Apprentice? That was almost worse than the truth. Darin had already told this man she wasn’t used to riding, and it was obvious what kind of apprentice Ridahne would take. Darin looked to be the furthest thing from a warrior. If it did come to a fight Darin’s two biggest hopes were to not get in the way and not die. How was she supposed to make it seem like she could be Ridahne’s apprentice?

Mark dropped his hand, “I wasn’t aware that the Azurei took human apprentices; much less ones that don’t seem accustom to riding.” Without asking Mark sat down across from them, “May I ask how that happened?”

Darin wanted to scream at him. She wanted to shout at him to leave them alone. However, she didn’t want to draw attention that didn’t need to be drawn. So, she simply brought her cup up to her lips to hide her face. She was prepared this time, so she didn’t sputter. That was one good thing. She didn’t want to let Mark think she was even more incompetent than she already let him know. Her mind jumped from point to point in order to find a way to answer the question. She didn’t know enough about Ridahne’s culture to answer that question. She might have to leave it to her.

She was in danger and she knew it. Mentally she was kicking herself. Darin had known that this day was coming. People were going to want her dead. Naïvely she had assumed that it wouldn’t happen until her mission became public knowledge. It was possible that Mark had guessed that she had The Seed, but how had he done that. It was just as possible that he marked her as an easy target. Darin didn’t think Ridahne’s presence affected Mark’s plans, whatever they were. He had sat right down without even asking for permission. It was slightly alarming how comfortable he was making himself.

Darin looked up at Luke and Sara. They had not sat down. In fact, it looked like Luke was trying to circle around them. He wasn’t doing it quickly, but even Darin’s untrained eye could tell that he wanted to behind them. This was not looking good at all. Sara looked extremely uninterested in the events. Darin couldn’t tell if that was a ruse or not, but she had most of her attention focused on the entrance. Darin hoped that they weren’t expecting more friends. Darin didn’t like the odds now. Ridahne might count as two, but the human was sure she counted as a detriment. So, it was one against three. Granted Darin wasn’t sure what use a bow would be inside, but Sara might have hidden weapons. So, could Mark.

They were surrounding them, and Darin knew that couldn’t be allowed. She quickly finished her drink. She didn’t like it at all. She stood as smoothly as she could. Maybe getting some more would at least keep her out of the way should Ridahne decide she needed to fight them.

She held out her free hand towards the Elf, “I’m getting some more. Would you like some?”

Ridahne was bristling. From the other side of the tavern, a local who had been watching the scene unfold through the corner of his eye could see Ridahne's posture, her body language, the way she moved like a snake preparing to strike. The old blacksmith was no fighter himself, but he always had dogs and had learned their body language. From that knowledge, he could see that at any minute, she was going to unleash the tempest within her, and that this man and his two friends either had to be incredibly dense or unreasonably bold. Spotting future trouble, he carefully and slowly stood, grabbing the man next to him by the sleeve. They went behind the bar and, after silently exchanging looks with the bartender, the three of them disappeared into the kitchen. It was best to not get caught up in a mess like this.

Ridahne gave a chilling laugh. Low. Cold. Mirthless. "You know nothing of Azurei." It was true. He did not, no matter how much he thought he knew. No one could know Azurei unless they had lived there as one of its own. Darkly, she said, "Then it's a good thing the apprenticeship isn't for riding." As if to explain her point, Ridahne slowly, gracefully reached behind her and pulled out one of her knives. It was not a thin, slender weapon. It had a wide blade near the end and there was a slight bend as though it had been shaped like a boomerang, only with a less steep angle. Humans called the style of blade a khukri. Hers was made of folded steel, the light and dark patterns on its surface polished to a bright shine. Taking it by its dark wooden handle, she slowly and firmly pressed the tip into the wood table with a dull thunk and let it stick there, though her hand was never far away.

The lie wasn't totally fabricated. She had promised to teach Darin how to use a knife--especially after this encounter. And it was not unheard of for some humans to seek apprenticeships from the three elf tribes. But they were selective in who they took on, though there never seemed to be any pattern to what sorts of people they chose. It was whoever they wanted.

Her voice had a hard edge to it as she snarled, "No. You may not ask. Leave us alone. It's your last warning." And she meant it. Darin spoke and Ridahne saw her opportunity. She couldn't just hack at the man unprovoked (even though she felt very provoked at the moment) or she'd risk getting them both arrested. No, Ridahne knew her limits. She needed him to give her a reason, and pursuit was reason enough to defend herself or Darin. Ridahne held up one long, elegant finger. "Martin," she said smoothly, though she never took her eyes off this...'Mark' person. "You have training this evening. In Azurei we do not wield a blade while intoxicated. Drink no more. Go and see to my horse. His mane needs brushing." This was not true at all, as she'd threatened the stable boy into lavishing the animal with good care and attention. But Ridahne wanted to remove her from the scene. And if they attempted to close in, not only would it give Darin a chance to escape, but it would give Ridahne reason to kill. She just needed a reason.

As Darin stood, Ridahne decided to apply a little pressure. Enough dancing around the subject. "Seeing that you haven't left, I assume you want something," she snarled to the three of them. "Out with it." Ridahne stood, plucking her knife from the table and letting it rest in her hand like the limb had no other purpose but to hold that blade. It was part of her. "What do you want?"

Darin gave what she was a respectful nod, “Thank you for the reminder.” She put the cup back down, “I’ll be going now.”

With that she left the tavern. She didn’t like having her back to Mark and his partners. She couldn’t very well walk out backwards though. If there was alcohol in that drink Darin would be waking up with a headache. She didn’t drink for a reason; that reason being that she was the lightweight champion back home. Even the other girls could drink more than she did. Darin hated the fact that she hadn’t recognized the taste. She imagined it was because it was a different recipe. She would have to be on guard in the future.

Once outside the tavern she looked around for a moment to see if she could spot the stable. That was something she could do. She could spot a stable out of any building as long as it was in her line a sight. Once she saw it, she made her way over there. She may not have been used to riding, but she could take care of a horse. She had to know how to do that. She had been a farmer before that all had started.

She was almost there when she found herself stopping to stare at the horse in a fenced off pasture. This was not a horse meant for riding. This was a plow horse. He was beautiful. It was easy to see that his gender; he was clearly a stallion. HE must be in the pasture for breeding reasons. It was almost the season for that. He would make a fine sire. Darin inveterately got closer to the fence. He wasn’t colored for show. He was a dusky tan with darker brown splotches and only one white sock on his left hind leg. His mane was a tangled mess. He didn’t prance; he was too big for that. Instead he marched around the field; surveying his domain the way Darin looked at her fields at the beginning of planting season. This was his land. He needed to decide how to use it best. He wasn’t traditionally a fine-looking horse, but the young farm girl could see the power in his muscles. As such, he was simply gorgeous.

Darin whispered to the wind, “You’re spectacular.”

The voice near her caused her to jump, “Isn’t he? Too bad he’s got a nasty temper.”

Darin turned to see a regular man. He looked like a farmer, like she had been, like she was supposed to be. His skin was tan and wrinkled from working the field all his life. He had kind eyes and a hunched back. More importantly he gave her a very different feeling than Mark had. Darin felt not urge to run in terror.

So, she asked, “Is that why he’s not stabled?”

The man nodded, “We can work him with a plow, but when’s he’s not working he’s mean to everyone. If he were human, I would just call him anti-social. He’s a hard working. He just doesn’t like people.”

The horse must have smelt the apples the farmer had because he had come over to investigate. However, instead of going to the human he knew, he snuffed at Darin’s hair. She let out a shriek of laughter. This horse could literally crush her, but he was just wondering about the person he had never meet before. It was nice in a way. The farmer held out one of the apples to Darin with a smile on his face.

Darin laughed again, “Thank you.” Then she held out the treat, “There you go.”

The horse snatched the apple from her hand without using teeth. As Darin felt safe enough to reach out and stroke his flank. He allowed it as he pressed his nose against her chest. Darin knew he was looking for more apples. She laughed at his seeking. He wasn’t hurting her at all.

The farmer stared in amazement, “Well I’ll be. He seems to like you lad.”

Darin was sure it had nothing to do with her specifically, “I’m new and apples are good.” She asked, “What’s his name?”

