Ridahne confused Darin. The human was pretty positive that the elf didn’t want to talk about what she had done before her exile. Now she seemed perfectly willing. Darin examined her posture. The warrior was tense. Darin had only seen people that tense when they were called before the elders and felt guilty. Darin knew she looked that tense right before harvest every year. The Elf’s words and actions didn’t match. Darin wasn’t sure she wanted to call Ridahne on it. They had just got done with a fight and she was disinclined to start another one so soon. She didn’t like the implication that she didn’t really want to hear what the Elf had to say, but for now she would let it go.

Darin shook her head and waved her hand at the Elf, “Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have snapped at you, and I shouldn’t have pressed you when you clearly aren’t ready.” She moved to look at Talbot, “Besides. We need to go. I want to get to The Tree as soon as possible.”

Talbot nodded in agreement and Darin smiled. She took the sickle and pack form the horse. The pack went on her back. The handle of her weapon went between her teeth as she moved to collect the fallen apples. She handed one to Talbot and tossed another one at Ridahne. She wasn’t going to try feeding the Elf’s horse without permission, but she would gladly share. Soon all the apples were safely in her cloak. She figured that now would be a good time to get mounted. She looked at the collection of apples and realized she wasn’t getting on the back of Talbot with her arms full. She sheepishly held the bundle out to the Elf.

She removed the sickle from her mouth, “I got breakfast. Can you hold them while I get on Talbot?” She mentioned, “Your horse can have one if they want. You can have more if you want. I got enough to share.”

It would be just her luck if the Elf said to in order to prove a point or something. Darin picked as many as she did as sort of a peace offering. If she had been at home, she would have used the apples to make pie. It was the one traditionally feminine thing that she was actually good at. That surprised everyone in the village, but Darin didn’t care. She liked making pie. She had made all the pies for the feast for The Gardener. She hadn’t even had to be asked. That really surprised the elders. That being said they weren’t at home so plain apples would have to do. Though, now that she had to think about it, she didn’t know if Elves even ate apples. Darin figured that at least horses ate apples. So, at least Darin hadn’t completely messed up. Talbot pressed his nose against her shoulder. Absently Darin grabbed another apple and passed it to him. She didn’t even need to look to do it either.

Darin didn't seem inclined to press about the issue and Ridahne looked visibly relieved, releasing the deathgrip she had on her reins. "Yes," she said, "We should get moving. We could be there tomorrow if we are swift." She could practically feel the knots in her stomach untwining. Yes, she had resolved to tell Darin what exactly her job entailed, and all about how it had gone so...wrong. She had decided that the Seed-Bearer had the right to know if she wanted. If it was important to Darin, she would reveal that secret at least. But no part of her wanted to. Her own honor demanded that she present the option to her, but inside the rebellious spirit of hers kicked and screamed and tried to squirm away from the thought. But, darkly, she thought that soon it would come out anyway, no matter how she felt about it. She had never been this close to The Tree in her life and they were getting closer with every step. She had absolutely no idea what the experience would be like for her in particular, but she wasn't looking forward to it.

Maybe that's why it was so hard for her to come clean about her past. It had not generally been something taboo--by the Tree, it was literally tattooed onto her ojih. Everyone back home knew what she was, though not all of them fully understood what she did. And when she had left Azurei, she hadn't thought much of it except that she had her own personal regrets. But the thought of looking Darin in the eye and telling her straight made Ridahne's stomach twist. Maybe it was the Seed. Maybe it was the proximity of the tree since she was closer than she'd ever been. But she felt the guilt so much stronger now. The shame. The regret.

Ridahne reached out and took Darin's things without a word, looking glad to have something to occupy her hands with, even for a moment. Darin got settled on Talbot's back and she passed the items back to her in trade for a bright red fruit that made an odd, almost hollow noise when it struck her palm. Breakfast, apparently. She gave one to Tsura who gleefully snapped it up and chomped it with obvious delight. But Ridahne continued to study it a bit before taking an almost hesitant bite. It was sweet, crisp, but also a little tart, too. And crunchy. "Is this...an apple? That's what it's called?" She had never seen one before, though she had heard of them. "I like it. I have never seen one before. They do not grow in the desert, but we have coconuts near the coast and pomegranates, lemons, limes...though those last two are usually cultivated and not wild. They must be common here?" she looked around her as if trying to spot one in the trees. Ridahne, who grew up a bit poor and also did not know about apple cores, ate the entire thing except the stem. She spit out the seeds, as they were too hard and bitter to eat. She was never one to let food go to waste if she could help it.

They rode on, falling into the dull rhythm of travel. Ridahne looked back at her. "Do you feel...well, how do you feel about seeing the tree? Are you excited? Nervous? I...I have a feeling in my chest, in my stomach whenever I think about it." Tell her what you feel, Ridahne... she thought. She did need to work on being more of an open book with Darin when it didn't involve things that she wanted buried. "I feel dread," she said after a moment's consideration. "I am very nervous. Both to see what state it is in and...I don't know...what the...experience will be like."

Darin nodded, “Yeah. Apples.” She pointed out a few of the trees, “You can see the trees.” She pointed at a couple of other trees, “And that’s an oak. And that’s a pine.” Her brow furrowed, “This is actually a pretty good forest.” She pointed at a few more plants, “Witch hazel, chives, lavender.” She smiled slightly, “There’s a forest like this near my home.” She held out the makeshift bag, “You can have more if you want.”

This was sort of nostalgic. Darin spent many of her childhood in the forest neat her home gathering herbs and wild fruit. That had been a long time ago; before her father decided he had better places to be. She had lost the ability to just wander the forest without a care when she had to take over the farm. She had to do a lot of growing up in a short period of time. Remembering those times always brought a smile to her face. She tried to not let her father’s departure color those memories. That was a difficult thing to do. She wondered if that was the same way for everyone; having a bunch of good memories of a person be tainted by one unforgivable thing. That was sort of a depressing thing to think about.

Darin was jerked form that train of thought as she considered Ridahne’s next question. She had never really given The Tree much thought. There had never been a reason to. It simply was. The elders said The Tree prevented evil from entering Astra, but evil was such a vague concept that Darin didn’t think it counted for things. She was pretty positive that abusing animals counted as evil. Animals were never mean unless they had been taught that so hurting them just seemed wrong. Then again, killing an animal that had lived a full life for food and supplies never seemed wrong to her. She had done it countless times herself. However, war and slavery were not a thing except for in stories so The Tree must have done something. She just wasn’t sure what it was.

Darin spoke carefully, “I’m not sure. I don’t think it’s alive the way people or animals are. It’s certainly more alive than most plants. I don’t know what sort of powers it might have or what it actually does. I don’t think anybody knows. The Gardener probably did, but he died. So, now no one knows.”

