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

Chapter 48: Laelia - Repercussions

“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.