The answer was simple, “Talbot. It doesn’t mean much. I just thought it was a good name for a horse.”

Darin had acquired another apple, “Sometimes those are the best names. Aren’t they Talbot?”

The horse whinnied in response as he ate the second apple. He truly was magnificent.

Meanwhile Mark was answering Ridahne’s question, “We’re just traveling Astra. We’re looking for this new Gardener. Any adventurer with a lick of sense is looking for them. Nothing like this has ever happened in Astra. Everyone once to be the one to go down in history as having help them. We just came over to chit chat with you because it can be lonesome on the road.” He smirked, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He clearly thought he had the upper hand. It was three against one after all, and to an outside party it might look like the Elf was the aggressor. After all she had drawn her weapon first. Sometimes it didn’t matter who won the fight. All that mattered was who the locals had wanted to win the fight. He was hoping that it would be him. He was human after all and had been nothing but charming. This Elf didn’t seem to know that meaning of the word.

He continued, “Your boy seems a little jumpy. You don’t think he’s hiding something, do you?”

That was the other question. Did this elf know that her apprentice had some connection to The Gardener? Mark didn’t think the lad had The Seed. The Seed had to be in the care of someone who knew how to take care of it. That boy didn’t seem to know his left from his right and seemed much to soft. Mark was half tempted to say he was actually a girl, but that seemed unlikely. Girls didn’t leave home unless they were warriors.

In the end though it didn’t matter. He had more friends waiting to take the boy captive as soon as he was alone. He would be made to talk about what he knew. Mark had ways of making everyone talk, and this boy would be easy to break.

Ridahne gave him a dark, sardonic laughter. She knew all too well how fruitless the search was for the Gardener, though in the back of her mind she had a growing feeling like she had found her. But that wasn't important right now. Right now, she had rats to deal with. She found their presence irritating and insulting and she did not like the way he spoke to her, nor did she appreciate that Luke person shuffling around behind her. He'd have to be the first to go. But more than that, she knew deep down in her core that these people needed to die. They were evil in a way she'd never quite felt before.

"Didn't mean to upset me? You did a piss poor job of that. I would think that if you 'meant no offense' you'd have picked up on my warnings to BACK OFF." She took a step forward towards Mark. "That lad's got nothing to do with you. But you've got a score to settle with ME. I did warn you. You should have listened." She took another step forward, raising her blade just a little, and this accomplished exactly what she wanted. Behind her, Luke decided to make his move and the moment she heard the ring of steel being drawn, she feigned a move forward and instead doubled back with her knife, stabbing the man in the chest. Blood gushed. Her hand and blade came away bright, wet red. She heard the barman exclaim something from where he'd been watching from the kitchen door, but her eyes were only for the two left.

Mark reeled back as Sarah reached for her own weapon. There was no way she'd have time to string her bow if Ridahne decided to focus on her, which she appeared to, so she had to improvise. She grabbed an arrow and tried to stab with it, but Ridahne saw the move coming and slashed at it with her knife, snapping the wood in two cleanly. Ridahne reached behind her and drew her sword, the longer, elegant blade glinting in the sunlight through the windows. Mark lunged, now with a knife of his own, but Ridahne was ready for him. She swung out with her sword, the blade singing like a nightingale as it slapped his away; his blade was nicked, but hers remained whole and sharp. Then Sarah was on her again, one hand wrapped around another arrow and the other around a very small boot knife. Surely, the two thought, they could best her if they worked together.

But they did not know Ridahne.

She parried a few blows from each of them, one with each hand, and then struck out with her sword to smoothly and cleanly cleave Sarah's knife-bearing hand off. The flesh dropped to the wood floor with a wet smack and Sarah reeled back, struggling to find her breath. A quick swipe of Ridahne's knife, and she struggled a little harder. Blood streamed down a deep cut in her throat, and she dropped. Ridahne rounded on Mark, who looked decidedly less confident than he had before. He backed up a step, but Ridahne followed. She was spattered with blood, including her inked face, and the expression on her face was somewhere between a smile and a snarl. It was the look of a hungry wolf cornering her prey. She advanced on him as he continued to move back until he felt the wall behind him. She had him cornered.

"They never listen," she growled ominously. "I told you to leave us alone. I told you I'd take a hand. Did you listen?" She shook her head and came a step closer. "No, of course not. You picked the wrong person to fight, Mark." Her voice was low, barely above a whisper. "I am Ridahne. I am fire and I am stone. I am your death." A quick swing with her sword and Mark's head thudded to the floor, followed by the rest of him.

The barman had sent for the constable during all this commotion, and it was at this moment that the man finally arrived. He bust open the front door, causing the elf warrior to wheel around, dark hair flinging around her and sticking to her face where it was spattered by blood. The portly man's mouth dropped. He was used to tavern brawls and drunken disputes, maybe some theft, but not...this. The woman before him was sleek and dangerous, and the blood made her look downright crazed. "I..." he sputtered, unsure of what to do. What was he going to do, arrest her?
"They attacked first." She wiped her knife clean on Mark's pant leg and sheathed it, though she kept her sword out. "Stand aside."
The man fumbled. "Um..."
"I don't like having to repeat myself, Constable. Don't test me, I won't ask again." The man immediately stepped aside and Ridahne pushed past him, running off in the direction of the stables to find Darin.

Darin was incredibly alarmed when Talbot suddenly reared away from her one moment and then headbutted her in the next. She went flying towards the ground. She landed on her butt. As she was falling, she watched an arrow fly over her face. Sara had followed her. She landed and, quickly looked over her shoulder. It wasn’t Sara. It was another woman. She had her head shaved like Luke with similar tattoos. Darin had to wondered if that meant something.

She looked at the farmer, “Run! Get inside!” He seemed frozen so she shouted, “NOW!”

She needed to get back to Ridahne. That was the only chance she really had. The woman fired off another arrow. Darin dropped back to the ground. She managed to avoid the second arrow, but now she was stuck. She didn’t think that she would manage to get up before she was fired at again and there was nowhere to go. Darin started crawling to the fence while remaining flat on her stomach. Maybe if she got there she could hide behind the bale of hay. Than again, she didn’t want to make Talbot a target.

The woman shouted, “Just surrender boy. My companions are taking care of the Elf as we speak. I don’t want to kill or injure you. I will do both if I have too.”

While her boyishness irked her mother, her mouth was the bane of the village elders, “I’ve never had an arrow wound before. It would be a learning experience.”

The woman scoffed, “So be it.”

Darin held the wiz that meant she had loosed another arrow. Darin shut her eyes tight only to roll away. When she opened her eyes, she saw an arrow on the ground where her neck had been. She reached out with a hand to feel the fence. She hurriedly used it to get to a standing position. She looked to see that Talbot was watching her. He was too close to the action. Darin looked to see the framer was nowhere to be seen.

She yelled at Talbot, “Go home!”

Most horses knew that meant they were supposed to return to their stable. Darin was relieved to see that Talbot turned and took off towards the stable. She turned to face the woman. She did not look happy. Darin couldn’t blame her. Darin was clearly not a warrior, yet this woman already had to use three arrows on her. Darin for fairly positive that her luck was just about to run out.

The woman pointed an arrow straight at Darin’s face, “Mark says you have a connection to the Gardener. Tell me what you know, and this arrow goes back in the quiver.”

Darin let out a laugh, “Me? Connected to the Gardener? You must be joking.” She gestured at herself, “I mean look at me. The Tree, and by extension The Seed, is the most important part of Astra. I am so incompetent that it’s not even funny.”

The woman scoffed, “Then what are you doing with an Azurei warrior?”

Maybe honesty would be better than a lie at this point, “She found me stuck. I’m just on a journey for my mother. She’s the one who decided I was her apprentice.”

The woman screamed, “You lie!”

The arrow went flying. Darin prepared to fall. Her knees hit the ground. The arrow grazed her shoulder. She let out a shout of pain as her hand flew towards the injury. Darin looked up when she heard another sound of alarm. Talbot had jumped the fence and was currently racing towards the woman. He may not have been trained for battle, but he was still over 1000 pounds of muscle. Darin knew that if she saw veteran plow horse racing towards her would scream as well. The woman tried to fit another arrow to her bow, but she was too late. Talbot reared up. Then he came down. Only the woman’s quick instincts saved her skull. Like Darin she fell. Talbot’s hoofs hit her arm and her bow. Both had to be shattered. Talbot looked ready to rear again.

