“Everything we do, even the slightest thing we do, can have a ripple effect and repercussions that emanate. If you throw a pebble into the water on one side of the ocean, it can create a tidal wave on the other side.” — Victor Webster

“I apologise profusely that we will arrive after the onset of the events. ”

Ignoring the fact that Pa'Drig's words are empty of truth, I place my hand on his elbow. “Prince Pa’Drig, do not worry. The first part will only cause us to yawn – all the speeches and traditions that need to be fulfilled. You've spared us a bore.” This time my words ring of lies; I would have loved to be there from the very start.

We arrive at a large residence with sandstone columns supporting its high roof. The courtyard, lacking the usual stone surface, is filled with plants and luscious carpets of grass supporting the horde of horses grazing upon it.

After the servants put the litter down, we are welcomed by members of the Second Order. They lead us up pink marble steps, through wrought iron gates, with golden spirals as handles into the hall I stumbled upon the night before.

The log benches that Khairrim Cadeyrn whipped out of the water last night, have been overgrown with moss. Familiar forest trees grow in the corners of the hall. A tangible mist hangs in the air. I cannot fathom how, but it seems as if the forest grew in the hall in the span of a few hours.

The seats are packed to the brim with those of the Order and humans curious about legendary elves. Nudging Aedan and pointing towards three open seats close by the arena floor, we start to make our way towards them as the current fight draws to a close. The scrawny human's sword clatters to the ground and the blue-clad elf takes a bow to the cheers of the crowd.

Faolan, Elorhim and Marabel Swiftfoot are seated at a table in the arena, just to our right. They're all dressed in blue, and they all look regal, but with straight shoulders and the characteristic Elderlight pride, Faolan seems taller and more impressive than the other two. A small golden circlet rests atop his midnight mane.

Strongwind's voice booms through the hall as he calls for the next contender.

The cheers from moments before dissipate into silent hushes as a woman carrying herself like a queen walks up to Faolan. A head with ash brown hair pulled into a high ponytail rests on her shoulders that are thrown back in self-confidence. Her indigo eyes, pale and round, regard the world with cautious friendliness. She is dressed in a white, high-collared shirt that leaves her arms bare with an ultramarine scarf, complimenting her striking eyes, knotted around her neck.

Her modulated voice fills the hall. “I am Ash, the Lonely Tree. I wish to join the Second Order.”

Aedan taps repeatedly on my thigh. Fighting the urge to slap his hand to allow me to watch the scene unfold undisturbed, I turn to him.

Even though his face has been drained of colour, his mouth is drawn into a self-satisfied grin which widens when he sees my frown.

The odd encounter is cut short when Faolan answers, his fingers tapping against the table. “Welcome to the Recruitment of the Second Order. I am Faolan Darkwood, and my companions are Elorhim Strongwind and Marabel Swiftfoot.”

She nods and pulls at her hair, drawing my attention to her pointed ears.

The gesture doesn't escape Faolan, whose chair scrapes against the floor immediately after. “Firstly we have a few basic questions, and then we will move on to the next part of the interview.”

Not everyone who wants to join the Order will be allowed to join. Our Lord has the ultimate say in whether someone can join. He usually allows most people to join, except if they are criminals or of questionable morals.

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.

Without giving her time to recover, he sends a storm of water towards her. She forms a shield with the nearby water and his assault crashes into her, making her stagger backwards. She panics as, against her expectations, the shield engulfs her and constricts, pressing ever closer until it breaks on her. The water falls to the floor and soaks through. He lets go of the last of the water in his hand. She stands there, dripping wet. He just leaves and disappears into the crowd.

The crowd jumps up in applause, Aedan, the Prince and I among the wowed spectators.

“Truly spectacular,” the Prince says. “I have never seen anything as marvellous as that. Can you also do that?”

“We are still too young to know the full extent of our powers. They should mature in the next two centuries,” Aedan replies longingly.

“That is so exciting!” the Prince replies happily.

Faolan hushes the crowd by lifting his right hand. “Ash, you will no longer be called the Lonely Tree, because no-one in the Second Order is without friends.”

The crowd claps again.

“We have all enjoyed spectacular performances today, but it is time for our events to conclude,” Elorhim says after receiving a confirmatory nod from Faolan.

The crowd disperses and pushes out of the hall.

Faolan walks to us as the throng of people pushing dies out. “Prince Pa’Drig, I hope you have enjoyed the events today. You were quite lucky to see such a performance. Usually, it is just sword fighting and people reciting historical facts.”

“I am without words,” he answers with hitching breath.

“Prince Pa’Drig, would you allow me to borrow my brother and sister for a while?”

Oh, here comes the crucifixion!

“Of course! You only have to promise me that you will all attend the masked ball tonight.”

“Of course we will! We won’t miss it for anything in the world,” I reply sweetly, giving Faolan a glance to remind him that we are needed alive to establish a diplomatic relationship.

“In fact, I hope our brother does not keep us too long. We have to ready ourselves,” Aedan replies smoothly.

Clever Aedan! He has just placed Faolan under the obligation to not keep us for too long.

“Of course,” Faolan smiles.

The Prince disappears into the humdrum of the crowd.

Faolan smiles dangerously. “That was clever, Aedan, really clever, but don’t worry, you will have more than enough time to powder your face.”

Aedan looks at me with round eyes.

“Follow me,” Faolan orders curtly before leading us to a hallway on the opposite side of the hall.

“Elorhim told me that you arrived without your horses yesterday. He also told me that the horses have not been seen among the rest of them.”

Time to own up.

“No, Laelia, let me finish. I don’t care how you lost the horses, but what matters is that you lost two elfish horses – two living beings that are part of our community. You do not know that their new masters will treat them kindly. Your lack of responsibility has rendered them to an unknown fate.

“I understand your curiosity and drive to explore and experience everything, but you cannot let it affect those around you. The thing that sets us apart from humans, and convinces elves to follow our family, is consideration. You have to show everyone and everything you come into contact with, that you consider their needs and place them before your greedy wants.

“I have no lesson that I can enforce on you to teach you this.” He sighs through pursed lips. “I will see you at the feast.”

Even though his words are not a punishment, it makes me feel more terrible than any amount of torture could possibly have.

We are carried back to the castle in grim silence, the Prince's inconsiderate and inappropriate chatter dulling to unwanted background noise.

“Aedan, we need clothes for tonight. We can’t wear the same ones again,”

I say as we arrive back to our rooms, pointing to our current attire.

“We also need masks.”

A knock interrupts our debate on the current crisis.

A maid curtsies in humble apology for the intrusion. “I was asked to give this to you in order to buy suitable clothes for tonight.”

Aedan takes the bag from her, coins rattling inside. “This is a fortune!” Aedan exclaims without opening the bag. “Who is our benefactor?”

“I’m sorry, your highness, I was paid handsomely for my silence.”

She hands Aedan a card. “The Lord also said that the man at this address might be able to help you with appropriate clothes at such short notice.”