A/N: Damn, this is late! Sorry, everyone. This was a hard chapter to do.

evildictionaryninja: Thanks, my sole, loyal reviewer.

Calasier Avamela Prologue

Noalith - Chapter 3: The Prince

Presently, he began to investigate more of his surroundings. Using the body of the spy and a length of rope as an anchor (in the end, he decided not to respect the body), he dove into the sea and swam through this new world with great delight. He knew Drows to be naturals in water but he knew it would take a very long time to regulate his body to breath water like air. He had found this out from Drow minds and did not attempt it. Instead, he practiced holding his breath for long periods of time so he could explore the depths.

He liked being in the water. Its strange cleaning power made him feel like he had shed a skin whenever he hauled himself out. His hair had never been so alive when he was beneath the waves. Before, it was nothing more than black, dirty sheets that was his only clothing. Now, each individual strand came to life and floated around him with the grace of dark swans.

Still, he needed his hair and could not cut it yet. The sun was beating down upon him and he discovered the sting of sunburn after a day. This was perhaps why it was practically taboo for Drows to come out in bright sunlight. Contrary to their skin colour, their skin was extremely sensitive to sunlight. What was perhaps the most wondrous to him, though, was the nighttime. Everything became cooler, the sky darkened (frightening him at first since he had no idea of time) and the over-powerful sun turned into the patient moon. He had heard of stars in the minds of captives and was soon picking out constellations, lying flat on his back in the boat.

On the third day (all wonderfully calm and lonely), he came sight of land for the first time. He picked up the oars and began to row slowly but surely towards it. The little boat came smoothly to the place. A great high cliff reared above him and strange frail coloured slivers flew from it out to sea. The water was shallower but he could not see the bottom just yet. He was just scanning the shoreline for a place to land when -

CRASH!

He leapt from the vessel not a second too soon. Something large and heavy had fallen from the cliff. Forgetting his shock in an instant, he ducked underwater to inspect the damage. A back protruded from a large splintered hole in the bottom's wood but it was the spy's body that he had hauled up. Breaking the surface, he poked his head over the gunnels. A male, dark-haired elf lay face down on the wrapped body. He could not sense his thoughts but, while peering at his head, he spotted a thin silver circlet around his head.

On instinct, he pulled the elf from the boat as it began to sink. He could leave the wooden Drow creation to drown now he had no need of it. It was difficult pulling the elf through the water while keeping both their heads up at the same time. It was all he could do to keep it up while avoiding the treacherous-looking rocks of the cliff. Finally, panting and sweating, he found a beach of shingles. He hauled the elf clear of the water and watched the beaten vessel slide beneath the surface.

He glanced down at the elf. The thing seemed unhurt, Noalith's body had broken his fall and taken nearly all of the blow, he supposed. He took a closer look at him. A Wood Elf, perhaps about three hundred years old, and dressed richly that flaunted wealth without falling into gaudiness. The black hair was sleek, the skin smooth and pale yet he could sense some strange torment about him.

Had the elf attempted suicide and, by fate, failed? The idea of suicide intrigued him. He thought nothing was more important than preserving one's life. To take one's life without a thought was alien to him. He could not help but feel a sort of vindictive pleasure for his rescue. It was the Elves that the Drows fought against and saving one seemed a further insult to his father. Not to mention, a very important-looking one. The son of a lord, maybe.

More of those odd thin slivers blew by him. He looked up, distracted. They seemed to be coming from the top of the cliff and a long path cut itself through the rock. He arose and followed it. The stones were sharp beneath his bare feet but he pursued this path. He had not trodden on something solid and unmoving for some time and his 'sea-legs' were still not fully gone. He could vaguely see pale colour above him as he climbed. Presently, he came to the top of the cliff and was shocked by the cool softness of the grass beneath his feet. Again, he had seen all this in the minds of captives but to be in the scene itself...

He sat down on a smooth flat stone and gazed out at the calm ocean from the safety of the shade cast by the trees, So this is where the wood that makes the hulks comes from. Many flower petals, he identified them at last, blew from the branches in the wind, Is this spring? There were no seasons as such in the hulks. The only way of telling was when the temperature dropped a few degrees in winter.

He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds all around him. Sounds alien but beautiful to him. The sounds of the forest behind him. The faint rustle of the petals, the flutter of squirrel's feet across the branches, the hiss of a distant waterfall. He felt like lying down and taking it all in as much as he could. Then, another sound interrupted the music of nature.