Darin moved quickly to throw her arms around his neck, “Talbot! That’s enough!”

The woman saw her chance, “You idiot.”

She had grabbed a knife with her good hand and lunged at Darin’s abdomen. Talbot reared again. Darin increase her grip. This time the horse’s goal was to get Darin out of the way. The momentum swung Darin on to his back. The woman missed and went failing towards the ground. She had to drop the knife so she could break her fall. Darin let go of Talbot’s neck to sit up straight.

Darin was surprised at how cold her voice was, “I won’t stop him again.”

There was promise in that voice. The woman couldn’t use her broken bow with a broken arm. If she lunged for the knife Talbot would react. Darin could feel that. She wrapped her hands in her mane to avoid falling when he reared again. The woman looked at Darin’s eyes and Talbot’s stance. She scurried to her feet and hurried away. Darin watched her go. She couldn’t relax until she was sure she was gone.

She was unaware just how ridiculous she looked. She was sitting astride a horse that was much too big for her with her back ramrod straight. She was covered in dirt from her multiple falls. Her shoulder was still bleeding even though she couldn’t currently feel the pain. One hand was bloody from when she had reacted early. She was breathing hard from a mix of adrenaline and exertion. She may have looked ridiculous on the massive beast, but she also looked like, well, like a warrior’s apprentice that survived their first encounter.

That look ended when the woman was out of sight. Darin let out a breath as she fell backwards so her head landed on Talbot’s rump. She supposed that she should get down and find Ridahne. She didn’t think Mark and his crew and bested her, but Darin figured she best check. That could wait just a moment until her heart calmed down.

She patted the part of the horse she could reach, “Thank you Talbot. You saved my life.”

Ridahne was tall and light on her feet, not to mention athletic. So it didn't take many long strides for her to reach Darin, though she was fairly confused about what she saw. Darin was astride a horse--and not Tsura--which was especially odd because the girl had said she didn't ride. And where did this horse come from anyway? And then she noticed the blood on her shoulder.
"Ai!" She exclaimed as she ran up, looking like the stuff of nightmares come to life. She was spattered in blood, red mixing in with her black, white, and blue facial tattoos to make grim patterns. She was alert, which, considering she already had a kind of intense air about her, made her outright intimidating. Intimidating, but graceful in her own right. Her sword appeared to weigh nothing in her hands, her feet were sure and confident, and she moved like flowing water.

"There was another..." she said, mostly to herself as she looked around. Were they still there? She didn't see a body, though she did see a crushed bow nearby. Ridahne studied Darin again, eyes wandering to the strange horse. Blessed Tree, if it wasn't a magnificent horse. She knew something of horses, so she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this one was of an incredibly high bloodline. And it seemed to like Darin an awful lot.

That's when it hit her.

Mark with his odd Teal eyes, the stallion, Ridahne's chance meeting with her in the wilderness. There was no longer any doubt in Ridahne's mind and no amount of reasoning would convince her otherwise: She had finally found The Gardener. The woman rounded on her, mouth still open, and though she was well out of range, Ridahne used her sword to point at Darin like it was an extension of her finger. "You..." she said slowly, eyes narrowing a little. "By the Tree, it's...you." She said the last part softly, not wanting to draw additional attention to them. Ridahne almost looked like, maybe, she could cry at any moment. "I finally...I mean...I've spent so long and I thought for sure it was hopeless but you're here and--" Her eyes widened and the sword came up again, pointing accusatorially at Darin. And though Ridahne scowled and looked a bloody mess, there was a distinct lack of true venom in her body language, her tone, and her expression. In fact, something about her almost seemed...jovial. Playful. "You held out on me!" she shouted, realizing that Darin knew this whole time why Ridahne had come here. "I told you my whole stupid sob story and you said nothing! You were gonna let me go wander the wilds until I withered away and died, weren't you! Ai!"

Ridahne laughed incredulously, bringing one red, sticky hand to her forehead. "I had my suspicions but..." She let out the rest of her breath in a puff of air, shaking her head. She then began to speak rapidly in Azurian before taking a breath, straightening, and in a very formal tone she said softly, "On behalf of the elf tribes and of my Azurei kin, I name you Ri'atal--the Hope of Many. I, Ridahne Torzinei, offer my life and my blade. I will sacrifice either so that you will succeed. Accept me as your guardian and I will guide you and protect you as best as I am able. Will you have me?"

In a moment she thought of her vision and its call to help Darin, but also to save the land she loved in the process. Without the tree, Azurei would fall. She knew it, everyone knew it. And in that moment, losing it felt like the most painful thing she could possibly imagine. Not only was Azurei her home, it was such a beautiful place, and though she hadn't been there for months now she could clearly recall its heat, the sand, the white-capped mountains to one side and the sparkling coast to the other...

A very young, small Ridahne sat in the red sand of the shore, her feet digging little ruts in the moist section of beach. Beside her, a young Hadian lay back with his arms under his head. His face was swollen and the fresh black tattoo on the side of his jaw looked angry and red around the edges, but he was beaming. It was his first. The two watched the sun slip over the horizon, casting an orange hue over the already russet landscape, turning the land to flame. A sweet scent wafted on the sea breeze, mixing with salt and woodsmoke; the haeli flowers were in bloom this time of year.

A single tear did escape as she thought of home, of the events that had led her to this one moment, and she wiped it away briskly. Her finger came away smeared red and she realized that her face and her ojih were probably covered in blood. "Oh!" she gasped, looking horrified. "My ojih! It's..." she made an attempt to wipe her face again but it only made it worse. "It isn't clean, I shouldn't have done this without it clean, ai! Water!" She looked around frantically and spotted a nearby rain barrel which she immediately used to scrub her face and her hands clean. "I'm sorry, that was incredibly disrespectful of me..." Embarrassed, she added, "how's your shoulder? It doesn't look too bad but we might want to get it sewn up."

Darin’s relief at seeing Ridahne was almost palpable. She sat straight up on Talbot’s back as the Elf came running up. She was slightly alarmed at the blood almost all over her, but the human soon figured out that it wasn’t her blood. Ridahne appeared uninjured. Darin let out a sigh of relief. She knew the woman had to have been lying.

Darin moved to get off Talbot, “Yeah, there was another woman with the same type of tattoos as Luke. Do you think it means anything?”

Darin was having problems getting off of Talbot. For one thing he really was too big for her to sit on comfortably. She had managed to somehow get astride him in the slight mess of the fight. She needed to get both legs on one side. Then she would need to drop down. Darin didn’t want to think about that at all. He was huge. It would be a long way down. Suddenly Talbot bent his knees. Darin let out a gasp. When he was as close to the ground as he was going to get, he bucked her off. Darin lost her footing for a moment before staggering to right in front of Ridahne.

It sounded like the Elf had figured out that Darin had lied to her. Well, lying was the wrong word. Darin just hadn’t told her the whole truth. Darin wasn’t sure she wanted to tell her the truth now. It was clear that people were looking for her. Mark and his people didn’t think she was The Gardener, but they did think that she had a connection to The Gardener. How they came up with that Darin didn’t have the slightest clue. The important bit was that they were prepared to kill her because of it. The less people who knew the safer The Seed would be. The only problem was Darin wasn’t sure she wanted to lie to Ridahne anymore. Plus, Darin was pretty positive Ridahne had killed for no other reason than Darin said they were evil. Would it be wrong to return that trust?

Darin scowled as she said, “To be fair. Even this morning I knew you wouldn’t die from withering. You’ll probably be stabbed in the back or something.”

To be fair Darin had known nothing about the woman except she claimed to want to help The Gardener. The human was not able to magically detect lies. It would be better to trust no one than to trust the first person that said they wanted to help. Darin was trying to be smart. Okay, smart was the wrong word. Common sense felt like it felt Darin better. She was trying to display common sense.

Darin continued to scowl, “And I’m not the ‘hope of many’ or whatever. I’m so incompetent that Astra might as well be doomed.”