Darin found herself feeling apprehensive. She wondered what The Tree would expect of her. A small part of her was concerned that The Tree would judge her and find her lacking. What would happen if The Tree did not approve of The Gardener’s choice? Though that seemed unlikely. Darin knew for a fact that she had a connection to The Seed. It made sense for The Gardener and The Tree to have a similar connection. Darin bit her lip. She was willing to bet that The Tree was dying faster then it had been dying thanks to The Gardener’s passing.

Darin continued her thoughts outloud, “I am hoping to find out why The Tree is dying. It would also be nice to discover where it came from. If I can find out, who planted The Tree, why it was planted, and how it was done, I might be able to figure out where to plant The Seed.” She smiled a shaky smile, “As bad as it seems I don’t really care about The Tree. I have to believe that The Gardener did everything he could to save The Tree. Since it is still dying it can’t be saved. So, I don’t really care to see it except to find out whatever I can that will help me do my job.”

Talbot snorted and shook his head in a fashion vaguely resembling a nod. Darin laughed slightly. It seemed that he agreed with her. She must be getting better at riding because she managed to feel relaxed enough to lean down to feed him another apple. He munched it happily. As far as Darin was concerned apples were a good breakfast anywhere.

Ridahne took another apple, crunching it with satisfaction and shook her head at all the names of plants that Darin was pointing out. The only one she knew of was lavender, which grew in the mountains that bordered Azurei. Some of the Azurei elite took bunches of it and dropped them in barrels of floral, juniper-flavored liquor to infuse, and would drink the concoction on hot afternoons. Ridahne had tried some, both the lavender infused variety and straight up. Actually she had a few times when she was quite a bit younger and had more popularity among the court of the Sols and their various servants. Off duty, they would slip off to their quarters with a jug and pass it around. But as she gained rank among the Eija and became more specialized, she found she was not often invited to these gatherings. People were intimidated by her. And for good reason.

Ridahne smiled. "Well, at least I don't have to teach you too much about woodcraft. You've got that down well, it seems. Did you ever hunt, back home? Or did you trade for meats? There are not many farmers in Azurei, not like there are here. Not much to farm, honestly. But looooots of herdsmen."

Ridahne had not thought about the tree being effectively already dead. It wasn't yet, not technically, but realistically there was no chance of bringing it back. She was right. Why else would the Gardener leave his post and go searching for someone to begin the next generation? The thought churned Ridahne's stomach. It was not new information really, and due to her vision she knew more than most just how bad the Tree really was. But there was something about the finality of it that broke her heart.

"Do you think," she began, her tone thoughtful. "That your seed will grow to be the same as the Great Tree? I don't mean same species, necessarily...but will it...do the same things? Prevent evil in the same way? Or will it change the definitions of evil? Will it be more specific or more general? I don't know if you've given any thought to that. I don't know. Just something I wonder about. I love Azurei. It's harsh edge, its wildness, its untamed sands and high peaks. And I love its people. I just...I want it to continue to be as it is. I don't want to see my people fall into ruin. I...I want to see you succeed, Darin." She shook her head as if trying to rid herself of something. "I don't know why I'm rambling on about this. Maybe it's just nerves or something. I don't know."

Talking about her farm was easy, “I don’t hunt, but most farms have chickens and ducks and things. We had a pig, but then he got fat enough to eat. So, I killed him.” She shrugged, “You learn to use every part of an animal.”

That was true enough. That was one of the reasons why Darin didn’t feel guilty about killing the animals on her farm. Another reason was that she made sure they had a good life before she ended it. Darin knew that her animals didn’t want to die; probably, but she refused to kill for sport. Then again, she didn’t know anyone who killed for sport. She knew that people did. That brought her to Ridahne’s next question.

The truth was she didn’t know anything about what her Tree would be like. She thought it might be an apple tree. Or at least something like an apple tree. It made sense. The Seed resembled an apple seed after all. Darin looked at the core of the apple she had just finished. She pulled out one of the seeds to look at. She had dropped the reins completely, but that didn’t seem to bother Talbot.

She held the seed up to the sky, “Do you know, that if you eat enough apple seeds you go mad?” She dropped her hand to look at the Elf, “I think that it’s the same way with anything. You try to do just one thing over and over it’s bound to drive you crazy.” She furrowed her brow, “I had a point.”

What was her point? Maybe she had started and hoped she would find the finish before she arrived at the finish. She didn’t do that a lot, but it did happen from time to time. She bit her lip as she thought about the question again. She supposed that she couldn’t actually answer it. Ridahne wanted to know if the Tree that grew from The Seed would be different from the current Tree. Darin wasn’t even sure what The Tree did. She had a feeling that what it did was far too vague to be defined properly. That made it difficult to figure out what the differences, if there would be any, would be.

Darin tried again, “The stories say that The Tree prevents evil, and I know it does stop somethings; like war.” She shrugged as she went back to looking at the seeds, she had absently pulled out of the core, “But other than that I don’t know. Evil is such a vague term. We think of evil as something we want to get rid of, but I’m not sure that’s something we actually want to do. At least I don’t want to get rid of something I don’t truly understand. It would be like getting rid of your people just because I don’t fully know everything about them.” She wasn’t entirely comfortable with this conversation, but she wanted to give the best answer she could, “I know Mark meant me harm. I don’t know why, but I do know that I didn’t provoke him. He felt evil, but he was perfectly polite until he started to try and kill us, so I had no fair reason to hate him or be as afraid of him as I was right from the beginning. So, I don’t know why I thought he was evil.” She was trying to be earnest, “I don’t know what evil really is, so I don’t know what The Tree is supposed to stop. So, I don’t know what the new Tree will do; besides protect Astra.” She gave her head a shake, “That doesn’t make any sense at all. Just forgot I said anything.” She tossed the seeds over her shoulder, “I don’t know where I was going with that bit about the apple seeds either.” She let out a laugh, “You can just ignore me when I start talking about philosophy. I never make any sense.”

Except for the fact that Darin thought, that while she didn’t have an answer, she had a point about the apple seeds. Too much of anything was a bad thing. Even good things could consume a person. If you gave away everything you had in an attempt to be charitable soon you were left with nothing. If you did nothing but play you would soon starve. Though if you gave nothing away soon your heart became cold. If you did nothing but work, you became so stressed out you made yourself sick. A small part of Darin wondered if she should even plant The Seed. Maybe it was time to let the so-called evil run free for just a little bit. Darin would, never, ever, ever, ever, ever, her entire life say that out loud. The Seed needed to be planted and war would come. She didn’t truly want that. She just wanted her Mama to be safe.

