Noldua the Gloaming

<i>'‘I once called her ‘Witch of Dark and Night and Cold’. My intention was to insult. Only later did I see the warmth within. The heat of her passion. The radiant glow of her intellect. She may not be spontaneous, or the soul of any social gathering, but her cool demeanor, steady hand, and quiet unwavering confidence I trust more than anything else in this world.’ – <color=#774418>Solanar the Gleaming</color>, on his love, Noldua</i> * Night. Darkness. Shadow. Places for secrets, hiding, and solitude. These were what made Noldua feel at her most comfortable and excited. If ever she was in trouble, or the target of malicious bullies, it was in the moonbloom glades where her parents would find her, lying among the nocturnal flowers’ cold, soft petals. There, her imagination ran wild. Naturally, Noldua was drawn to the magicks of night and shadow, as well as the cycles of the moon and stars. She developed her passions in Durham Forest, but there was only so much she could learn there, and the endless – and often lethal – politicking between sorcerers and astromages stunted growth and learning. So, Noldua left. She made for the Bibliotheque Spire, the greatest academy in all Kaerok, excited for what she would learn. Noldua was not expecting to meet a High Elf called Solanar, also a new arrival, who was fascinated with the sun, light, and summer. As befitting his passions he was brazen and loud, asserting the greatness of sun magic, 'disturbing peace' wherever he went. Noldua challenged him. The Elves’ arguments swiftly became the talk of the Spire. Each was learned and quick-witted. Noldua threw insults like barbed darts, her facts and logic deployed and sent into battle like soldiers by a master general. She was convinced Solanar only sought the knowledge of the Spire so that Aravia might unleash what he learned against Durham Forest and her people. She may have left that place, but it was home, where the night was darkest. Soon, the Spire’s leaders declared that if Solanar and Noldua continued fighting they would both be banished. Fuming with quiet rage and embarrassment, Noldua retreated into the darkness of her chambers and never emerged during daylight. In this time, Noldua could not stop thinking of Solanar. His arrogance. His brashness. His blindness to his intellectual shortcomings. His laugh. His wit. His smile. His warmth and ease of making friends. His handsomeness. His passion which she could so easily relate to. Her attraction only made her hate him more. It was all a part of how he got his way, she thought. Time calmed Noldua’s anger and she persuaded herself that she wouldn’t let that ‘golden dolt’ stop her from gaining the full benefit of being resident in the Bibliotheque Spire. Over time, however, she engaged him in his attempts at small talk, even short conversations not related to work or study. She was surprised by his politeness and humor. The Mistwood Elf, Nerine, Noldua’s closest friend in the Spire, saw the quick looks Noldua gave Solanar behind his back. In observing Solanar, rather than arguing with him, Noldua came to see his nature in a more objective light. He relentlessly pursued the knowledge he desired to have, railing where necessary against the rules of the Spire. People enjoyed being around him, drawn to his love of life. His enthusiasm was infectious and Noldua saw him excite academics about work they had previously abandoned out of frustration. The two Elves’ conversations gradually moved from polite to productive. They shared ideas, questions, and thoughts, each enlightening the other or pushing them into new domains of their expertise. Noldua realized that night and dark were not everything. Light was necessary – Teleria needed both. Thus it needed Solanar. She understood that Light – and him – made her life better. She loved him. In a rare act of public demonstration of her feelings and rectitude, Noldua had part of her hair dyed gold and she wove golden ribbon through it, acknowledging her 'enlightenment'. Nerine – and many other Elves of the Spire – wondered that, if she and Solanar could shed their hatred, maybe Aravia and Durham could.