Wasn’t that the crux of it all? Darin had felt woefully unprepared for this role the moment she got it. She was a farmer. She wasn’t a warrior or and adventurer or a hero. She didn’t want to fail but felt that her failure was inevitable. At least she could take steps to avoid being killed. Even then she was failing at that. Mark had one conversation with her before deciding she needed to be taken captive, and Darin didn’t know why. Darin was almost positive that The Gardener made a mistake. She would just never say it out loud.

Darin turned back towards Talbot. He had jumped the fence to help her, so she needed to find a way to get him back into his pasture. He had stood back up but wasn’t making any moves to return to where he belonged. The human looked over at the fence. Luckily there appeared to be a gate. Darin walked over to it to see that the latch was simple. She lifted it and pulled the gate open.

She whistled at Talbot, “Come on Talbot.” She gestured at the open gate, “In you get.”

Talbot shook his head in away similar to a person shaking their head no. Darin scoffed at the absurdity of it all. Odds were she would have to bribe him back in. To that she would need to find the farmer. She had no idea where to look for him, and she couldn’t leave Talbot unsupervised anyways. He might wander off if she did.

Ridahne smiled, making a wide, sweeping gesture at herself. "Young human, tattoos always mean something." She herself was covered in them, though none were as ornate or precise as the ones on her face. "If you ever got one, you'd realize why one does not just get one, or at least not ones on the face. I'll have to go back and look at Luke's but they weren't of any style I recognized." Red, too, seemed like an odd color to her, though that was probably only because Azurei did not use red ink in their own tattoos.

Ridahne studied her, shaking her head a little. "You ARE Ri'atal. That has nothing to do with your ability, or your confidence. It has to do with..." she trailed off, not willing to say it out loud in case someone else was listening. "But this is why I was sent here! I don't know if the vision came from my ancestors or the previous..." Again, she trailed off. "But I'm here, and fate has brought me to you. You have a job to do, and mine is to see that you succeed. But only if you will have me. This is your quest and it is not my place to decide for you, but if you will have me, I am here and I will serve with honor." Ridahne did not mention that if Darin refused her help, then the elf was honor-bound to return home and, having failed in her duty, would await execution once more. Her crime would not be so easily forgiven and never forgotten, though this quest was the only hope she had to continue living. She wouldn't tell her that. She wanted the decision to be real, to come from her and not from a sense of guilt or responsibility. "Again I ask. Will you have me as your guardian?"

Apparently the horse's name was Talbot, and it was either incredibly intelligent or exquisitely trained. Ridahne guessed the former as she looked the animal over again. "You know..." she began as the horse stubbornly rejected the enclosure, "My people tell of a family--humans--who once bred the best horses in all of Astra. The name of their line has been lost for centuries, but my people call the descendants the Isfali. Legend has it that they chose their own riders and suffered no other. They did not spook in the night and their gaits were smooth and strong. I think...I think this...Talbot? Is of the Isfali...but I could be wrong..."

Ridahne stepped forward, offering a cupped hand to the horse to sniff and inspect. She spoke to the animal in her own jagged language, telling him how fine he was in the elvish way.

Darin scowled again. Ridahne had a point. Regardless of her ability, regardless of her confidence, regardless of the reason; the truth was that she was given a job. She was the only one that could do it. So, she had to do it to the best of her ability. No one but her seemed to care that it was going to be a complete disaster. She was positive that this whole thing was going to end badly. She supposed that she should stop worrying about that and get to work.

She moved over to were Ridahne was talking to Talbot. Darin had heard of that story. Well a variation. It was a story of horses that were well bred and well trained. She had heard the story from a traveler in Lively. They had called the horses Samsons. It was possible the stories were talking about the same breed. The line had been lost. If Talbot was a descendant of them, he wasn’t a pure descendant. Samsons were said to be pure brown. Talbot was patterned. Darin still thought he was gorgeous. She rested a hand on his flank. If he did pick his rider, he wouldn’t pick Darin. He was just helping out.

Darin had to ask, “What will happen to you if I say no?”

She kept her full attention on stroking Talbot. Darin already knew the answer. While they had been riding to Greyrock Ridahne had told her that she was an exile; that she had received her vision the night before she was supposed to be executed. Darin wasn’t a fool. If she rejected Ridahne’s service, the human wouldn’t be surprised if the Elf would have to go back home only to die. Darin wondered what would happen if they actually succeeded. Would Ridahne be allowed to go home? Would her honor be restored? Darin didn’t know why she asked that question. She only knew that she needed a n answer, an honest answer, from Ridahne. She didn’t think it would change her answer.

Darin couldn’t do this alone. Today had proven that. The whole last three months had proven that. She couldn’t keep her supplies, she was lucky that she hadn’t been eaten by wolves, and evil had targeted her. If she had been alone, she would be dead. She had Ridahne and Talbot to thank for her life. She wondered what Ridahne had done to be exiled. Whatever it was the human didn’t think she regretted it. Darin didn’t think Ridahne wanted to die without honor though either. She could have kept her vision to herself. Darin supposed there were worse protectors out there. He attention was still on Talbot. She didn’t have the courage to look at Ridahne as she answered. How lame was that?

The night was dark. No moon graced the night sky over Azurei and even the stars were veiled by a thin mist of clouds that hung in dark patches across the sky like deeper shadows. And it was quiet. The chirping bugs had stopped their singing and all that could be heard was the delicate whisper of wind. Ajoran awoke to this silence, knowing that he was not alone. Curious, he lit a candle only to find one of the shadows reflecting a new shape back at him.

“Ridahne? What are you doing here?” His voice was groggy and tired, though he slowly stretched and sat up. It wasn’t unusual for her to come over when she was in town, and she did sometimes come in at odd hours but she usually knocked or called for him. What was more, there was a cold, heavy air that night that put him on edge. But she did not turn. She did not come to him.
“I’ve done something I shouldn’t, Ajoran. I wanted you to be the first to know. And I need you to tell Hadian.” Her voice was so soft, so cool, like little ocean waves. Something about it bothered him.
He might have taken it as a joke except her tone was so icy, so distant. He felt his blood run cold. “What are you talking about?” He didn’t move from his place at the edge of his bed, almost afraid to move.
“They will come for me. No one knows I’m here...yet. But they will before long, they’ll guess where I am. And I will be marked for the things I’ve done this night. Promise me you’ll tell Hadian?”
He didn’t like where this was going. “Tell him what, Ridahne?” As if in answer, bells began tolling wildly from the palace and a somber note from a low horn echoed mournfully through the night. Ajoran blanched. “By the Tree, Ridahne...is that for you?”
“I don’t have much time, Ajoran.”
“Ridahne!” His voice was frantic, shaking. “What did you do?” Somewhere deep down, he knew. But he needed her to say it.

She did turn to him then, tears in her eyes. That, more than anything else, made his breath stick in his lungs. “Something terrible, Ajoran. I need you to escort me back.”
“Back!? You...want me to...turn you in? Why? Why would you ask this of me?”
“Because you aren’t involved and I need them to believe that too!” Her voice was sharp. “If you wait with me, they will come here anyway and you could be stripped of your rank, or worse. Even if I didn’t come here, everyone knows about you and I. You have to cut ties with me. Publicly.”
Ajoran’s eyes began to sprout tears now. “No, no, I can’t...Ridahne I—“
“Can’t afford to be with me anymore. Do this and let me go...you have to. I die tomorrow.”

—-

Ridahne’s jubilance at finally finding the Gardener faded markedly when Darin asked that question. Something about the elf hardened for a moment, a stony exterior rising where once there had been ease. “That—“ she bit off the words. Her first instinct was to shut her down, tell her it was none of her business. But frankly it was. Indirectly maybe, but it was now. Darin had a right to know, she supposed. “If you don’t take me as your guardian, I will return to Azurei. I will return to my Sol and tell her I failed my final mission. I will be stripped of my weapons and by them I will be put to death. But look here, human.” Ridahne took a step forward, putting up one bloodied finger. “Do not make your decision on my account. You owe me nothing and my life is no concern of yours. It’s already forfeit and I have accepted my fate. I don’t need your pity; the ruling is no less than I deserve.” She softened a little. “But If you want me by your side, it would be my honor to do so.”