Opening his eyes, he saw the elf walking up the path. Now, his thoughts were alive. He was Prince Hari Valedhiel of Valivial (he had heard talk of him in the hulk), recently brokenhearted by an elf he had met a day ago and who betrayed him for a Drow. He was making too much of everything. He was pampered and spoilt in every respect. He intended to again attempt suicide.

He felt like sighing at the elf, "You wish to kill yourself, Prince Hari Valedhiel of Valivial." There was some enjoyment to be gained by seeing his eyes widen and his thoughts rocket into confusion, "Your mind intrigues me, Hari. You have fallen completely in love and now wish to kill yourself when you are betrayed." He could not help but scoff at his weakness. Predictably, the Prince grew angry at the lack of respect he showed, "No need to act like that to me for your title has no true meaning but in the public's mind." He had learned long ago that authority did not necessarily deserve respect. At last, Hari spoke,

"How do you know what I think when I am silent?"

He briefly considered it and then, spoke, "I am a rogue of your enemy." He showed him the missing right hand, "I am the bastard child of the Drow Lord Manastreth and I have stuck land today. You landed in my boat as I cast ashore and thus, it lies at the bottom of the sea now. I was not tossed into the sea for the Finned Crocodiles to prey on because I have the gift of the Rinatula. Your mind is like an open book to me...and I have never seen such a weak, unprotected and simple one." Just as Hari opened his mouth to reply, he vaguely heard footsteps coming towards them, "Forget me, Prince Hari Valedhiel." He swept into the shelter of the trees, leaving Hari on his own on the cliff-face. He would not attempt suicide again for the words he had heard now prevented him.

Over the next few weeks, he dwelled in the forest area of what he now knew was the island of Lindaria. He ate the fruits (only to test the food in Lindaria, not out of hunger) and bathed in the waterfall to get the salt out of his hair. He could not yet cut it since he had no other clothing or protection from the sun and he had lost the knife he had killed Noalith with.

Everything about this place astonished him. He had thought seeing the sun for the first time was wondrous enough but now he was on land, he knew he had barely scratched the surface. Most of all, he was amazed by the trees. They were the not the lifeless wood he had come to know as the material that made the hulk. They were alive, feeling ravenously for sunlight and water. When he pressed his ear against the trunk, he could hear the rush of water through it.

He had no desire to seek contact with other elves. He knew that a mysterious half-Drow with no right hand would be suspicious and he knew how easy it was for people to get the wrong idea. So, he remained in his hermit life in the forest. Until about a month after his arrival on Lindaria.

He had been bathing, facing the waterfall when it happened, clawing out some tangles in his hair. He did not hear her coming. He only noticed her when he turned around. He leapt onto the bank in an instant, poised for attack. For in front of him was a female Drow, wrapped in a sea cloak though her green robe was visible underneath, leaning on a staff and her chestnut hair wrapped in a hasty bun. Then, he stopped. Her thoughts and even her face seemed benevolent,

"Oh, there's no need to fear me." She said, her kind voice matching these traits, "I didn't mean to startle you. We are searching for a half-Drow with a missing right hand and with the gift of Rinatula."

"That is I, Calenedil, leader of the Lindarian Nimohtar." He answered, having read her thoughts while she had been talking,

"Oh, good." She smiled. She beckoned him forward but this small motion set off a coughing fit that wracked her frail body. It didn't take the Rinatula to know she was in ill health, "Sorry, sorry, I have taken ill a hundred years ago and I have been such an inconvenience to my Nimohtar." After recovering, she gingerly reached into her cloak, "I have been told to give this to you from the King and Queen of Valivial." Calenedil drew out an enormous sack of what looked curiously like gold, "For rescuing the Prince."

"I thank you," He inclined his head respectfully. This was one who was worthy of his courtesy, "but I have no interest in money."

"But, surely, you would like a replacement for the hand you lost." This idea had never occurred to him before and made his eyebrows rise, "There is more than enough to pay the smithy to make you a steel replacement." She held out a hand, leaning heavily on her staff, "At least, let me house you. I'd hate to think of you out here on your own...Oh, goodness. I have not even asked your name!"

"No need for worry." He shrugged, "I have no name."

"Come now, you can't go around with no name." She gently admonished him like a parent, "Give yourself one now. It will make things easier."

After a bit of thought, the name came to him, "Noalith."

"Very well. Noalith, you shall be. Now, come. I'll take you to my home."

Noalith took her hand and, half-supporting her in a moment of weakness, followed her to the main city.

A/N: Thus ends the Noalith arc. I don't know whether to go onto Verimir or do a short bit on Manastreth.