The Chronicles Of The Council #1: The Sun's Tears

Chapter 48: Laelia - Repercussions

Elorhim asks the first question: “Can you wield a weapon?”

“No.” The crowd erupts into hushed tones.

It is not a requirement for recruits to have to be able to yield a weapon, but usually, they do. It takes years to master a weapon, and to put it simply, humans just don’t live that long.

However, with ears like those, she can either only be a half-elf or fullblood, but the latter is highly unlikely as we do not recognise her and, lacking the familiar feel of the forest, she can only be from outside of ArBrae. There will be time for The Order to teach her weapon skills.

Marabel asks the second question: “Do you have any exceptional skills that will contribute to the Second Order?”

“Yes,” she says with a single shrug.

“Would you be kind enough to tell us about them,” Faolan asks as he takes his seat.

“Do you have water?”

“If you are thirsty, you can step out. There are fountains outside,” Elorhim replies with the roll of his eyes.

Without another word, she turns on her heels and marches out.

Faolan raps his fingers on the table yet again, a scowl forming between his eyebrows.

Every jaw drops when she comes back a moment later hugging a large ball of water between her outstretched arms.

Faolan's eyes bulge out and he moves to the edge of his seat, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You should have water in this hall. It made me appear rude just running out of here,” she says merrily.

Faolan chuckles as a blush creeps up his face.

We continue to watch in awe as she starts to shape the water. The first thing she does is to form a tree. She forms a variety of other things, but it is really just showing off: she proved that she has to be in the Order the moment she walked into the hall hugging the water.

After sculpting a series of replications of familiar objects, she sculptures the tree again. The core turns white and the colour creeps through the whole tree until the whole sculpture has turned to ice. She places the frozen tree before Faolan’s table. “It won’t melt,” she informs us nonchalantly.

Faolan’s eyes reflect the awe we are all feeling.

She has to be an elf; no half-elf can have powers that strong. Where on earth did she come from?

A man dressed in black from neck to toe, with a golden mask and a black hood enters the arena out of nowhere.

Faolan stands up and asks unfairly: “Can you melt it?”

“I still need some practice with melting it,” she replies sounding crest-fallen as if she would be refused the Order based on that.

I don’t think there have been more than five elves in total who have been able to melt things. It simply is one of the greatest and rarest powers of all.

Faolan walks to the sculpture, picks it up and walks to Ash. Drops of water rapidly pool at its base. By the time he hands her the sculpture, it has been reduced to its former ball of water.

This time I excitedly tap Aedan's thigh.

Ash the Lonely Tree hesitantly takes the ball from Faolan.

“The second part of the interview will now start,” Faolan says when he has returned to his seat.

The man with the golden mask opens his right hand. The water from the ball in Ash’s arms starts to move across the space between them to his hands. I see her astonishment, but then she stops the water from moving away. His hand lashes out and he sends the water in his hand directly toward her face, but she blocks it just before it hits her. He reaches toward the ground with his left hand, palm facing towards her. Water bubbles up from the cracks in the floor. Droplets lash out at her from every direction. Yet again she timeously blocks it.