It was then that the constable joined them, approaching cautiously with two other deputies who looked more unnerved than he did. One of the lads had a bow, though he wasn’t keen on using it. “Now miss, I know that horse don’t belong to you…that’s ol’ Jack’s. You’ve got some things back there to answer for, now don’t add horse thieving to—“
“Hush, constable.” She gave him an impatient, withering look, though her posture was relaxed. Only someone trained in combat would be so casual while covered in blood. She held up one bloody hand and, gory as it was, it was still elegant. “No horse thieving here. This one just took a liking to young Martin and saved him from being run through with a few arrows.”
He eyed the cut on Darin’s shoulder and nodded slowly. “Er…right. And them three back in the inn? I don’t know how you do things in your land….er…Azurei, if I’m not mistaken from the tattoos? Anyhow, I don’t know how you folks do it there, but ‘round here, murder is—“
“It wasn’t murder. I know your laws, constable,” Ridahne answered coolly. “I drew my weapon first but did not strike or swing until one of them tried to stab me first. That’s defense, by your laws. Besides, another one tried to shoot down the lad—don’t you think that’s proof enough?”
The constable couldn’t actually argue with that. There was some small chance that she was lying about who swung first since no one actually saw it happen, but he did not feel inclined to call this woman a liar. Not to mention she had a point about the lad. “Er…alright…” anyone else, and he might have demanded a trial or further questioning but he had a gut feeling that was a bad idea, nor was it necessary. “But the barman still has a mess in his tavern. You’ll have to pay for that, you know, for cleaning.”
Ridahne nodded amicably. “Deal. Tell him I’d like to rent a room for the night too.”
The constable nodded slowly and numbly shuffled off, glancing back once to give her a bewildered stare.

Ridahne looked to Darin. “There, that settles that. Look…I need to get clean--I’m sure my ojih is a mess. I’m going to spend the night in that inn, and you’re still welcome to join me. Take the time and think on my offer and decide in the morning. Perhaps you’d like to get to know someone first before letting them follow you through all of Astra.” She gave a dry smile.

Darin nodded her acceptance of Ridahne’s plan, “Tomorrow then.” She smiled at Talbot, “I’m going to see if I can get Talbot back into his field. I’ll see you at the inn.”

The human would watch as the Elf walked back towards the inn. Once Ridahne was out of sight Darin would let out a desperate sob that she swiftly cut off. She left Talbot to go stand in the field right next to the gate. Maybe she could lure him back to where he belonged. She didn’t think so, but she wouldn’t know for sure until she tried.

She called out to the horse, “Come on Talbot. It’s time to come home.”

Talbot eyed the human warily before letting out a snort. Slowly he walked back in. Darin walked backwards to lead him to the center of the field. Once that was done, she slowly circled the horse. She didn’t take her eyes off of him. He circled so he could keep her in his line of sight. She slowly walked backwards to the gate. Once she was there it was easy to walk though it and latch it behind her. Talbot had been returned. That was one challenge done. She turned to lean against the fence. Now she just needed to figure out what she was going to do with the other misplace creature she had stumbled across.

Darin supposed it wasn’t fair to think of Ridahne as a creature, but she was certainly misplaced. The human wasn’t sure what the Elf had done to be exiled, but it couldn’t have been good. Darin couldn’t comprehend doing anything to actually be exiled though. She may have not been the elders favorite, and the men in the village looked at her funny, but she knew she hadn’t done anything that would have caused her to be cast out. Even though she wasn’t home now she knew she could go home anytime she wanted or needed to. Home was a safe haven. She couldn’t fathom it being the one place she wasn’t allowed to go.

Darin spoke to the wind, “What do I do now?”

Ridahne’s life was in her hands and, Darin didn’t like that one little bit. Logically she knew that every life in Astra was in her hands, but that wasn’t the same at all. That was vaguer and fluid. This was solid. This was direct responsibility. Darin couldn’t pretend it wasn’t real. She could lie about it. She couldn’t run away from it either. She supposed there was only one option really. Ridahne was going to have to come with her.

Now came a different question. Did Darin want the Elf to come with her? She didn’t know the answer to that one. She barely knew Ridahne. She didn’t know her history. She didn’t know her heart. Darin didn’t think she was evil like Mark had been. Though she didn’t have any proof that the man was evil besides the fact that The Seed had reacted so strongly and so negatively to his mere presence. The Seed had not reacted that way to Ridahne. Though it hadn’t reacted to anyone, but Darin and Mark. So, that meant nothing.

Talbot came up behind the human and headbutted her softly. Darin laughed a little bit at that as she turned back around to pet him the way he was demanding. She ran a hand over the bridge of his nose. Now if Talbot had made the same offer that Ridahne had made Darin would have accepted in a heartbeat. Animals were better that people. Sometimes they did bad things, but usually that was because a person had trained them to be bad. Darin could usually tell if an animal like her and what their motives were. She was having a hard time with people though.

A voice filled the air, “I told you he liked you lad.”

Darin turned her head to see the farmer, “I guess you’re right.”

The farmer continued, “I saw what he did for you. I cleared thing up with the constable. Well I cleared up the horse thieving bit. The dead bodies I can’t do anything about.”

Darin sighed, “Neither can I.” She gave Talbot one final pat, “I best get back to see what I can do to help clean up.”

The farmer nodded, “Best of luck to you lad; on all your journeys.”

Darin smiled, “Thank you. Good night.”

With that she headed back to the inn. The constable had mentioned a mess. Darin could help out with that. The she really needed to find a place to hide do she could check on The Seed. She felt it pressing against her thigh, but she would feel better when she actually got to look at the band to make sure it wasn’t burnt. In addition, the human was tired. She would need sleep before the morning came.

The bodies were hauled out back by the time Ridahne returned to the inn and she guessed someone was out digging them graves. That was good—she didn’t feel like digging herself, but she would help in the scrubbing effort. She had words with the Barman and tried to explain as best she could what had actually happened without revealing anything important. He eventually came to an understanding and let her stay in the inn, though he was clearly terrified by this dark, tall woman, her skin inked and bloodied. Who wasn’t? Ridahne was elegant, yes, but she had never been delicate and instead always had an intensity about her. It was one of the reasons she was scouted out and chosen to study the blade. It was either that or she would remain a fisher like the rest of her family, like Hadian still was. Would her life have been easier if she’d spent it at sea...? Probably. She wouldn’t be here, and she would not have her most recent tattoo in her ojih. Didn’t really matter, she supposed.

Ridahne bathed. She took extra care to clean her face and afterwards used the water to launder her clothes, which she hung to dry. When she came back down to the tavern, she looked much less like a road-weathered wanderer and more like a native Azurei. Instead of the sleeveless shirt she wore a fitted blue half shirt finished with small bone beads on its hem like clinking tassels, though now that half her torso was bare the smooth, worn leather harness that housed her two knives nestled against her lower back was clearly visible. The harness was dark and sweat stained, blood stained, and had seen probably decades of use, but it fitted her perfectly and it moved with her as smoothly as a silk blouse. She also wore a skirt-like garment that hung about her knees, wrapping in a specific pattern through her legs and around her waist. Called an uri by her own people, it was a casual, versatile daring worn in different styles by both men and women. If she hadn’t looked exotic before. She did now. But it also didn’t take away from the air of danger about her, as the outfit showed her knives, more tattoos, and many scars.

Ridahne took a bucket and brush and aided in the cleaning of the dark wood floors, pink suds rising between the bristles of the brush. When the wood was cleaned, she helped dry it with some old ratty towels before taking a seat at the bar and ordering wine this time. What she’d said to Darin about not bearing blades while intoxicated was true—to do so was dishonorable. But despite her lithe frame, Ridahne was no lightweight and could comfortably have a few before needing to disarm herself.

The barman was uncomfortable but avoiding her made him feel more so, so the man timidly tried to make conversation. “So...Azurei, right?”
“Aye.” Her voice was cool and impassive.
“Do you all have tattoos like that..?”
“Except young children, yes.”
“The ones on your face are important, right? Supposed to mean something?” When she nodded into her cup, he asked, “well like what?”