Ridahne blinked. "We had chickens and goats, and once or twice we had a pig...but once our cat before Mitaja, Rhunin, he ate half the pig before we ever got to slaughtering it." She laughed a little. Rhunin was a rascal, and Mitaja was much more even tempered. "But what is...ducks? Duck? Is it a..." she paused, making a little frustrated noise as the word in this language escaped her. In fact, she didn't know if she ever knew it. "Um, does it have fur or feathers?" She finally asked. Ducks, being chiefly wetland animals, simply didn't exist in the deserts and high peaks of Azurei, and no one had thought to bring them in via the sea.

"In Azurei, we don't always use all of the animal ourselves. Unlike humans, we do not think the liver is good to eat..." She made a face, her tattooed lines distorting and wrinkling with the expression. "But we live in a desert and everything is scarce...especially if you live in Atakhara like I did. We are not wealthy people. So nothing can go to waste. We give these parts to our hunting cats so they can eat too and get a reward for their work."

Ridahne did grow up rather poor, and they had to scrape together everything they could to get by. When she was very young and grew rapidly, she never wore any kind of shoes since she would only outgrow them, and her clothes were very simple and often tattered. Ridahne learned early on to hunt, in addition to the fish her parents brought home. And she and Hadian both were very good at scaling palm trees for coconuts. When she was young, Ridahne did not picture herself sitting in side-rooms of the palace at large tables (less grand than the ones for the court but still opulent) laden with food and drink of all kinds, but somehow she'd ended up there. It was surreal, her first meal there. She'd been so confused, and the others laughed good-naturedly at her inexperience, as they had mostly come from more prosperous regions.

Darin had a point about the Tree. Evil was such a broad, nebulous thing that was so often subject to perspective. Ridahne was living proof of that. If the Tree prevented any and all evil, Ridahne would likely not exist. Then again, she considered, if there was no evil at all to begin with, perhaps she wouldn't have become the person she was now, and done the things that had led her to exile and shame. And was there such a thing as necessary evil? Ridahne personally thought so, as she'd been rather convicted of her decision to commit the crime that led her here. She'd been asked many times if she was sorry. If she regretted what she'd done. She had been brought before the Sols and was expected to grovel, to repent of her deeds. She did not. No, her resolve on that matter was like iron, unbreaking and unmoving. So maybe there was such a thing as greater and lesser evils. But maybe the tree would not see it that way and would condemn her harshly.

She was going to find out soon.

Ridahne nodded. "There was something truly deeply wrong with Mark. I...know something of evil people," she said, though what exactly that meant wasn't abundantly clear. "And he was almost as bad as they come. Something about him made my very spirit want to breathe fire and burn him down just to rid the world of him." She shuddered. "Don't ever ignore your senses on those things. You, I'm sure, have a keener sight in these things than anyone, now." Absently, Ridahne wondered what Darin felt about her. Nothing too horrible since she'd agreed to travel with her, but she hadn't seemed overly enthused by the idea either. "But there are other things about this idea of 'evil' and what it means. It can get very muddy very fast. Lines blur, exceptions are made, seemingly arbitrary lines set. It's confusing. Something I wish I understood more of when I was younger."

They rode on and on but Ridahne didn't feel like they'd really been getting anywhere due to the similarities in the scenery around them. But a quick check of the sky assured her they had made progress. "You know," she began after a lull. "It's going to be...awkward going back home to Azurei, whenever we get there. But to be honest I am excited to show it to you. It is very different than what you know in so many ways, and you may not like it." Ridahne shrugged. "But I love it. I am excited to share it with you. Eluri is different too, but maybe more suited to your tastes. Not as...harsh. And I mean that in every sense," she laughed. "The Eluri are more soft-spoken than the Azurei, and because of their rains they have much more plant and animal life. Is that where you plan to go after the tree? Down south to Eluri, east to Azurei and Orosi, and then north again to Siren coasts?"

Darin hurried to explain, “Ducks are waterfowl. They fly towards good weather. So, they head south right about when the snows start. In fact, that when we know when winter is about to start. All the ducks head off. So, we hurry to finish our winter preparation chores.” She licked her lips, “Some stay.” She smiled at the Elf, “The liver is the best part. At least I think so. And we use their feathers to make pillows and mattresses. The bones make good soup.” She was counting on her fingers, “Every part of the animal.” She leaned over Talbot, “Even every part of Talbot will be used when he can’t work anymore.”

Talbot nodded. It seemed he agreed with her. Of course, they were both farmers, so they lived the same type of life before this adventure began. Even people were useful when they died; at least the village Darin grew up in used people when they died. They weren’t eaten, but they would be buried under farm fields. It was a fairly decent fertilizer. The was a ceremony and everything. Darin knew that the village where she grew up was a little odd in that regards. Most human cities had a cemetery. That seemed like a waste to her. She hoped when she died, she got put in a field to help things grow. That way she was useful. The Gardener have been put in her field.

She flopped on to Talbot’s back, “I don’t think anyone knows what evil is unless it’s staring them in the face. Even then they might be blind or not notice. I especially don’t think children should have to know what evil is. The interaction with Mark changed me. I don’t think it made me evil, but I will always remember it. I’m not sure the change or the memories are a good thing.” She sighed, “Evil is not something I would want anyone to know.”

Talbot must have been tired of Darin not riding properly, because he suddenly broke into a gallop. Darin tried to return to a sitting position. She got about halfway there before she just fell off. She let out a shout of pain. She landed right on her injured shoulder. What was worse was she thought she might have landed on something that tore her stiches. She carefully pulled her shirt up to check her shoulder. Her stitches looked fine so that was one good thing. Darin let out a groan as she laid back down. Talbot came over to circle her. Het let out a snort of what sounded like concern.

Darin reach out to run her hand over his nose, “I’m fine. I just took a tumble.” She used his reins to pull herself back up, “Though I’m starting to think that walking might actually be faster.”

She looked to see it she could figure out where she was. Nope! She still had no idea. It was a good thing that Ridahne was here. Otherwise Darin was sure to get lost. She would still be lost if she hadn’t found the Elf yesterday. Okay, the Elf had found her. Darin was going to be honest about that. There was no point in lying about it anyways; even to herself. Besides. The Elf’s plan was as good as any. It was certainly better than her plan which was to just wander until she got lost again.

She nodded at Ridahne, “That sounds like a great plan; unless I learn something specific at The Tree. But for now, it’s better than my plan. So, we’ll go with it.” She turned to Talbot, “I’m sorry for being a bad rider. May I get back on?”

Talbot nodded, so Darin held on to the reins. Talbot didn’t bend his knees, so it took Darin a few tries. She hoped one day swinging herself on to his back would be easy. She supposed that day would come the same day that riding was easy as well. The human didn’t think she would every be a professional rider, but she could and did hope that she would be good enough that one day falling off wouldn’t be a daily occurrence. That would make a very good start. Though right now she would settle on not making her horse upset with her.

