Like a Storm. ‘The Diamond of Truth’ Part Three.

The diamond hung from a chain on her neck.  She could feel the fire burning around it.  The storm raged around the safe house.  Dallas was sending out messages while Fel let the magic curl around her hands and arms.

Her father was looking for her.  It wasn’t public knowledge, but it was in the rumours.  Everyone knew the Princess had disappeared.  Only recently they’d heard the ridiculous rumour that the King had turned his own daughter into one of his famed ice statues.  But how was that a surprise when she had taken the King’s most precious diamond.  Anyone who dared to his diamond, let alone steal, faced the possibility of being called a traitor.

She brought her hands together and took a deep breath.  The spark of the storm flared intensely in her consciousness.  She stiffened then pulled away.

“Well?”  Dallas looked at the young Princess.  Dallas was a rebel, but she was also the Princess’s most trusted ally.   She knew the Princess was planning to show the Kingdom what her father kept a secret.

The storm battered their walls, but Fel ignored it.  Like she ignored everything else.  She twitched her nose in case, but nothing restrained it.  She was free to pursue her magical ways.  Dallas girls waited for them under the shelter of the extravagant litter, specially prepared for Fel, to her disgust, by her father for her return, for all of them to return to the palace with the diamond.

“Let’s go,” she said pushing the heavy yet rotting wood door.

The rain dissipated as she stepped on the cobble road.  It formed a shield around her, drenching her companions where it did not touch her.

On her chest the diamond glowed.  It felt hot against her skin.  She laughed as the thought of her father’s gift to her burning up as her punishment.  But alas, the heat of the diamond didn’t affect the physical world.  It only affected the metaphysical.  She turned apologetically to look at Dallas and her pretty warrior girls.  They turned heads in their garish and unprecedented clothing both military-like yet fashioned to fit their curves.

Unlike her they wore pants and knee high boots with short, highly tailored jackets.  Some were in red, some in blue, some in green, but all decorated in purple twist frogs.  Their lips were red and their hair tumbled over their shoulders.  And Dallas was their captain.   Fel smirked.  Dallas was a rebel.  But she had once been trained to be a royal guard.

“Let’s get this shit moving!”  She said with as much vigour as she could muster.

Dallas snorted and tossed her thick blonde hair over her shoulder.

“Your enthusiasm Dallas, never ceases to amuse me.  Really, please reconsider my offer to you to guard me personally.  At least then the King won’t look quite too harshly on you as my friend.”

Dallas snorted again, shaking her head.  While Dallas and her small band of warriors were rebels, they were perceived as harmless to the crown.

She hated the carriage.  She hated the super comfy padding within the carriage.  She hated the beautiful gown he sent.

The King, was feared by his people.  Fel was not afraid of him though.  Not because she was his daughter.  But because she was the only person in the Kingdom who could face him down, well, she thought so anyway.  Her last little run in with the ice statue certainly wasn’t going to deter her.  Though it had shaken her to the core.  Even if she wouldn’t admit it.

Felicity reached up to touch the diamond.  It was hot.  It was always hot.  Looking into its centre, she saw something the purest of diamonds shouldn’t show.  She saw the storm.  It whirled about the diamond, spinning faster and faster, its energy pulsing in her hand taking away time.

The carriage slowed when it approached the never ending steps that lead to the palace above.  Dallas opened the door but Fel stepped out without assistance, her skirt bunched up, but when she stepped out, it bellowed around her, spreading its royal blue colours, vibrant in the overcast daylight.

Her father, the King sat on his pedestal at the entrance to the palace.  Behind her the carriage was drawn away, her father lifted his right arm.  Fel scowled.  She didn’t have to be up close to hear the words he spoke.  Because it was the same to what she was about to say.  She didn’t quite want peace, but if she wanted to show the people the truth, she had to.

She thrust her hand to the sky and said the words of Kyrinian prayer to the sky lord.  “Oh lord above us who casts his wrath where those who walk beneath him, release us.  Give us our peace for just one day.”  Showers and spurts of silver sparks burst forth from her arm; above her the same occurred with her father.

And slowly, oh ever so slowly, the diamond burned on her chest and the rain around them stopped pouring down.

There was no magic stronger than those of the royal family.  When the rain at last faded away, Dallas and her girls took formation behind her, though they intended to climb the steps with her, Fel considered telling them no.

But even as she considered the thought, each girl put their hand on her shoulders and in the silence that pursued, pledged their allegiance to her.

Her father’s scowl could be seen from a mile away.  She smirked.   She’d made her father pissed mad once again without even lifting a finger.   Serves him right, she thought.  He should never have frozen her like a common traitor.

To her surprise, Gevrid appeared at her side, offering one hand to her.  “Gevrid,” she said surprised, but nonetheless taking his arm.

“My lady.”  He was unflinchingly calm.

“Did my father free you?”

“No.  I awoke on my own, it seems.”

Fel looked at him.  It wasn’t possible, was it, that her dream had seeped into life and that life had become a part of her dream?

At the top of the stairs, she curtsied low to her father.

But he was like the breeze, sometimes he brought a gale, and sometimes he bought the calmness, but most importantly he brought change.

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