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The WeatherMaker Hearts Desire By Lady Lilium Characters: 5230

Updated: 2018-07-11 19:03

'Be careful' her friend warned indicating the knife she held. 'You wouldn't want to get cut now.'

Sarah kissed her friend on the cheek, sailing away happily with her arms out as she glided across the kitchen towards some of her other friends, who were working feverishly on the next meal they would prepare for the important woman. Sarah immediately began to engage in conversation with them, talking and laugh with her friends, completely unaware of being watched.

The important woman had opened the door a crack, hearing the animated conversations from within. Looking into the kitchen she saw the woman who had served her tea bustling about, far too busy to notice her. She watched them all closely, despite being servants, and working for so many hours in the day, they did not seem tired. In fact they seemed happy and lively. Herself, with so little to do, grew bored very easily, and spent long hours of the day just sleeping to pass the time, be it night or day. She woke when she felt like it, having nothing to look forward to in the day, not ever. The books she read could always wait; and the views outside her window would always be there. Beautiful though they were, over the years, they had lost their appeal.

The important woman closed the door sadly, turning away from the sound of laugher with an ache in her heart. How she longed to have someone to care for, and who cared for her in return. How she longed to meet someone who would speak to her, smile at her, even look her in the eye for more than a brief moment. But there was no one; there had not been anyone, not since the days when she was younger. Not since that day she had been taken.

She had grown up very quickly after that.

The important woman glided down the halls, away from the kitchens and towards the quieter rooms in which she lived. And then, she began to sing.

A heavenly voice which echoed through the many halls in which she wandered, sounding eerie, though no less beautiful. She drifted through the building, her home, singing as she did so in a truly angelic voice, singing in a foreign language, sounding almost otherworldly.

She continued with her mantra, her notes long, drawn out and sad. She came to one of the windows, slowing to a stop before it and gazing out at the horizon beyond her reach. She sang her last notes, light and beautiful, before stretching into silence.

She gave a deep sigh, eyes glazed over; then stiffened suddenly at an unexpected noise, a rustling just outside the window. She straightened, becoming slightly nervous.

There came the rustling again.

She stepped

tentatively forwards, uncertain as to what she might find. Perhaps it was just a squirrel she thought, or a bird.

But when she reached the window and leaned out to see, it was not a bird she saw, nor a squirrel, but a man, or what appeared to be at first glance a man.

She gasped and started back, withdrawing quickly from the window in shock.

The man (or so it appeared to be) had been balanced precariously on a very thin ledge outside the window and just out of sight. He had grinned at her as she glanced him, balanced carefully as he was. The ground was a considerable distance below him, to fall would surely kill a man. But he was not a man, as the important woman was about to find out. His hand reached around the edge of the open window, and she watched as he clambered in, maintaining at least some level of dignity as he did so.

He did not acknowledge her at first, but straightened up, brushing away leaves and dust from his person; much like a cat would preen and fuss over its appearance. And then he looked at her. And then he smiled.

'Hello' he said.

The woman was so stunned at his sudden and unexpected appearance, and the fact he had willingly looked at her and chosen to smile, that it took her many seconds to realise he had actually and willingly spoken to her.

'Uh' she said.

'Is that how you greet all new people?' he asked her teasingly, leaning towards her and placing his hands on his hips. 'Uh.'


'Oh so now we've progressed onto eeee's, how lovely.' He flashed her a mischievous grin, baring his perfect white teeth in a self confident manner.

He was lean, young in appearance and slim-faced with almost feminine features. His slick black hair was handsome, and a long fringe hung low over his face.

'My name is White Feather' he said to her, flicking back his fringe to see her better. He bowed to her, taking her by the hand and kissing the back in a way she had only read about in books. 'I am a friend' he told her. 'I come with intentions of peace, I will never harm you. I am an ally.'

When she didn't answer, he looked up at her, releasing her hand slowly and straightening up.

'Dare I ask' he began, 'the young lady her name?'

She gathered herself mentally, taking a deep breath before speaking.


'So the lady can speak' White Feather glowed. 'And might I say what a beautiful name you have.'

'Who are you?' Amaia asked White Feather.

'Well' he bowed his head. 'I am sure I already told you my name. Perhaps you should be asking, what am I?'

'I don't understand.'

'Then permit me to explain.'

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