Darin shot her arm out, “Let’s go!”

Then she let out another hiss of pain. It appeared that moving so suddenly after landing on it had been bad for her shoulder. She needed to be more careful. She rather not have to redo the stitches anytime soon. She wanted her shoulder to heal as well as it would possibly heal. She had a feeling it would scare, but as long as she could still use it that would be good enough for her. Talbot took her words to heart and started to gallop again. This time Darin remained sitting up. She smiled when he stopped, and she hadn’t fallen off again. She was doing it! She was pleasantly surprised when she discovered that.

"It's a complicated thing, evil. You're right. Not everyone sees it right away, if ever. I know I didn't." She spoke softly, head down as if in shame. "Justifications are made, excuses given. And people believe them, whether they're true or not. It all sounds so reasonable. And then one day you wake up and realize all this time it was wrong. The reasons are flimsy, or just not good enough to justify the evil. That, or if it didn't start that way, somewhere along the line it went wrong. Slowly. Gradually. But by then it's too late and it's already done." She spoke from experience and she didn't even try to hide it. That, at least, she could talk about. The vague generalities of it, sure. But the specifics? Not yet.

"I don't really know if I truly fully believe that the Tree guards against evil. Not all of it, or even most of it. It's like it defends against the large-scale things of war and slavery. But it doesn't protect anyone from manipulation, from heartbreak, murder, rape, or exploitation. Not really. And I don't know how I feel about that."

Ridahne watched as Talbot suddenly leapt forward, throwing his rider in the process. She gave Tsura his head and let him follow, moving fluidly as the horse halfway reared and then bounded forward into a dead run, ready for some action. He was an intense horse, too much for most people, but then again so was she. She loved his fire. Talbot, while having a steadier temperament, still had a lot of fire of his own, it seemed. Ridahne laughed as she approached. "Seems like he is your new riding teacher, not me. That arm of yours still attached?" She'd have to look at it tonight and make sure there was no start of infection or tearing of the stitching.

All sorted, Darin scrambled back up onto Talbot. Ridahne gave a few pointers here and there but Darin eventually mounted again and, in an almost uncharacteristic display of boldness, she ordered Talbot forward at a run. Ridahne grinned. She would make a rider of Darin yet. Tsura bounded after Talbot, his black mane streaking behind him as Ridahne rode low against his back. Her own black hair streamed behind her in a mirrored imitation of Tsura's mane and tail. She missed the days of running Tsura over the desert sands at night when the air was cool and filled with the sound of chittering insects.

"Ride low and let him move under you!" Ridahne instructed over the scream of wind and the pounding of hooves. She gave a hand signal and though it was foreign to these parts, it was fairly easy to assume it was a positive gesture, perhaps of encouragement or reassurance.

Darin did her best to listen to Ridahne’s instructions. She wasn’t sure she did a good job, but at least she didn’t fall off this time. In fact, she managed to remain upright for the entire day. She and Talbot ate apples when they were hungry. They were always willing to share with Ridahne and her horse. As Darin at the last one she realized that she had lost track of time. The sun was starting to do down, and the whole world was bathed in the orange glow that came with dusk. She twisted to check the position of the sun. She chewed slowly as she considered its setting. As soon as it was below the horizon it would start getting dark quickly.

Darin mentioned this, “We should start looking for a place to make camp. I’m afraid I’m not much use in the dark.”

She didn’t know if Elves could see in the dark or not. She didn’t want to imply that they could. Some stories she heard said they could, but Darin wasn’t sure how many of those stories were true. She never put much stock in them. They were always told by the traders that come to Lively once a year. They never seemed trustworthy. Though Darin never spent much time with them. She very rarely had things to trade with them. Even less rare was when she wanted things from them. Darin had been content with her life for the most part. When her father had still be around, he would always get her at least one sugar sweet. Those had been happy memories that Darin had no desire to relive. She rather look forward.

Darin looked around to see if she could spot a place that would work. In all reality Darin had no idea what she was looking for. When it had just been herself, she had just climbed a tree and hoped she didn’t get wet. Even that wasn’t really a requirement. She missed the big feather bed she and her mother shared. She couldn’t begin to count the number of ties she had woken up sore since this journey had begun. She was starting to think that would just be her default for a long time to come. Darin spotted several good trees but knew they wouldn’t be good for a group camp. What she had done last night had been stupid. She really shouldn’t get far enough from Ridahne to get lost again. She would like to finish this journey alive if possible.

That lead Darin to a dark thought. What if she died before The Seed got planted? Could she pick someone else to carry it. That might be a possibility if she had time. What if she was slain in battle? What if she fell off a bigger edge and there were no vines to catch her? What if there were more giant spiders? Darin shook her head as she mentally chided herself. There was no point in thinking those types of thoughts. She needed to think positive. She grabbed her waterskin to distract herself. She scowled as she realized that she had finished it without paying attention.

She told her companion, “And I need to fill my waterskin.”

This was something Darin did know. She knew how to tell if water was safe to drink. She was also aware of how to make water safe to drink. She still had her small pot. It may take some time, but she could make enough safe water for everyone to drink; including all the animals. She wasn’t going to mention that though. She was positive Ridahne knew those things as well, and Darin didn’t want to seem like she was trying to show off. In a way she was. She didn’t want to think the Elf thought she was completely incompetent. She knew how to do some things. Darin could keep herself feed, watered, and clean. She could even do the same for Talbot. She was just a clumsy person with not sense of direction and no idea whatsoever about how to fight. She was glad Ridahne was with her. She just didn’t want the Elf to question just how useless she was. It was stupid to be worried about what her companion thought about her, but she was still worried about it. At least it was better than worrying and thinking about dying.

Ridahne had spent most of the ride in decent spirits (for her, anyway--she always seemed a bit aloof and severe, but there were moments when she was less so, more relaxed and talkative). It felt good to make some progress, to put land between her and the whole mess of Greyrock. She liked the feeling of wind rushing at her, pulling at her hair and clothes and Tsura gleefully hammering the ground beneath her. They were a good team, her and Tsura. She had the fortitude to keep him in line and he had the stamina to keep up with her. But as the day drew on and they came closer to their goal, she seemed to darken in demeanor. For one thing, she got quiet and stopped offering riding tips to Darin, or quick comments about the landscape. Ridahne also seemed to be constantly scowling, though if she was ever called on it, she'd very honestly deny it. The expression was slight, but still there. Generally, she looked tense. Fidgeting, glancing around or just staring out at the horizon with a wrinkle in her brow.