Ridahne sighed and asked, “do you have sex with many women?”
He blinked. “I....I don’t see how that’s any of your business!”
“It isn’t. And my ojih is not yours. If you can’t read it, then it’s not for you.” She said this matter of factly, keeping her tone measured. It wasn’t like the contents of her ojih were a secret to outsiders, it was more that, in a culture that displayed one’s life on their face for all to see and read, it was refreshing to have an opportunity to keep some things private. If she had been close to anyone, she might have answered more fully, though besides Darin, she had no personal connections with anyone outside of Azurei. Besides, she didn’t want to talk about her most recent mark.

It wasn’t like she regretted what she did. It needed doing, she told herself. So she did it. But that didn’t make her proud of what she’d done either. What would her father say if he’d been alive to hear of it? Her mother? Hadian didn’t talk about it, not directly, and for that Ridahne was grateful.

It took Darin longer than she planned to get back to the inn. Her shoulder was starting to hurt. She had injuries before, and she had the scars to prove it. She had to teach herself how to run a farm. Blood was a common sight to the young girl. That didn’t change the fact that she hated pain more than she hated anything. She had learned to keep silent and work despite the pain, but mentally she was screaming in agony. It didn’t help that it was still bleeding. Even through the arrow had just grazed her it had cut deep. Darin had a hand pressed as tight as she could against the injury to try and get it to clot. It wasn’t working. The alcohol earlier wasn’t helping either. The human could already feel the changes to her mental state.

She staggered into the inn and looked around. It looked like she was too late to help clean up. That was probably a good thing. She was starting to feel her vision get fuzzy. She needed to get her shoulder looked out before the blood loss became greater than her body could take. For a brief moment the girl wished for her mother. Whenever Darin injured herself in the past her Mama would be there to patch her up and hover until Darin found her presence vexing. She did her best to never say that out loud though. The human had to cut off a sob as the wave of homesickness overcame her.

Darin spotted Ridahne and stumbled over to the Elf. As she fell into the seat she managed to get out, “I need someone to fix my shoulder please.”

Her grip was incredibly slippery. It wouldn’t be long before she wouldn’t be able to put the necessary pressure on the wound. Darin let out a shuddering breathe as she blinked to clear the spots that had entered her vision. It was worse than she thought. She really did miss home. If she was back home at this time of night Darin would just becoming in from her final round. There would be a cup of cool water and a pot of stew waiting for her. Her Mama would fuss over her and cluck at her pants and short hair. Then, after eating, her mother would insist on looking her over completely just in case Darin had missed an injury.

She spoke again, “Ridahne, I need to keep my clothes on.”

If the Elf or a villager tried to take off her clothes not only would they discover that she had lied about her gender, but they would find the band that hid The Seed. Neither one of those things could be allowed. Hopefully Ridahne would get that. Darin wasn’t sure. Her shirt might need to come off to see the injury. It was a shame. This was one of two shirts that the human had with her. She would have to clean it and patch it up. She may not be able to use a knife, but her sewing was passable. Actually, her sewing kit had been on the pack mule. So, that was a bust. Besides Darin wasn’t sure if she could get the blood out of this shirt.

A thud filled her hearing. It took a minute for Darin to realize that the sound was her head hitting the table. She let out a muttered ow when she finally felt the pain. This was bad. She was getting ready to pass out. She wasn’t even sure her hand was still applying pressure. She let out another breath. She just wanted her Mama.

Ridahne gave a casual turn towards the door when it opened. “Ah, Martin, there—damn...”

The girl didn’t look good. Ridahne had been so caught up in everything, so elated that she’d actually found the Gardener, so busy trying to talk down the locals that she’d forgotten about Darin’s arrow wound. There was a lot of blood. The human sat beside her and Ridahne immediately rose to inspect the wound with her experienced eye. She’d seen a lot of wounds in her time, both from weaponry and from accidents or wild beasts. She used to rescue ignorant travelers from the Dust Sea, the vast expanse of barren, shifting dunes that made up a strong majority of Azurei’s landmass.

The wound was superficial but still deep enough to be a concern for bleeding and infection. It was a clean slice and that would help in stitching it back up. “Ai lad, I’m sorry! I got distracted and forgot you were hurt...and it’s worse than I initially thought...” Ridahne was about to instruct her to get up and follow her upstairs but Darin’s head thunked against the bar. Was she always that pale?

“Barman, bring whiskey upstairs. And hot water.”
“Whiskey..?”
Ridahne gave a dry smile. “Don’t have a sleeping elixir, do I?” With that, the tall elf took Darin’s good arm, hung it over her own shoulder and hoisted the woman up onto her back like an over-long pack. She hauled Darin up the stairs and into the little room she was renting, laying her near the low burning fire. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m good at this.”

The barman came up a moment later with a bucket of steaming water, some clean linen rags, and a hefty glass of whiskey. Ridahne thanked him but shooed him away, latching the door shut behind him. Now alone, Ridahne began her work.
“Your secrets are safe with me. All of them. Here, take a big gulp.” She helped her lift her head and proffered the glass of whiskey. “I’m assuming you’re not the liquor sort, but I need you to empty the glass. Can’t have you squirming on me when I stitch you up.”

Ridahne bathed the wound in hot water, wiping it clean to get a better look. “I hear scars on young men are dashing,” she teased. “I can probably do the stitching with your shirt on, there’s enough of a hole in it now, but it will be easier if I don’t have to maneuver around it and you’ll need to wash and mend it anyway. The door is locked, so nobody will come barging in. And if they come through the window they’ll have me to answer to.” She smiled. It was a joke mostly, though she did mean it. Ridahne pulled a blanket from the bed and offered it to her.

Darin was just aware enough to know that Ridahne had basically thrown her over her shoulder like Darin threw her pack on. She was not aware enough to protest. She was aware enough to know that she was set done near something warm. She was not aware enough to get closer. Darin was aware enough to drink from the glass Ridahne had given her. She couldn’t help the coughing and sputtering. Whatever that was that did taste like alcohol. Darin still finished it the way she had been told. She was also aware enough to process that, yes, the door was locked, and that Ridahne had asked her to take her shirt off. Darin struggled to complete the task, but eventually she succeeded. That’s where her awareness of anything stopped.

Instead she started to think about everything and anything. She didn’t usually take her shirt off in front of anyone expect her mother. She wasn’t truly as flat as a boy, but it was close. Boys made fun of her for that. She had a scar on her abdomen from the first time she had tried to wield a sickle. She had another on her upper arm from a time she wasn’t paying attention and the rope she was using to get the sheep out of the well cut to deep. Girls ignored her for those and all the other marks that proved she had survived her battles. It was lonely in the village after her father left.

She couldn’t help but think of the village as home. People may not have wanted to be friends with her or her mother, but they weren’t outright cruel. They still brought Darin’s barley and wheat. They still sold her soap and salt and other things that she needed but couldn’t make or grow or find on her farm. She was still a part of village life. No one had pretended to honor her when she was assigned her task. They just came together to make sure that she was as prepared as they could get her to go it.

Maybe that was why, if Darin was being honest, she didn’t want Ridahne to come with her. Ridahne’s attitude had changed the moment she figured it out. It wasn’t a complete change, but that “hope of many” thing really unsettled Darin. Darin already knew that she was letting Ridahne come with her. The human couldn’t let her go home to die when she could do something to stop it. She knew that if Ridahne ever figured out that was why Darin was letting her come the Elf was sure to be upset. The human didn’t care. Her Mama had taught her to be kind. Life had taught her to be careful, but Darin didn’t think Ridahne wanted to hurt her. So, she could be kind. She still didn’t like it though. She was just Darin. She wasn’t anyone important or grand like Ridahne seemed to think she was. The only thing important about her was her job, and she didn’t even want it.

And one-point Darin’s thoughts got muddled. It wasn’t long before she was dozing. She blamed the alcohol and blood loss. She fought the exhaustion. She didn’t want to fall asleep why Ridahne was still working on her injuries. It wouldn’t do for the Elf needed her to do something and the human was passed out. It was becoming harder to fight the exhaustion. She hoped it was over soon.

