Calasier Avamela Bellime Chapter 14: The Deception, a harry potter fanfic

A/N: Okay, I'm a bit more in the game now. HBP is about to come out and, even though I'm not that excited about it, I can concentrate a bit more on this.

miss quirky bookworm: Oh, thank goodness for that. I was getting worried.

evildictionaryninja: Thanks very much!

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Calasier Avamela Bellime

Chapter 14: The Deception

"Halt!" Bellime thrust out a ghostly arm and glared straight ahead. The other three hastened into the shadow of the trees and, sure enough, they spotted a light on the horizon, just at the crest of a hill, "Noalith, listen closely. What is there?"

Noalith closed his eyes and looked as though he was concentrating hard. Luna kept by his side and did not move. She knew that hearing was his best sense and moving would just distract him. Manastreth and Bellime followed her example. It was obvious that Manastreth was Noalith's father, Luna thought. They looked so alike, with their long hair (though Manastreth's hung around his ankles) and their face shapes. Though, she had to admit, Manastreth's looked more kindly and warm while Noalith's, up until now, had been hard and calculating.

It was astonishing what a change had come across Noalith when he met his father for the first time. She had seen him look so frightened when he had first seen his father and had reasoned that it was the first time his Rinatula had been truly wrong, especially on this scale. From what she had heard before of Manastreth from Noalith, she had thought him a ruthless, bloody tyrant. It turned out that he had been reading all the wrong minds and getting all the wrong information.

Something still puzzled her, though. Hari had to have known about Manastreth's true nature having apparantly fought him. Yet Noalith was a very close friend of Hari's. Then, she remembered that it was harder to spot something one was not looking for. Maybe Hari had pushed it to the back of his mind as well to make it even harder for Noalith to find. No one was a total clairvoyant after all.

Still, it was a good lesson for Noalith not to overly rely on his gift. It was common for people to rely on one thing that promised to cover everything one needed. It seemed it was that way for Elves as well. Noalith gave a small gasp and uttered something in an Elven language. Luna knew only a few words of the language and, though she managed to pick out a few words, she could not piece together the sentence. Those words were 'drow', 'camp' and 'hill'; more than enough for her to get the gist.

This was it: they had found the place where Draco was held with the Warmistress. Luna knew that, being just there in spirit, she could not be hurt but it did not stop her dreading what lay at the top. Noalith straightened up and turned to Manastreth, asking him something in Elvish. This time, she only needed to pick out the word 'Draco' to realise what he was saying. Was Draco there?

Manastreth closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose. Unlike his son, his strongest sense was his sense of smell. When he opened them again, he seemed disturbed and spoke to Noalith in a hushed voice, who translated to her in equally quiet tones,

"Draco's scent is faint. He may be hidden from sight. Underground, maybe. We will be sure when we get closer."
"Let me go! I will clear the place in ten minutes." Bellime suggested. Luna was fascinated by the spirit woman who was Hari's sword. She was like the Muggle interpretation of nature spirits she loved reading about. Muggles were so fascinatingly creative and Luna absolutely loved it. Just like she loved the look of Bellime, so ethereal and majestic.

After a few hours of travelling with her, Luna thought her the most ruthless and brutal of their band of friends. She supposed it came from being a sword spirit; it must be in her nature to enjoy battle. However, force always seemed to be her answer to everything, which Luna rather disapproved of. She was glad Manastreth was with them, who disliked violence and always looked before he leapt.

Noalith was getting better too. He was becoming more merciful as well, if not in only small ways. She loved the new change in him. He seemed so much more...humane. Manastreth shook his head at this point, making her pay attention to the present. From Noalith's translation, he was saying that they should not attack but keep a close watch.

Luna thought this a very good idea. From this angle, there was no way of telling how many soldiers were there or how tough they were. Their numbers were few as well and, though Noalith and Bellime could cut their way through some, they had their limits. And they did not know whether this was a solitary outpost or a whole group in the wilderness.