They stopped for the night and started to look for a good place to bed down. "I am good in the dark," she said. She was trying to be amiable and casual but despite her efforts she couldn't keep out a slightly clipped note to her voice. "But even amongst my people its considered unwise to try and set up camp in the dark, if it can be helped." Ridahne dismounted, patting Tsura before she gave Darin her own waterskin, which was very large and clearly meant for extended travel. The leather was painted white and blue and a rusty dust-red in a repeating ornamental pattern. "Here. Fill mine too, and I'll find a place and get a fire going." Ridahne forced a smile past her own anxiety. "I better not find you in a ravine again, eh?" She really was just gently teasing her and hoped it didn't come off as stern or condescending. She felt...off tonight.

Ridahne led Tsura just off the road, glad to stretch her legs a bit. After some searching, she found a patch of pines where the ground beneath was clear except for pinecones and fallen needles, which she used to start a fire. It would be warm tonight and there wasn't much need to set up a shelter, so she focused on dinner instead. Anything to keep her focused on a task and not the worries in her mind. They would get to the Tree tomorrow morning and already Ridahne was feeling...different. This was the closest she'd ever been to the Tree itself and whether it was an effect of the Great Tree or just her own demons coming to surface, but she felt a strong sense of guilt.

You should have known better. You should have done better. You're a monster, Ridahne, and the Sol should have put you down when they had the chance. And it isn't just me I ruined but Hadian, who will now always be the brother of the traitor. And you abandoned Ajoran. All because you chose to blindly follow orders. Fool.

It was overwhelming. She had food simmering on the fire and her active attention was no longer needed, so the thoughts of horrible, wretched guilt pounced on her like a predator. Crouched by the fire, Ridahne buried her face in her knees and allowed a few hot tears to escape. No dramatic sobs, no keening, just a few tears and shaky breaths. It felt like ages since she'd thought so much about what she'd done and yet she knew it hadn't been that long. She felt it sharply now.

Ridahne heard Darin return and she forced herself to get up and rub Tsura down with a small brush, trying to sweep over the fact that she had been crying. "I've got dinner cooking. It might be spicier than you're used to, from what I've seen of human fare. But it's not too bad. It's a type of curry. A little taste of home." She kept her face toward Tsura and the brush in her hands, pouring herself into her task.

Darin took the waterskin good naturedly, but the slight smile soon dropped as the Elf joked about falling into ravines. After muttering something about being back soon Darin slipped off of Talbot and went in pursuit of the river. The horse followed and the human found that she was okay with that. Maybe with Talbot with her she wouldn’t get lost as easily. It was worth a shot. Even if she did get lost at least she wouldn’t be alone. Being alone was not the best thing to be right now. Darin had to admit, at least to herself, what she had done last night was pretty dumb. It wouldn’t due for her to get in anymore trouble like what had happened at Greyrock.

It was just that Ridahne was … difficult to travel with. Secrets were a new concept for Darin. With all the gossip in her village they just couldn’t exist. Yet the Elf had at least one that the young girl was fairly positive would impact her journey to find the right place to plant The Seed sooner or later. Then there was the joke about the ravine. Were such jokes common among the Azurei? Darin wasn’t sure she had like the joke about her natural clumsiness and lack of a sense of direction. Darin felt worse about it because she knew, logically, Ridahne hadn’t meant any harm by it. At least Darin didn’t think that the warrior meant any harm by it. That didn’t change the fact that it still hurt. The human focused on not tripping as she tried to let those feelings go. They would serve no purpose. There were bigger things at stake than her hurt feelings.

Darin had reached the small stream while she had been thinking. She quickly determined that the water was safe to drink before submerging Ridahne’s waterskin to fill it. While she did that, she used her other hand to pull out hers. It was the same one she had used while working in the field back home. It was only slightly smaller that the Elf’s though it was clear that they were made by two different types of people. Ridahne’s was painted in the colors Darin had come to recognized as Azurei colors. Hers was simply cured. Once the first one was full Darin switched the two. Next to her Talbot was drinking his fill.

Filling the waterskins did not take as long as she would have liked. Darin found herself standing slowly as she took the reins off of Talbot. He pushed at her and with a small laugh she let herself be moved in the direction of Ridahne. There was a small little camp that Darin approved of. Right before they got there Darin noticed the Elf rapidly move from sitting to brushing her horse. That meant the Elf was hiding something. Darin wasn’t a complete idiot. The Elf had been crying or something similar.

Darin spoke softly as she handed the Elf her waterskin, “Whatever it is, is fine.”

It seemed they were both trying new things today. Darin had no idea what curry was and the smell of it was making her eyes water slightly. The human elected not to mention it though. She didn’t want to cause another fight, and she already felt badly for thinking bad of Ridahne. It was made worse with the knowledge that the Elf had been crying. It shouldn’t have been surprising. Darin missed home terrible, but she had left home on mostly good terms. The Elders were not sad to see her go, but if she ever did make it home, they wouldn’t turn her away. Ridahne had been exiled. She couldn’t go home to open arms ever again. Darin couldn’t even imagine that. She supposed she should try to be nicer to Ridahne. It wasn’t like Darin was the only one suffering.

Darin moved to pull her own horse brush out of her pack. Talbot pushed softly at her hand to hurry her along. Darin turned to the task with a determination that anyone who knew her would recognize. Darin was going to do this job so well that no one would be able to critique it. It wasn’t something Darin had too much practice with. She would brush Heath whenever Rolland lent him to Darin. That wasn’t often enough for Darin to call herself an expert at horse brushing. Until she knew what she was doing, she wasn’t going to take any chances. Talbot seem to be enjoying the attention.

As she worked the girl sand a song without really paying attention to the words. It was as song the people of Darin’s home sang as they finished the day’s tasks and moved into the evening. There was a song for each time of day and Darin couldn’t remember learning any of them. The people of both her village and Lively learned them from such a young age it was like learning to walk. They heard the words over and over until one day the just joined in.

“Come now. The sun sets soon. See the sky is orange and burning red.
Come now. Remember, don’t work until work until you’re dead.
Finish what can be done. Pause the ongoing tasks.
Eat your meal and wash your face. Your outside work is past.
The Tree is watching over you to protect you from the wrong. So, slow on down and rest your mind and sing this little song.
The sun is beyond your sight the moon comes into view.
It’s time to rest. It’s time to learn. I’ll tell you what to do.
Patch that patch and sew that sock; all the tiny things. Find that pin and that shirt and those little things.
Then when that is done, and the stars glow bright.
Tell the world and your family: Rest well and now good night.”

