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The WeatherMaker Hearts Desire By Lady Lilium Characters: 5377

Updated: 2018-07-12 12:02


White Feather rose to his feet, unfurling his wings and flying over towards him.

White Feather appeared before the figure. Tristan did not seem at all surprised to see him there; it was almost as if he was expecting him to appear.

'You are not welcome here' White Feather told him firmly. 'Amaia does not want you.'

Tristan did not answer; he only stared at White Feather in silence.

'I will be watching her' White Feather told him, 'and you. You have no place being here' he said. 'Go home.'

Tristan leant against the tree with his arms crossed; he stared back at White Feather with sunken eyes. 'I have no home' he answered in a dead voice. 'My parents, my wife, my son…my new child…are all dead. Amaia is all I have left now.'

'I don't care' White Feather glared at him. 'Can't you see she's finally found happiness? She doesn't care about you anymore.'

Tristan didn't reply.

White Feather turned his back on him, facing the town now.

'I will watch over Amaia' he said to the world. 'I will watch over her everyday….until she draws her last breath.' He smiled happily, hugging himself. 'My dear Amaia, I will always be there, but you must live your own life now, with your husband.' He bowed his head. 'I will always be there, always, watching from a distance……but there is one last thing I have to do.'

His body began to glow as his delicate wings grew from his back once more. He lifted into the sky, leaving behind him a trail of glowing light that faded as he went, leaving Tristan behind him as a ghost.

He travelled to a place he knew well, but had not visited in a long while. A small village far away.

White Feather landed gently on the soft earth, taking in his surroundings. The scenic village was peaceful, and the sun shone down brightly upon the open world. White Feather began to wander the village, moving slowly and gazing all about him at the people. Working in the fields, sitting outsides their homes, selling items from stalls, milking cows, he reacquainted himself with this familiar place.

It took only a short time for White Feather to find what he was looking for. He stopped outside the home of a couple called Anya and Roy, the people who had opened their home to he and Amaia after their daughter was taken.

White Feather saw a curious thing then. Sitting on a bench outside their home was a woman he had not seen before. He approached the house, unseen by all around him.

The woman was pretty, with long black hair; she looked to be about the same age as Amaia. Beside her sat a man. As the two talked together, White Feather noticed how they looked at each other, how they smiled at each other. The man placed a

hand upon hers, and she leant towards him, giving him a kiss.

White Feather moved closer to her, freezing as she turned her head towards him and looked him right in the eye. He realised with a start that she could see him. Fairies had the ability to hide from others, but could not make themselves invisible to Weather Makers.

White Feather realised suddenly who this was, speaking out loud as a name came to his mind.

'Annabel…'

White Feather stepped back, slipping out of sight away from her and moving around to the back of the house, where he found what he was looking for.

'Hey guys' he said to the horses. 'Long time no see.'

He untied the two horses, mounting one and leading the other by rope. He travelled at a gentle pace, moving for days across the map, and back to the small town where Amaia had grown up in.

He dismounted the horse he rode, leading the both of them through the town as he walked. He searched for someone, but the old man was nowhere to be seen. White Feather stopped a passerby to ask.

'Excuse me' White Feather said to the young lady. 'Do you know an old man who lives here named Walter?'

'Walter?' the woman repeated. 'He was my grandfather. He's dead now.'

'I'm sorry to hear that' White Feather bowed his head. 'If that is the case, then I believe these are yours' he said, handing the reins of both horses to her.

'Ruby?' the woman said incredulous as she recognised the horses. 'Bell!'

She glanced back towards the stranger, but White Feather was gone.

Epilogue

It was many years later, that Arlen passed away.

Amaia went to his grave, dressed all in black with her hair covered. She laid the white lilies upon the stone slab, rising again. Behind her, her husband Carl held her in comfort.

The year after, Farrell passed away, to join his brothers and his beloved wife in the afterlife.

The year after that, a son was born.

They lived quietly now in a secluded village near the mountains, raising their son they had named Jason, who turned out to be so much more like his mother than his father dared to believe. He was strong and healthy, and grew up happy.

One day, when Jason was walking in the woods alone, he placed a hand upon a nearby tree. Closing his eyes slowly, and taking a deep breath. Frost grew outwards from his palm, engulfing the entire tree, and the ground beneath his feet.

He smiled.

The family lived well, and Amaia was very happy.

But in those days, she would often look about her, and to the skies above.

But she never saw him, not since that day she was given a black mare as a gift from Farrell and Arlen.

Amaia never saw White Feather again.

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