The darkness kept them hidden while they skirted about the hill, looking for sentries and other camps nearby. As Luna followed them, she noticed a horrible smell drifting down the hill on the wind. Like burning flesh and the muffled, chilling sound of screaming. Despite herself, she moved closer to Noalith, afraid of what those Drows were doing for the first time.

Bellime eventually grew impatient and looked as though she was about to rush in on her own but Manastreth managed to persuade her to stay put (or Luna assumed that he did). Noalith too began to grow uneasy as the smell increased. After a long while, Luna finally could not wait any longer and whispered,

"What's going on? What are they doing?"

Without looking up at her, Noalith furrowed his curved eyebrows and said in a whisper, "They take recently dead bodies or kill elves themselves and surgically place Drow flesh and blood into it. Drow blood has healing power but Drow flesh mutates the body and, if used too potently, the mind. In ancient times, elves took on small amounts of Drow flesh to give them extra strength in battle and Drow blood to heal the wounded. It causes pain but it works. I have never seen it used to create such monstrosities, though. Combined, they can bring an elf back to life but turn them into a savage monster."

"Is that what we saw in the village where we met your father?" Luna asked, with all the astonishment she felt now,

"Yes." Noalith nodded, tersely, "They become, though I shudder to say it, half-Drow and half-Elf. I dread to say it but their bodies is similiar to mine, though, since it is an unnatural conversion, the savagery is a side effect."

Luna was astonished by this but put that aside to think about it. So, if a body was dead, then the Drow flesh would completely take over and turn them into beasts. What if the conversion took place when a body was still living? What would happen then? Noalith said that it could be used to strengthen and heal but could a conversion take place if the person was alive and, moreover, willing. It was a horrible thought but it could happen,

"Indeed, it is an awful thought." Noalith nodded, having probably read her mind when she was thinking of the possibilities, "I would not like to think of it and I am glad the Drows have not considered it."

He relayed her thoughts to a curious Manastreth, whose cheeks turned grey at the very thought. The Drow equivalent of going pale, she supposed. Luna turned back to the camp, "How long does a transformation take?"

"A week." Noalith said, "Perhaps a few hours more or less. There is no exact amount of time."

Luna tried to pick out figures at the top of the hill. The sky was beginning to lighten and she realised that she did not feel tired at all. She had been going miles with Noalith and Manastreth and yet, she was not weary at all. Perhaps it was because her body was in a relaxed state now and she was only here in spirit. She wondered what her limits were and how much she could take before her spirit exhausted. Would swords simply pass through her as though she were a ghost or would she be jolted back to her own world like waking from a nightmare? There was really no way of telling, she could only guess.

There was movement up ahead. Luna could even hear it: a faint rattling of wood like a carriage. Sure enough, she could see the moving mass coming out from between the tents. Something bell-shaped and with strange holes. It took her a few seconds of looking to realise that it was a cage. One that was clattering ominously as though something very wild and very hungry was inside. Noalith was raising himself too, realising what it was. Bellime was tensing too,

"It is another Hybrid." Noalith whispered and he muttered something to his father. Manastreth seemed not to like whatever his son was suggesting but he nodded. It was only when Noalith raised his hand did she realise what he was about to do. She looked away as he speared the new Hybrid. If she listened carefully, she could hear its dying gasps and the cries of shock from the Drows transporting it.

Bellime took this opportunity and rushed to the camp. It was only a few seconds before she was spotted and the Drows were immediately trying to shoot her down. She laughed menacingly at them as the bolts went straight through her and flew down like some terrible angel of death, throwing aside Drows in her path. Manastreth looked on with dread and discomfort, flinching every time a Drow died.

Bellime was there for a good ten minutes, in which Drows were killed and driven away. Some fled dangerously close to their hiding place and Luna buried her head in Noalith's shoulder in an attempt to hide herself, conscious of the fact that her light hair would be more visible in the dark. It seemed to take an age for the noise to die down.

When it did, Bellime flew over them in victory, doing a few loop-the-loops in ecstacy, "One less Drow camp in the world!" She declared. Manastreth's cheeks were grey again and he looked rather sick. She did not seem to notice her friend's disgust. She was too caught up in her victory. Luna reasoned that she was a sword spirit and this was what she was created for. It still was uncalled for, though,

"Can you stop that, please?" She said, after a while. The sword spirit stopped in her tracks and glared down at her,

"Why?"

