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The WeatherMaker Hearts Desire By Lady Lilium Characters: 5131

Updated: 2018-07-11 12:03

Below them in the field grazed a black stallion, around him were many chestnut mares, some with foals, some of which were black. The day around them was picturesque.

'I was going to make a chocolate one tomorrow' Ramana said, staring down at the cake she held in her hands. 'You like chocolate don't you?'


'Not as much as lemon though.'


That sat in silence side by side, looking over at the town below them.

When Farrell next glanced beside him, Ramana was gone.

Farrell woke to hear a strange noise. He leant forward a little, trying to see out of the open door to his room. He heard the strange noise again, but this time he could identify it. It was the sound of footfalls. Someone was running.

Farrell placed his free hand on the side of the bed, pushing himself up with a groan. He swung his legs off the edge of the bed and rose to stand; thumping across the room he placed a hand on the doorframe. He leant forwards and looked both ways down the corridor, spotting a young boy standing at one end. When the boy realised he had been seen, he slipped out of view.

Farrell cocked his head curiously, straightening; he made his way in the direction the boy had gone.

He reached the room at the end of the corridor, a larger room, where many patients stayed together in one place. All of them were asleep, but around the room scattering about, were several boys, varying between the ages of seven and sixteen.

As Farrell watched them, he noticed they were up to mischief. Some of the boys were swapping the patients medicines, some of them were tying the patients to various objects around the room, so that when they stood, they would take with them whatever they were tied to. Some were swapping their food and their clothes. The boy that Farrell had seen called out to the others in a harsh whisper.

'Hey stop someone's seen us.'

All the boys stopped what they were doing instantly; standing where they were and looking extremely guilty.

Farrell glanced about the room.

One of the boys approached him. 'What happened to you?'

'Yeah' another asked stepping forward. 'Why do you have that bandage on your chest? And why is your arm in a sling?'

'What's beneath the bandage?' another boy asked. 'Show us.'

Farrell looked from one face to the next as they watched him eagerly.

'Show us' another boy repeated moving closer. 'Why are you here? What happened to you?'

'I was…' Farrell began, '…in a fight.'

'Are you a soldier?'

'Yes I am' Farrell said to the boy who had spoken.

The boy

s began to move closer to him, no longer guilty but curious.

'Show us what's beneath the bandage.'

Farrell lowered his head, using his free hand to carefully pull back the bandage on his chest, to reveal the burn and scarring.

'Cool' many of the boys said at once moving closer still. 'How did you get that?'

Farrell replaced the bandage, patting it back down carefully against his chest.

'I was fighting against another soldier' Farrell said, taking a seat beside the door.

'Was he big?' asked one of the boys.

'Was he scary' asked another younger boy.

Farrell glanced towards the younger boy with a smile.

'He was the most terrifying man I have ever seen in my life, with glowing red eyes like a demon's, and great horns that grew out from his helmet, cruel and twisted they were. He wore a long cloak that was red like blood, and armour that was carved from human skulls. And by his side, he carried a massive hammer, wreathed in flame.'

'What does wreathed mean?' one of the younger boys asked.

'It means the hammer was made of flame' a boy said.

'It doesn't mean it was made of flame' another argued.

'Anyway' one of the elder boys interrupted loudly before an argument could break out. 'What happened next?' he asked Farrell. 'Did you kill him?'

'I did' Farrell leant forwards, whispering dramatically. 'But it was no easy task mind you. He was huge, a monster of a man. Eight feet tall at least and built like a mountain. One hit from his mighty weapon and I would have been dead! Squashed like an ant!'

The younger boy's eyes grew like saucers as they tried to imagine such a thing.

'There I was…' Farrell spoke in a hushed tone, 'facing this monster alone in the heat of battle. He had me in his sights, and I saw death in his eyes. If I had died that day by his hand, my soul would surely have spent the rest of eternity burning in a pit of fire. I knew that, but that did not faze me. I marched before him, raising my sword up high as he turned to face me….'

Farrell told the boys of great tales and stories of his past in battle, and the many victories he had won and battles he had fought throughout the better years of his life. He spoke for a long time until one of the healers came in to shoo them away, grumbling angrily at the games they had played on the patients earlier. The boys all scattered in different directions so that the healer could not catch them, quickly vanishing from sight like wisps of cloud on the wind. Soon enough, the room was as it was before, silent, as it should be.

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