Tsura didn't mind that his rider spent extra time on him. When she was near his front, he frequently tried to shove his nose under her arm, or would hook his long head over her shoulder and pull her towards him. Tsura was spirited and wild, yes, but he was also affectionate to those he trusted. It felt good to have someone, even a horse, want her. Ridahne did not feel worthy tonight. Of the honor she was given by protecting Darin, of the grace she'd been shown by not being immediately executed after all she'd done. She did not feel worthy of love, mercy, or forgiveness. Tsura didn't really care either way and thought she was a fine person. It was more than Ridahne deserved, she thought as she combed his black mane. His light tan coat was smooth and glistened in the firelight after she'd finished with it.

High Treason.

The two words seemed to circle her like an evil halo, battling with the part of her that insisted she had only done as she was brought up to do. They had created her for a purpose, and she had lived out that purpose, only to show them that they did not like what they had created. Callous bastards, how could they do that to her? And yet, how could she do all that she'd done? She'd been so accepting of death because it was only what she deserved.

A noise made her pause for a moment in her combing; Darin softly singing. She didn't know why, but somehow it made her want to burst into tears all over again. She bit down hard on her lip. Get a grip, Ridahne, some part of her demanded. And yet at the same time some other part of her felt like breaking down and weeping openly.

Steadying herself, Ridahne checked on the cook pot and nodded. "Food is ready. Hope you like it. I don't blame you if you don't though, it's very different than what you eat in these parts." Ridahne's face was cast towards the ground, but her voice carried all the subtle expression for her. She was not at peace and was struggling to hold herself together amid warring emotions. She had made the curry far less spicy than she might have if it was just for her, though it still had a gentle burn to it. It still tasted like home.

Ajoran sat himself down across from Ridahne, his movements smooth and controlled while the others danced and caroused. "You look out of place, Imira." It meant 'moon' and she always felt a prickle of heat in her cheeks whenever he called her that. She tried to hide her smile in her cup, but he saw through it. "Are you well?"
"You know me..." she said with a shrug. "I didn't...I'm not used to so much food...in one place. For me." Her first time at one of these feasts, she'd nearly gone wild as she heaped her plate with a look like someone might try and take it from her. The other Eija laughed and said 'slow down Atakhara, you'll choke!' She'd been so sharply embarrassed that she made a point to be reserved when food was on the table, at least around this crowd. She'd grown up poor and had the mentality of 'take it when you can get it', and that was hard to break. She was also often overwhelmed, like she was now.

Ajoran offered a soft smile. "At least have a drink. You could use one, I think. Here, I will have one too. Besides, I have something to tell you." He scooted a little down the low table across the smooth marble floor until he reached a small pitcher of clear juniper liquor with bits of orange peel and lavender buds floating in it. Ajoran snatched two silver glasses, short and wide like tiny bowls and poured them each a measure of the clear liquid. Ridahne took her own little bowl between two fingers and studied his face. Ajoran was practically bursting, so she prodded his chest across the table.

"Well? What is it?"
"It's not public yet, I have to get my marks first. But Ailinde-Sol asked if I would become one of her Taja in training. And I sort of accepted," he said coyly.
Ridahne openly gasped. "That's amazing! Ajoran! How wonderful!" They both grinned and tapped their little drinking bowls against the stone table--the Azurei equivalent of toasting and clinking glasses--and drank a sip. "Have you written home yet?"
"Not yet, I will when it's made public. But I couldn't help it, I had to tell you."
Ridahne grinned. "Not to steal your wind, but I have some exciting news as well!"
He leaned forward and she could smell the floral liquor on his breath like a sweet breeze. "Well then out with it!"
"Khaltira-Sol told me she has some special assignments for me and Takhun. She didn't say what yet, but said I had an aptitude for it and would do well. I still don't believe it sometimes--that a poor Atakharan girl like me could end up in the Sol's court at all, much less doing special tasks!" It was Ajoran's turn to congratulate her, and the two slapped their little bowls against the table again and drank.

She'd been so naive then. So excited. So eager. And look where that had gotten her...

"I am sorry," she said after a long pause. "I am...not good company tonight. I apologize. I have never been so close to the tree before and...I...have a lot to think about."

Darin was snapped out of her song by Ridahne’s comment about their closeness to The Tree. Now that the human thought about it this was the closest, she had been to it as well. She had a feeling that it was different for the Elf. Ridahne had actually left home before all of this after all. Darin turned to look in the direction she hoped was the direction was home. She was more concerned with the fact that this was the furthest she had ever been from home. Yet again a terrible bout of homesickness over came her. Darin looked over at Talbot. He looked like he was done. He pushed at her affectionately. Darin smiled as she headed towards the fire. The smile fell as she sat down. Ridahne didn’t look good. Darin supposed she should try to help. She just wants sure how. Maybe she could try distracting the Elf. How could she do that? Then Darin had an idea.

She swallowed before she began, “Hey Ridahne? Could you look at my shoulder? I didn’t see anything wrong with it when I fell, but it’s better to be safe rather than sorry.”

The only other thing Darin could think of was stories of home, but she was so not in the mindset to do that. Home wasn’t something Darin wanted to think about even though she thought of it every day. It was always in the back of her mind. She was glad that she hadn’t forgotten home, but she knew that it was distracting her from the job at hand. She thought that might be part of Ridahne’s problem as well. The human would admit that remembering the past was important, but it couldn’t be changed. The best anyone could do was pick themselves up, dust of regret, and keep moving forward. The human didn’t know how to say that though. Hopefully this distraction would work well enough.

Darin continued, “I mean it doesn’t hurt or anything, but it hurts to touch it. I suppose that means I shouldn’t touch it. I mean I’m not touching it on purpose. It hurts when I move it too. I’m having a hard time avoiding that one. I guess it’s not that bad.”

Darin knew she was babbling. She couldn’t seem to stop though. She supposed it was better than having Ridahne wallow in whatever miserable thoughts she was thinking about. Maybe they were miserable. Darin wasn’t sure since she wasn’t a mind reader, but she was positive that they weren’t good thoughts. That was okay. Everybody had not nice thoughts from time to time. Darin didn’t want to stop from her companion from having the bad thoughts. She just wanted to distract the Elf long enough that the bad thoughts would leave her alone for the rest of the night. Somehow Darin didn’t think that would be the case. She could still try.

Darin tugged the sleeve of her shirt down, “I mean you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I guess it’s just a little odd that I don’t have someone fawning over me. Mama never let me alone when I would get injured. Though she tried to stop as I got older. I guess she was trying not to smother me. It was nice though. Even though she didn’t really approve of me running the farm she still took care of me.”

Okay, Darin was shutting up now. That was a little too close to stories about home than she really wanted to get to right now. Then again, would stories about home help? Darin wasn’t sure. On one hand her home was about as far as you could get from Ridahne’s life. On the other it might just remind Ridahne of what she no longer had. Darin would reserve judgement on that case. She looked at the injury. It didn’t look that bad. She didn’t think it was infected and infection was the real worry. It might scar, but that would be the first scar she would get. She had a feeling she would wind up with a lot more before this journey was over. That was honestly the least of Darin’s worries.