The whiskey did exactly what it was supposed to. Darin wasn’t terribly aware during the procedure, though that meant she didn’t squirm, twitch, or protest as Ridahne stitched her back together. She was good with a needle. She did alright with cloth and leather, but skin? What she did with it and a needle was nothing short of poetry. She’d been tattooing for decades and it was only a short hop to stitching flesh. Her hands were steady, careful, accurate, and she did not hesitate. Every once and a while Ridahne stopped to look at Darin and make sure she was conscious (or mostly conscious anyway) though she didn’t have much reason to worry. When she was finished, the elf took a little wooden jar from her pack and, dipping her fingers into the sweet-smelling amber-green goop inside, she smeared some liberally on the wound before wrapping it in clean linen. She cleaned up, leaving the jar out on the floor by the fire, and settled Darin into the bed and under the covers. “There,” she said. “Good as new. That salve will keep the wound from getting infected. As long as you don’t pull out my stitches, you’ll heal up in no time. Rest now. You look like you need it.”

Eventually, when the room was silent except the crackle of fire, and except for Darin’s very unaware form, Ridahne was alone. It was the first time she had been alone since she’d met Darin, and she had a quiet moment to reflect. The Gardener. She’d actually found her. After months of false hope and disappointment, Ridahne found her. What had felt like exile now had a purpose again, a reason. She could see the hope of redemption within her grasp and a few tears actually escaped her honey eyes from all the swirling emotion inside her. She could go home, she could see Hadian and his new wife. She’d be there when they had children. She could never be an Eija again but she could take up the family tradition of fishing, or she could try and apprentice under a master tattooer. She had a good hand. She could see Ajoran again. They could—

No. No, he would be better off without her. He had his career to think of, his reputation, his whole life. She would not be the one to to drag him down. Though she would be pardoned and allowed to have citizenship again if she succeeded in protecting Darin, what she had done could never be forgiven or forgotten. High treason was not so lightly thrown aside and she would never be seen the same again. Not with her Ojih declaring what she had done. It didn’t matter if it was paired with a redemption mark. The original was still there and always would be. Ridahne was probably the most hated person in all of Azurei at the moment. How could she ever go home, no matter what good she did? She could practically feel the hope sliding through her fingers like cold sand. Whoosh. Gone. No, no matter what her vision had told her, there was no redeeming herself now. If only people understood WHY she’d done it. If only…

Silently, Ridahne took out a wooden box from her pack—her tattoo kit. It was ornately decorated and carved, and it’s contents were clean, orderly, and well kept. And with a single bone needle she stretched out her right leg and began to continue an unfinished design that she began four months ago at the start of her journey. She would add to it for as long as this chapter of her life wound on, bit by bit, one tiny dot at a time. Ridahne always enjoyed tattooing when her mind was mired in confusing or difficult emotions. The pain helped clear her mind, drawing her focus into her work and the sensation of the bone needle getting poked in once, twice, ten times, twenty, fifty. And the act of creating something, doing something beautiful and worthwhile made her feel just a little less grim.

In the dark, silent hours of the night she stopped, smearing it with the same balm she’d given Darin. It was made mostly of honey, which did wonders to fight away infection, and the herbs and oils added to the mixture only improved it. The fragrance it gave off was sweet, pungent, and somewhat floral. It was the scent of her childhood. From treating cuts and scrapes to caring for her first Ojih tattoo, it had always been a part of her life and somehow made her think fondly of her mother.

She did sleep eventually, though she always had a light ear and woke a few times to drunken footsteps in the hall outside, though the night remained uneventful. When Darin awoke, she would find Ridahne on the floor under a blanket, sleeping on her stomach with her kinked hair down and spilling across her neck and face. Ridahne had learned long ago to sleep on her stomach, as it was easier and more comfortable when wearing a knife harness. There had been a time where she didn’t sleep armed, but that was before she was trained and after that she just felt naked without them. It wasn’t even so much that she felt unsafe, especially when she still lived in Azurei. It was just that she was so used to having them on her at all times that they did become a part of her. That was the key to Azurei blade training—familiarity.

Darin’t woke up to see Ridahne asleep. Darin was not surprised to see that the Elf slept with her knife. Darin look at her shoulder to see that it had been patched up. It was sticky too. She licked her finger, touched her shoulder, and then licked her finger again. It tasted like some sort of medicinal ointment; probably to fight infection. Darin supposed that was for the best. The human careful stood. She hadn’t had a chance to check on The Seed yet. She didn’t want Ridahne to see were she had put it. She didn’t want anyone to know. So, she pulled out her spare shirt to put on. Once that was down she carefully stepped over the Elf to exit the room.

Darin was not sure where a good place to check on The Seed would be. Without even thinking about it she left the tavern. She was glad to see the sun was just starting to rise. At least some of her habits were still instilled in her. Her head hurt though. She blamed that on all the alcohol last night. She never wanted to have to drink that much again. She found herself headed back to Talbot’s pasture. He wasn’t there. That was odd. Though that gave her an idea. There were plenty of the places in a stable to hid for a brief moment.

When she walked into the stable, she saw both Ridahne’s horse and Talbot. There were a few more, but those were the two Darin recognized. It was clear enough to see the difference between the horses; which one was meant for speed and battle while which one was meant for endurance and work. Both were beautiful. Darin supposed there was some sort of metaphor there. She didn’t care.

She walked over to Talbot’s stall, “Hey lovely. Mind if I come in for a moment?”

Talbot bobbed his head, so Darin took that to mean yes. She opened the stall and made sure she closed it behind her. She them hurried to the far back and bent down so she was hidden from view. Then she pulled her pants down just enough to see the band. It looked fine. Carefully she ran her fingers over it. She didn’t think the burning she had felt from The Seed yesterday had done any damage.

A voice filled the air, “That looks important.”

Darin’s head snapped up to see the farmer she met last night. This was not a good thing. She didn’t want anyone to see it, but she hadn’t heard him some in. This was not good at all. She didn’t think he was a threat, but that was because he could have put Talbot down when he proved unsociable. He didn’t though. So, that was a few points in his favor.

Darin quickly redressed, “It is.”

The farmer asked, “Important enough to kill for?”

Darin wasn’t sure she knew how to answer that question. Apparently, it was worth killing for. People wanted her dead so she couldn’t do her job. She wasn’t sure she could kill to defend it. She was prepared to just about anything else to defend it. Maybe that was the answer.

She spoke slowly, “Worth dying for.” She shook her head, “Worth living for.”

The farmer nodded, “Makes sense.” He nodded at Talbot, “Talbot says he’s going with you; if you’ll have him.”

Darin looked at Talbot. The horse nodded again. She supposed if anyone knew what he was saying it would be the farmer he belonged to. Darin wasn’t sure she could take Talbot with her. She already had person she was taking with her that she hadn’t planned on. An extra horse might be another story. Though Darin thought she rather had the horse. The only problem with that was at least the human knew the horse would be alright if she didn’t take him. She wasn’t so sure about Ridahne.

Darin reached out to stroke Talbot’s nose. I have to talk to my companion. In fact, I best get back to her.”

The farmer nodded, “That’s a good point.”

Darin passed by the farmer on the way out of the stable. They nodded at each other. They were the same breed of people. She could feel it in her soul. Darin left the stable and headed back towards the tavern. She couldn’t afford to be apart form Ridahne for too long. Who knew? More of Marks’s friends might show up.

By the time Darin returned, Ridahne was up and eating breakfast downstairs in the common room. Fresh eggs, rashes of bacon, and an apple with a mild white cheese. Delicious, but Ridahne found herself missing teruk, a curry-spice that found its way into a lot of Azurei cooking. The spice itself wasn't hot, though most things with it usually were, and she found northern cuisine to be bland in comparison. Not that it wasn't good, and she had grown very very fond of apple pie when she could get it, but it wasn't what she'd grown up on and therefore could never quite be 'comfort food'.

"Yes, but have you even seen him before? Any of them?"
The blacksmith's apprentice, who had heard from his teacher all about what this elf woman had done the evening before, shook his head timidly. He was a quiet lad and not one prone to violence despite his tree-like build. She still had on her traditional Azurian clothing, not her traveling clothes, and her knives were still visible. He could only see the harness from where he sat, but he eyed it with all the same fear as if she'd flashed the blade itself in front of his face. "Ain't seen nobody with tattoos on the face or head come through here...er...um...besides you and that bald fella that you...uh..." He didn't finish that.
"Any idea where that practice comes from? There can't be that many cultures out there that tattoo the face." At his blank stare she prodded, "Nothing? Not even a guess?"