"It's uncalled for and Manastreth doesn't like it. It isn't good to celebrate death."

She looked sour but stopped her aerobatics. Manastreth's golden eyes (Luna loved his eyes) turned to her and he said a heavily accented and tentative, "Thank you." Luna beamed back, to show that he had said it right. Noalith sighed, some of his old cynicism coming back,

"As unnecessary and bloody as that act was, it does have its advantages. The camp is now clear and I did not hear any sign of Draco being taken with them. Thus, he must still be in the camp." He asked his father something, which Luna guessed must be 'can you smell him'. Manastreth did another check, saying what Luna knew was an affirmative.

Thus, the three of them strode up to the camp. Luna realised, as she was walking up, that she didn't feel the strain on her legs as one would when walking up a hill. It was just like walking across a flat surface. Yet, she could hear, smell and touch everything as though it was real, So, I can feel things if they are outside this representation of me but I can't feel anything in my body. My senses are exterior, not interior. How interesting. I should talk to Noalith about this when we have the time.

The camp was indeed deserted, apart from a few bodies. Luna repressed the urge to put a hand over her nose as the full stench of death hit her. She hadn't come across anything this awful since she saw her mother die. But that had just been one body and this was dozens. Drows, ape-like things which she supposed were the drones but no Draco. She assumed that he would at least be crying for help or at least moving enough for Noalith to realize where he was.

Luna then had a terrible thought. Noalith could get from the human world to the elven world with a bit of effort so the Drows certainly could. What if...what if they were taking human bodies as well? What if Draco had been turned into one of the Hybrids? He could have even been the one Noalith had struck down just now. She forced herself back into calm, not wanting to throw off Noalith's Rinatula by her wild thoughts. She almost kicked herself for being so panicky. Perhaps it was the fact that she was in a whole new world that made her so jittery but she was in capable hands and she had nothing to worry about. It was so easy to forget that her body wasn't here.

Manastreth guided them to a tent much larger and more richly decorated than the rest of them. Though Bellime had rent a large gash in it, it still regained its pale beauty in the breaking dawn. In the red light of the sky, it looked eerily bloodstained although it was still relatively clean, though damaged. A wind came through the destroyed place, whipping ashes into the air and chilling her, I can feel the wind on my skin but it cannot effect anything within me. Manastreth's hair lifted in the wind and swirled like white gossomer. To Luna, it looked like resting wings, flexing after a long flight. She could really see Manastreth as an angel even without his white hair, in his soul and good heart.

Manastreth led the way, Bellime at his shoulder. She was the opposite of their nerves: quivering with excitement, wishing there was something in there for her to strike down. The tent flap was pushed back and they strode carefully into the dim light. Inside the tent, too, there was little to no damage. Just a small wooden figure knocked over.

The interior reminded Luna of traditional Eastern Muggle pavilions with ropes of jewels hanging from the ceiling, a cushion-piled couch to serve as a bed and rugs stretching out across the room. There was something tribal about it in addition. Such as the dangling fangs and animal skins uses as blankets. These seemingly clashing elements fitted each other very well though in a way only Elves could truly achieve. It did look as though someone was living there as there were clothes draped over the table but Luna realised that it had been very long since they had occupied it. Everything looked too neat, too orderly to be properly lived in.

Then, Manastreth picked up a very human-looking shirt and Luna's heart gave a leap. This had to be the proof that Draco was here as it looked like it was made for a male and the trousers folded beside it was further evidence. Her heart fell just as his face did. Noalith noticed this and his face fell as well. He turned to Luna with great trepidation, "That is the source of the smell. Draco is not here. He has left."

The hope that had once filled her was gone like the wind but she tried to keep everyone's spirits up, "But, we do know that Draco was definitely here. This can prove to be a good lead."