”is that what she told you?” The others had been so afraid, so desperate. An Eija-alihn, a hand of death had come into their midst and they all crumbled before her. They all knew why she had come and yet this one, a young man of about ninety, stood calm and firm. He did not raise a weapon against her, for he knew he would die. “Is that what she said to you to make you believe you were doing the right thing? That we were plotting to kill your Sol? It’s Khaltira-Sol, isn’t it?”
“You can sweet talk me all you want, but my task will be done tonight,” Ridahne said coldly.
“So be it. I would expect nothing less than one of her Eija. Tell me, how long have you been an Eija-alihn?”
“Dead men don’t get to ask questions.”
“Did you ever wonder if all she said about the people she sent you to kill were true? How many, do you think, did you strike down because of a lie?”

The night was cool and near silent except for the cicadas buzzing and chattering in the distance. A soft wind blew the curtains smelling sweetly of woodsmoke. Ridahne could hear every one of her own breaths, calm and soft.

“We never plotted to kill her, Eija-alihn. We wanted fair prices for our goods and refused to sell them for less. She was not pleased. So she told you what you wanted to hear. So you would go and see us dead. She tells you a lie and you believe you're doing the right thing. And for all you know, you are. The Tree doesn't prevent your lack of knowledge. So we die.”
“I won’t listen to your lies, dead man.” And Ridahne swung. The man went to the floor, silent except the drip of blood. Her task was finished. And in the quiet night she rode away, disappearing like a ghost. And as she did, one tiny, quiet thought crept into her mind, one that would change the course of her life forever.

What if…?

Ridahne blinked away fresh tears which she wiped away with the back of her hand. Clearing her throat a little, she nodded to Darin and got the salve from her pack. Ridahne looked over the injury with a practiced eye, searching for signs of infection or undue irritation. While Darin rambled, Ridahne only gave a soft "mm," and a nod in reply. She was somewhere else tonight. Ridahne dipped her fingers into the sweet, herbal smelling salve and liberally applied it to Darin's wound and the area around it. "This is made from honey and other things. It keeps infection out. If it keeps bothering you then you should rest your arm in a sling tomorrow. Try not to move it much and it will heal fine." Her voice was tight and clipped, but not exactly terse. Morose was more accurate. Something was eating at her from the inside.

Ridahne sat back, her amber eyes taking on a much more orange glow in the light of the fire. A war was waged behind them. All she wanted was to stop thinking about the past, but something made her. The thoughts and memories and anxieties and regrets boiled in her, threatening to burst any moment. She felt sick. "Darin..." it was almost a whisper. It was a troubling sort of sight, a woman so strong, unflappable, fierce, to be so distraught. So broken. But there she was all the same. "I have to tell you. Something in me...I have to. I don't want to but something in me is going to explode if I don't. I just have to. But when I do, please don't run. Allow me to see you safely to Eluri, and if you wish you can choose a new guardian then, but please, let me see that you are in good hands..." She was so convinced that Darin would want to do away with her the moment Ridahne revealed the truth.

Ridahne took a deep breath, and as she did a small fragment of peace settled on her. Yes, she needed to do this. It would be better when it was over. She just had to do it, to 'pull the arrow out'. "Eija means 'hand'. We do the will of our Sol. We are defenders of order and the law. Enforcers of peace. We protected caravans, guided people through the Dust Sea. That was my work for many years." Another deep breath. She could do this. She had to. "My Sol recruited me for another job. Me and another. To find those who broke serious laws and bring them to justice. I became an Eija-alihn. 'Hand of death'. You asked what I was, what I did before I was exiled. Darin, I was an assassin."

Ridahne broke down into tears with her head in her hands. She did not wail or sob. Just held her breath to keep it from hitching uncontrollably. The normally tall and imposing elf seemed so small then. The words came out like iron ingots, heavy and painful, but they did come. She'd done it. And now that she had, it was like someone opened the floodgates. "They were horrible people. Rapists, murderers. I was told, I...I believed I was doing something good. Justice. And then she asked us to hunt down others and told us all kinds of things about them. Plots to kill her or one of the other Sol or something like that, but at some point I realized she made up things. She lied to us so my partner and I would carry out her will without question. And I...I was supposed to be doing something good. It got so out of hand and I couldn't do it anymore. I was so naive..." And at this point she slipped back into her native Azurian, speaking rapidly in anguish as the tears continued to flow over her inked face.

"I'm sorry...." she said at length. Mitaja trotted up and rather insistently stuck her wide face in Ridahne's, licking away the tears while Ridahne gripped her smooth fur like a lifeline. "I am not deserving of this task. If you cast me away I understand. I will not be angry with you. It's no less than I deserve."

She did feel better for saying it. And some of the roiling torment inside her eased, thought it didn't disappear. Darin deserved to know, and she had the distinct feeling that she would find out tomorrow when they reached the Tree anyway. Perhaps it was better coming from her than from some other source. She thought of her other transgression, the one that earned her exile. Oddly she didn't feel quite so guilty about that one as she did her work. She was a wretch for it, a traitorous snake, yes. But it needed to be done. The deaths of those people...had any of that needed to be done? Maybe some, in her early days, really were awful and deserving of death. But near the end...somehow all that felt worse than her treason. One had earned her favor, the other earned her exile. Yet which was the greater sin...?

So much for distracting Ridahne. Darin sat and listened to the Elf’s confession, was confession the right word, confession seemed like a good word, with a slight air od confusion. When the warrior was done Darin had to process. Her head slowly turned from staring at Ridahne to staring at the fire. That was a lot to take in. Suddenly, Darin’s greatest crime (Stealing a dog from an abusing master) didn’t seem so bad. Darin knew what a murderer was. She had vague ideas of what a rapist was. (One had tried to hide from Lively justice in the village. Lively had sent a messenger bird with news of the crime. Darin had been part of the crowd of fellow farmers that the village elders had rallied to prevent his entrance. He was not given a trial. His body was burned. In both Lively and the village that was a high dishonor. Darin knew she was lucky she had not been the one to find him. The elders had ordered him dead on sight.) Darin knew both were bad, but they both still happened. She couldn’t fault Ridahne for getting rid of them. Though if Darin was understanding it right, that wasn’t all she did. She also killed people after being lied to about what their crimes were. Ridahne had killed innocents because she believed they had committed crimes they hadn’t.

Darin found herself asking, “Tell me. Were you exiled for the innocents? Or for the death of the liar?”