She wasn't being harsh but that did nothing to allay his fear of her. He kept thinking that she was some spirit of death, some mystical being with horrible, terrible powers of death and destruction. It wasn't because she'd killed three brigands in just moments and came out without a scratch. No, there was something about her that almost reeked of death. It was not a physical sense, just something he felt he knew as he looked into those amber-gold eyes. And so relaxed about it too...
He shook his head, slowly at first and then more vigorously. "I...I'm sorry, I just pump the bellows and help Gareth work the forge, I--" She held up a silencing hand and he clamped his mouth shut.
"That's alright er...Damien? I was just curious. Thank you."
The lad nodded again, stood up a little awkwardly and scurried off to the other side of the bar looking like he'd escaped his own death, though he looked back at her like that death was seated on a barstool in the form of an elf woman.

Ridahne saw Darin enter. "Ah, Martin. Good morning. Sit, have some breakfast. How is your shoulder feeling? And...have you given thought to my offer?" She was curious but didn't appear anxious about the question, about her fate. Truthfully, she didn't worry herself over it too much because she honestly wasn't sure how she felt about everything. Best to let fate take its course then, she'd thought. She didn't particularly want to be executed, but some beaten down part of her wondered what else she had going for her, and whether it wouldn't just be better to let her struggle end with as much dignity as she still had left. And yet, looking at Darin, Ridahne felt like she had things to do still. She might feel differently if Darin was in the care of another warrior, someone capable and determined and not easily swayed. But this human girl was alone, and Ridahne had just seen what kinds of things she was up against. She couldn't abandon her to that fate and secretly felt a flash of guilt for even thinking of her own end at a time like this.

Darin came into to the inn to see one boy looking at Ridahne like the Elf was a ghost. Darin was willing to bet that Ridahne had done something to spook him. Then again it was possible that he had just heard what had happened last night. The human wasn’t sure what option would be worse. It was time to leave this town. Darin didn’t want this to go badly. Plus, she knew that The Seed didn’t want to be planted anywhere near here. Darin needed to move on anyways. She moved to join Ridahne for breakfast. She might as well eat something before they left.

The human picked up a piece of cheese to avoid answering the question right away. She knew what she was going to say, but she didn’t know how to say it. She wanted to make sure that Ridahne would continue to treat her like the idiot she was and not some thing worth honoring. The Seed, the job, protecting Astra. That was the important piece. Darin was just a means to the end. Then there was the fact that she wasn’t sure if Ridahne knew that Darin didn’t know where she was going; that she planned to travel all of Astra. At some point the human would have to enter both Siren and Elf territory. This included Ridahne’s home. Unless Darin found the part where The Seed belonged Darin would have to head to the lands of the Azuri, and if Ridahne was bound and determined to protect her Darin had a feeling she wouldn’t be able to back out. Something beyond either of their control would prevent it.

Maybe that would be a good place to start, “I don’t know where I’m going. Not in an ‘I’m lost’ king of way, though I am lost. In a ‘I have no clear destination in mind’ kind of way. It’s the only thing that knows where it wants to be, and he said it would tell me when I got there. I may wind up some place you don’t want to be.”

She was being vague on purpose. The boy on the other end of the room was still eying them. Darin hoped Ridahne got that the it she was talking about was The Seed and the he that she mentioned was the now dead Gardener. By Tree. This was harder than she thought it was. Darin was not used to sneaking around or lying. She picked up an apple to give her some breathing room. She didn’t want to say no to Ridahne. She also didn’t want to take her without making sure the Elf knew all the facts. That would just be cruel, and Darin was learning to lie and sneak, and she might even learn how to fight. She refused to learn how to be maliciously cruel. Her Mama would box her ears if she did that.

She swallowed her current bite of apple, “And Talbot’s coming too. His person says he wants to, and I want him to.”

Okay, she had told the farmer that she had to talk about it with Ridahne, but all of the sudden Darin didn’t care what the Elf thought of the horse. Darin liked him, and the farmer said he wanted to come. She was willing to believe that the horse had told his human that. She was even willing to believe that they could understand each other. It did make sense. She had seen it before. People and animals bonded in strange ways. She had never experienced it, but it was still cool. It helped fill the need Darin had found herself faced with. She needed to ride. She couldn’t walk all of Astra. So, Talbot was coming. If Ridahne didn’t like that she could get over it.

Darin shrugged, “Other than those two things as long as you can promise not to treat me any different than from before we got to Greyrock you can come.” Her eyes were firmly on her half-eaten apple, “I could use the help and you did say you would teach me how to use my knife.”

Ridahne was silent. She was content to see to her meal instead of looking in any place in particular. It seemed like the entire tavern gave her a wide berth, like a school of fish parting to avoid a predator. She didn't mind. She was used to it by now. Most humans were a little wary around Azurei elves, even the ones that didn't give off such a dangerous vibe, as their inked skin often gave them a fierce look and most, even simple merchants or sailors, carried knives. Most weren't as deadly looking as Ridahne's and in fact most of them took on a more utilitarian feel, but they all had at least one. It was as much for daily use and defense as it was a part of their culture. The use of the blade was an art, so much so that the word for practice sparring was the same word used for actual dancing.

Ridahne was quick to understand the implications of everything Darin said. There was no telling when the task would be accomplished, and no telling how far they had to travel in order to see it done. And, Ridahne knew, that would mean going back home. That was a small hitch, but not anything that couldn't be dealt with. But what made her stop and look up at the woman, studying her carefully with those piercing eyes was her insistence that she not treat her differently. Ridahne examined her for a long, long time without saying much. Just looking. Watching. Thinking.

"I unnerved you with the 'Ri'atal' thing, didn't I?" Her tone was uncharacteristically soft, understanding. It seemed incongruous that someone so fierce, so prickly and aloof could be so gentle and sympathetic and yet she was. "I have no illusions that you are...any more than you seem. You're a farmer. You desperately need riding lessons--and, by the way, I think it's good Talbot is coming. He will serve you well, and Tsura could not carry us both for long. You can't defend yourself all that well and we both know you need to. You're inexperienced in a lot of ways, Martin, and this world is too cruel and it will consume you if you aren't careful. We have work to do. But that doesn't negate what you are. You can avoid it all you like, downplay it all you want. But it doesn't change the fact. And that fact doesn't make you a great warrior or a skilled ranger. It doesn't make you intelligent either. If it did, you wouldn't need someone like me. I wouldn't have been sent here at all. But I assume you were not randomly chosen. You didn't find it on the roadside, it was given to you. Specifically you. And that isn't nothing. Understand that Ri'atal," she said, using the term as something of a code, "and the naive farmer you are are not different things. You are both. The fact remains that there is a job to be done and you are responsible for seeing it done. Not me, not anyone else. You." She poked one long, slim finger into her sternum gently. That gesture might have been seen as forward or aggressive in these parts, but commonplace where she was from. "I am only here to aid you where I can."

Ridahne took a moment, gathering her own thoughts while letting her words sink in. Finally she looked away, staring at some point on the opposite wall. "I understand the risks and implications. Realize that I have nowhere to be and not much to return to when this is over, so I'm in no rush. I only want to fulfill my own purpose and give worth to a hundred years of empty deeds and mistakes. I'm not entirely welcome in Azurei...If you take me with you, I will tell you what brought me here." She looked down, growing quiet. "You have a right to know but...just...I ask that you give me time. It's not something I want to speak of. But know only that I traded one wrongdoing for a greater good. That said..." she sighed. "Azurei does not see it that way. Especially those that don't know the full story. If--when we go, people will know what I've done just by looking at me." She tapped the most recent tattoo on her face. But the Sol, our 'queen and princesses', they know everything. They know my purpose and yours. We would have to seek audience to explain and I would need to gain a temporary leave to travel Azurei without being harassed. That won't mean people will treat me well, but I won't be challenged to a duel or assassinated in the street." she smirked, though it didn't sound like she was joking. "I have connections in the Sol's palace. He--" she swallowed hard. "They can escort us safely until I am given amnesty."

That would be a hard trip, bittersweet, but she would do it when the time came. This task was all she had left and nothing would stand in her way once she had determined to go.