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The WeatherMaker Hearts Desire By Lady Lilium Characters: 4889

Updated: 2018-07-12 12:03


Amaia turned back to the drop before her, gazing around at all she had done.

It looked beautiful, and eerie.

She smiled then, feeling happy. For so long she had kept her magic secret, hidden somewhere deep within her. Now she was free, and no matter what happed in the future, she did not regret this day.

'I did not even know I was capable of such things' she spoke to herself briefly, before moving away from the drop, and back towards the line of trees.

A short time later, Tristan returned, having caught the horses. They mounted them and headed back home.

They didn't go out for a few days after that. Amaia felt exhausted again, after using so much magic, her body was not used to such a strain. She spent most of her time after that day, sleeping and lying around. It was as if a king, who spent his days sitting about his palace, suddenly went on a long march and took part in a long battle. For the soldiers it would have been tolerable. For other Weather Makers it may not have felt so draining. But for Amaia, who had rarely used magic in her life, and had never done so to such an extent, the experience was shattering.

She used no more magic for days after that, and did not leave the cottage for ages. But when she did, she made sure Tristan saw her leave, testing whether or not she was truly allowed to come and go as she pleased. She tested whether or not he would allow her to be truly free, as he had said he would.

She made eye contact with him, before she walked through the door. He sat there and did nothing, watching her go.

'Is it safe for her to leave?' the younger servant asked the prince as she stood beside him.

'I have done what I can for her' Tristan replied solemnly. 'If she still wants to go….then I have failed.'

'So you think she will return?'

'Yes' Tristan said to the servant. 'I think so.'

Amaia returned several hours later.

It was many days after that, that she started calling him father, and even longer after that, when Tristan felt ready to tell her.

He sat her down, and they began to talk.

'You may ask me now what you wish' Tristan said to her. 'And I will answer.'

'Who is my father?'

'I am your father.'

'Is that the truth?'

'Yes.'

Amaia hesitated. 'Then who is my mother?'

'My wife. Her name is Olithia. You will meet her in time.'

'What's she like?'

Tristan hesitated. 'You will find out when you meet her.'

'When will

that be?'

'I don't know.'

'Does she know I'm here?'

'No.'

Amaia thought for a moment.

'Who are the people I grew up with? Ramana and Farrell.'

'They are…' Tristan paused in thought, '…just a happy couple living in a small town.'

'Why did they raise me and not my own parents?'

'Because you were not safe living with us.'

'Why?'

Tristan hesitated, reluctant to answer. For the longest time he didn't speak.

'Because when you were born, we knew instantly you were a Weather Maker. You were not safe living with us…because of my father.'

'Who are you then?' Amaia asked him.

'I am the prince, thirteenth in line. I have twelve older brothers that live, and next to no chance of inheriting the throne. Not that it's in my interest anyway' he shrugged.

'A prince' Amaia repeated, brow furrowed. 'It's hard to believe that my father is actually a prince.'

'It's hard to believe in magic' Tristan answered simply. 'Yet you possess the skill to do such astonishing things. Is the fact that I'm a prince really so hard to believe?'

'I suppose you've got a good point there' she admitted. 'Do I have any siblings?'

'One. An older brother' Tristan said. 'He is a soldier. You will meet him in time.'

'And…' Amaia began, shifting uncomfortably, 'was that man truly your father the king, the man who ordered my imprisonment…who hurt White Feather?'

'Yes' Tristan nodded glumly.

'How can such a monster be your father?' Amaia asked incredulous. 'Be my grandfather?'

'We don't all turn out like our parents' Tristan told her sadly.

'Why would he do such a thing?'

'His wife…my mother, is also a Weather Maker. She has fallen into a coma for some unknown reason. She has been asleep for over thirty years. My father seems to think that Weather Makers possess a power that can wake and return her back to the way she once was.' Tristan sighed then, shaking his head. 'There is no reason for him to believe what he does, but he refuses to give up hope. He loves her more than the earth……and has become a desperate man grasping at straws. He believes other Weather Makers can help him because that's all he has left now. The hope that his beloved wife will someday return to the way she used to be, is the only thing that's keeping him on the verge of sanity.' Tristan lifted his head. 'That faint hope is the only thing he lives for now. It wouldn't take him much to tip him over the edge.'

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