Just as Noalith was about to relay this information to his father, the tent flap flew open and Bellime rushed in. She must have come out when she realised that nothing was in there worth looking at. Now, she had something and clearly wanted to show it to all of them. Soon, she was jabbering away in Elvish, too quick for Luna to pick out any words. Very kindly, Noalith muttered the translation under his breath,

"She has found a prisoner of the Drows which she is quite desperate to show Father." Luna's heart warmed to hear him use the word without fear. It must be wonderful for him to have family at last and love the sensation of it. Then, Bellime uttered something that made Manastreth's cheeks go even greyer and he was out of the tent in a flash. Noalith too hurtled after him so Luna was running full pelt to keep up with the sprinting elves.

They reached a tent with a large chunk taken out of it, which was flying away in the wind, twisting and turning in the air above. Bellime ripped the flap clean off and hurtled inside. This tent was clearly not meant to house anyone. There was nothing of the comfort and luxury there was in the last tent. It was full of empty metal cages, like the one she had seen on the cart. Empty except for one.

Something white was held up in the cage at the far end. At first, Luna thought it looked like an enormous white bird as large as a man. Then, she realised that it was a person, hunched over and wearing white robes. The same sort of robes Manastreth wore, in fact. He seemed to notice this at the same time as she and he hurried over. Noalith whispered in her ear, "It is a monk from the same order my father entered into. They worship three sister deities and veil their bodies. It is the perfect place for Father to mingle with elves without prejudice."

"How did he get here, though?" Luna wondered aloud, "If the Warmistress had been in the monastary, your father would have known. I mean, he would have at least noticed the monk missing."
"I know." Noalith nodded, as Manastreth was in the process of unveiling the monk, "Father has heard nothing of this. Though," He added, on an afterthought, "since none of the monks show their faces, would it be easy to swap them?" Manastreth gave a cry of shock and gasped a word that Luna did not recognise. Noalith paled considerably, "It is the Prior, the head of the monastry himself!"

Luna gasped and hurried over with Noalith. The elf's hair was shoulder length and was half-done up in a wrecked ponytail. His eyes were wide and wild, gazing back and forth between them. It must be an incredible sight for him: one of his priests, a sword spirit, a half-Drow and a human all together in a just-wrecked camp to rescue him.

It wasn't surprising that he started jabbering in Elvish too fast for Luna to understand and even Manastreth seemed to have to ask for him to repeat what he just said. Noalith, however, frowned as he read the elf's mind and his expression grew darker as time went on,

"Is something wrong?"

"Yes." Noalith's voice was sharp and had a hint of suppressed panic in it, "Something extremely wrong. We're in trouble. He has been held captive here since the Warmistress first arrived here and has never met my father or Hari. The Prior my father knew is presumedly an imposter and, in the worst case scenario, it could be the Warmistress herself." His eyes widened slightly, looking like pale orbs against his browned skin, "She could have even gone on the rampage to lure Hari there to injure him and used Draco to make my father go after him. Oh, gods!" He gasped at the same time as his father, "The monastary has been left undefended and the Warmistress could be laying seige to it as we speak!"

"But," Luna said, trying to make this dire situation sound less frightening, "what would be the point of taking the monastary?"

"The monks worship Turil and thus, it is defensible. Magical barriers and a fierce defence construction can hold great powers out."

"So, the Drows might have a problem?"

"No. These defences take time to power up and, if it is taken by surprise and conquered, it can become a fortress."

"Oh, no." Luna worried aloud, "The Prince is in terrible danger."

"So are the King and Queen." Noalith was truly starting to give way to panic now, "They vowed to stay with Hari so they are under threat as well. I do not think the Warmistress will kill them as they are too valuable to the land. They may hold them hostage or even to ransom."

"Oh, dear. This is very bad." Luna gulped, trying not to let her nerves show.

Manastreth was even worse. He was almost white in the face now at his mistake and at the prospect of what could have happened to Hari. Bellime then had a suggestion and flew out again. When asked, Noalith said, "She is going to try and find one of the Drows she drove out of this camp to take prisoner. We need more details on this plan so we can find flaws and think of a counter manouvre."

A/N: Oh, no! Everything's going wrong! What will Noalith and Manastreth do next? See you next chapter when I figure it out!