler, when another voice interrupted his thoughts.

'Ahoy there!'

Farrell turned scowling towards Barrel who was waving jovially at the two of them, the top of his head just visible over the wall he stood behind, his great scar shining in the sunlight.

'What is it?' Shawn called back.

'Perhaps there is something here you would like to see' Barrel answered back being deliberately cryptic.

Farrell's initial annoyance at the sight of him instantly vanished to be replaced with hope and nervousness.

He rose quickly, leaving the platter of cheese on the wall and jogging over to where Barrel waited for them.

The two approached the wall, jumping over it to join Barrel on the other side who was smiling. Farrell glanced about him expectantly.

'What?' he demanded in annoyance.

'Look' Barrel breathed. 'Over there, do you see?'

Both Farrell and Shawn surveyed the scene ahead of them, a medium sized field where there worked many. But Farrell noticed something strange. Standing on the edge of the field was a small crowd. They talked and muttered amongst each other, pointing to a spot in the centre of the field.

Farrell furrowed his brow curiously, glancing back to the field itself, and to those who worked within it.

And then he saw.

A young woman was standing with her back to him. She had long black hair.

Farrell swallowed back the lump in his throat, scratching his sweaty palms as he approached her slowly. As he did so, he was vaguely aware of another figure near him. It was Arlen.

The young woman half-turned, standing with her side to him and staring down at her hands as she did so. The pile of soil she held in her cupped hands changed, before his very eyes.

From the soil she held, grew flowers. Great twisting vines and bright coloured leaves and petals.

Farrell drew a sharp intake of breath, taking a swift step back uncertainly.

In the woman's hands the plants grew, spilling over her fingers and pouring down to the earth, she smiled down warmly as she watched.

Good lords Farrell realised. She's doi

ng this!

One of the men in the crowd that watched at the edge of the field cried out.

'Witch!' he declared loudly striding threateningly towards her. 'What sorcery is this?'

He was quickly seized by his companions who held him back, speaking hurried words to him to calm him down.

The woman, startled by this had dropped the handful of soil, and the plants she held in a matter of seconds withered and died. She had for the briefest moment been afraid, but had recovered quickly. One of the men that had watched bowed repeatedly to her, fumbling over his apologies for his friend's behaviour as he showed the palms of his hands in submission.

The woman watched the small group as they dragged their angry friend away. A few others lingered, as if waiting to see what she would do next.

Farrell glanced back at her, remembering the words Danior had spoken.

I don't know where she is, but I know that your daughter…I know she is unique.

'This…isn't possible' Farrell mumbled to himself in disbelief. 'Magic….doesn't exist…it must be a trick…'

His heart jolted again suddenly, as he realised the woman was watching him.

'Hello' she said.

His words were caught in his throat, and for ages, he just stared at her.

The young woman slowly lifted her arms; holding herself as she began to avoid his gaze. Farrell realised he was making her uncomfortable.

'I'm sorry' he stammered. 'I…I didn't mean to….'

'What do you want?' she asked him, speaking harshly now.

'I just….' Farrell struggled to gather his thoughts and form them into a sentence.

He looked straight at her.

'What is your name?'

'My name?' she repeated curiously. 'Oh. It's Annabel.'

His world came crashing down. He knees began to shake.

'Has it always been Annabel?' he asked her hopelessly.

'Yes' she replied, frowning at the absurdity of his question. 'It's all I've ever been known as.'

He let out a desperate sob, head descending into his hands. His body hunched over. He fell slowly to his knees, and began crying in the dirt.

Annabel stared down at him in wide eyed shock.

'I don't know what came over me' Farrell was saying in a mumble. 'I never really thought I'd see her again, but when I saw that woman….' Farrell gritted his teeth. 'I thought…….gods……what if it is really her. But….' He trailed off.

'It's ok' Barrel sang happily, sitting on the wall behind him. 'I too have felt the sting of grief.'

'Have you?' Farrell asked him uncertainly.

Barrel didn't answer him; instead he began to laugh hysterically at nothing.

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