Part 3

Everyone in the yellow division gathered in a classroom in the study hall. Mrs. Larson entered and told us all that she would take us out one at a time to another room where the evaluation would take place. Carly went first but when they called for the next student she didn't return.

As usual with my luck, I was very last to go. My legs felt stiff from sitting so long as Mrs. Larson led me out. She opened the door to another room the same size as the one we had been in before but this one was most definitely different.

There were no desks or chairs inside. The walls were painted  a dark green and the carpet was soft and comfortable . There were four people sitting in a square on the floor. They were wearing strange cloaks of the same colors that covered the walls.

"Do as the keepers say and you will find your power," she whispered before closing the door behind me.

Professor Mason motioned me to sit; they were all strangely silent and sever looking. Professor Mason began "Stretch out your hand."

The cloak he wore hid his face. I tentatively reached my hand out to the wooden bowl he offered me. At once the earth in it surrounded my hand not touching it. He took the bowl back and the earth settled back into it not dropping a single particle.

Next he placed it on the ground and grass began growing in it. I was told to place my hand on the soft plant, which flattened underneath my hand straining to get away from it. I could tell that earth didn't like me.

The four people shifted position so that I now faced a dark red clad figure. I couldn't see much of her face but she looked oddly familiar with her long dark brown hair that curled slightly. She held out her wooden bowl that was full of dancing red flames. There was no way I was going to put my hand in the fire. If it didn't like me would it burn me? She gestured for me to put my hand into the bowl. I tentatively reached my hand out toward the fire. Just like the earth it leaped about and encircled my hand. It took a lot of self-control not to wrench my hand backward. The flames felt warm but never touched my skin. The fire keeper withdrew her bowl and shook her head.

I did know the girl in the white cloak; it was Drew Larson the girl with the multicolored eyes. I wondered why a student was part of the evaluation or ritual, as I was now thinking of it. Her bowl appeared to be empty but as I placed my hand in it a wind sprang up inside. This time I felt it not only around me but actually touching my wrist in a seemingly playful manner. I looked at Drew hopefully. She placed the bowl on the ground gestured for me to spread my fingers above it palm down. The wind took a moment but then whistled through my fingertips. Drew took the bowl back shaking her head and the keepers changed places again.

The last was a man with a short black beard but so much of his face was in shadow that's all I could see. His bowl was full of water and as he raised it I saw his fingers were black. It jumped from the bowl and, like the wind, enveloped my hand. The keepers all looked hopefully at this and the man placed the bowl on the floor. Just as with the wind the water shot through my fingers and landed again in the bowl without spilling a drop.

The keepers all groaned. That was it, I was just like Carly now, the evaluation had failed. "I sense she is cold," said the fire keeper, again her low voice sounded familiar.

The others nodded in agreement and stood as one. Professor Mason and the women in red backed away as the white and blue figures came forward.

Drew went first, "fill your mind with nothing but air," she instructed. "Imagine yourself flying, weightless, like a wind."

I shut my eyes tight trying to imagine the sensation.

"Raise your hand and envision that same wind coming from your fingertips."

Nothing happened. I felt stupid, standing there with my hand out pretending I could conjure wind. I lost the sensation completely and opened my eyes. Drew looked disappointed.

The man in blue then tried.

"Water, think only of water," his voice had what I guessed was a heavy Jamaican accent. I prepared myself for another failure but this time it was different. I could clearly picture myself floating along a river being one with the water. There was a tugging sensation in my palms; it felt as though the blood in my veins was trying to get out. Instinctively I cupped my hands together and looked down into them. They had filled with pure, clear water. The keepers all let out a long sign of relief. I stared dumbfounded at the water in my hand. With a single thought it started splashing in my hands merrily. With another it dried up instantly. I was giddy at my newfound power. I sprinkled drops of water into my mouth.