Ridahne had told Darin that she might not want to know what had happen. Darin had a feeling Ridahne was right. Darin also had a terrible feeling that she knew what the answer to her question was. That was the question she didn’t want to answer. So far, the human could understand why the Elf felt guilty. Darin didn’t understand how killing while being deliberately misinformed was one hundred percent the Elf’s fault, but she could see how Ridahne could see it was her fault. In Darin’s head the solution to the delimia was simple. The person in power should be stripped from power, thrown in jail, and maybe executed. Ridahne should probably not be allowed to kill again, and yes, everyone should know what happened. Darin didn’t think that was what happened. She was willing to bet that Ridhane killed the liar and got exiled for treason; never mind that her reasons were right. Evil was not black and white, cut and dry. The human was willing to bet that Ridahne and her people had mistaking honor and loyalty for goodness. Then when Ridahne figured out that wasn’t always the case she had been punished for it.

The entire time Darin was thinking she had been staring at the fire. She didn’t even turn as she asked her question. Her eyes blinked slowly. Against her thigh The Seed burned. It wasn’t the same type of burning as when Darin had faced Mark. That burning had led to terror and a surety of evil. The closest Darin could compare this burning to was fury. Darin was trying very hard not to get angry until her suspicions were confirmed. For all she knew she Ridahne had never killed the liar. She might not have even tried. She might have been sent on this mission because she killed the innocents. Darin only had a part of the story. She needed the rest of the facts. Something, she thought it might be The Seed, told her Ridahne was telling her the truth. Something else, probably the memory of her mother, was telling her that Ridahne wasn’t telling Darin everything. Darin was trying not to let rage over take her until she had all of the facts. It wasn’t easy at all. She had never been angry before; tick off yes, but true rage, no. This was new. It almost scared the young girl. Her arms wrapped around her bent knees, and she gripped her knees tightly. Ridahne was right. She didn’t want confirmation of the answer she already knew.

Ridahne nodded tearfully. “I knew it couldn’t go on. And if I only walked away I would be replaced. It would continue. So I did the only thing I knew. I killed my partner. He and I had known for a while and he didn’t seem to care. I killed Inaeris, the young successor to Khaltira-Sol’s throne, because she was influenced by her and was learning her ways. And I killed Khaltira-Sol, princess of Azurei. I killed my own Sol that I swore oaths to. Oh, Great Tree, I killed them all!” She was struck with a new wave of tears. Doubled over, she did sob then.

“I am what they made me!” She cried in anguish. “They trained me to bring justice and so I did! They trained me to kill, they trained me to do what had to be done! What choice did I have? This wasn’t what I wanted when I became an Eija! I wanted to make something of myself, to do something right for once!” She was shouting now, not at Darin but up at the sky. “I didn’t want it to end up like that! I was supposed to be put to death for what I’d done. I deserved to be put to death. I should have been but I...”

Ridahne cut off, at a loss for words. Instead she clung to Mitaja until she got her breathing under control. She still had no idea why she was here with the Seed Bearer Of all people. It didn’t really make sense and yet there she was. Steadier now, she said softly, “I was supposed to marry Ajoran.” She touched the carnelian necklace around her neck. “But he is a Taja—a great honor. To associate himself with me would be social death and I couldn’t bring him down with me. I made him turn me in. I tried to give this back to him,” she said about the spiral pendant. “He wouldn’t take it. Damn him, he wanted to wait for me to finish this task. He’d do it, too. He would have stood by me at my execution too, even if I demanded he leave. But I can’t...I can’t destroy his career. He’s a good person...I can’t tie him down to my own burning ship. I’m sorry, this isn’t even important I don’t know why I’m telling you any of this. I will see you through to Eluri and you can find someone more worthy of this task there. I will go home.”

The weight of that implication sat among them like a stone giant. Ridahne could not fathom a world in which Darin would still want her by her side, and she didn’t blame her. When she spoke of going home and ultimately her own death, she was coldly resolute. Resigned, but she would go with dignity. The guilt did not overshadow the feeling that in the end, she’d done what needed to be done. Ajoran knew it. Hadian knew it. She was just the only one permitted to say it out loud. Ridahne sagged, feeling like all her emotional and physical energy had been squeezed out of her, but she no longer felt an exploding kind of anxiety and guilt. Just a deep ache for all she had done.

She sat with her legs criss-crossed and her head hung low so a curtain of wavy black hair shadowed her tattooed face. She exuded defeat in body and voice. But even in such utter defeat she held a kind of grace, a dignity that gave her peace. “I am Ridahne Torzinei, breaker of oaths and traitor to my people, murderer of royalty, betrayer of bond and kin, killer of those I swore to protect. I will go. I will accept my fate.”

It made perfect sense to Darin. The killing of innocents needed to stop so Ridahne stopped it by killing those responsible. Darin could see the logic behind that, and though it may have made her naïve she agreed with it. She could even be fair to those who had sentence Ridahne to death. Laws had been broken. Oaths had been betrayed. What was the point of a law if there was no punishment for breaking it? Darin might not have agreed the law was right in this case, but for all she knew the people who had sentenced Ridahne to death didn’t have the full story. Darin could understand that. It all made sense.

Until it didn’t. Darin wasn’t sure she had the full story. She wasn’t exactly sure who Ajoran was, but he was supposed to marry Ridahne. The Elf had said that flat out. It also sounded like he loved her. Not only did he love her, but he loved her enough to wait as long as it took for Ridahne to come home. What little Darin had of the story that made sense. What Darin couldn’t comprehend was that Ridahne had said. It almost sounded like she had left him with no hope that she would be returning to him. If the Elf wasn’t going home to the one person that loved her more than anything, the man it sounded like she loved, did she love him after all? To the young human it almost sounded like the warrior had left her lover the same way Martin had left Talia. That was the part that Darin could not comprehend. She was starting to think she would never get it. She hadn’t gotten it when her father left her mother after all and she didn’t get it now.

However, Darin did not mention that. Instead she let her voice grow cold, “Oath-Breaker. You call yourself Oath-Breaker. Go home and that’s exactly what you’ll be.”

Yeah; Ridahne’s dismissal of her lover confused her, but her desire to go home after being so heartbroken over breaking an oath that seemed stupid to Darin made Darin angry. Did the oaths or promises that the Elf had made to her mean nothing? It probably wasn’t as fancy as the Azurei oaths, but in Darin’s mind they had made promises to each other in Greyrock. The village didn’t have any fancy ceremonies for such promises, but they carried a weight heavier than all the earth.

Darin was surprised at how angry she was, “Go home now, go home when you find me a so call better guardian, and may The Tree take you for evil!”

Heavy words; heavy words that everyone in Astra knew. They were not words taken lightly. They were not words spoken in jest. Even children knew not to say them without extremely good cause. To have The Tree take someone for evil was worse than wishing them dead. It was to have all of Astra turn against you. It was to have your name blotted out of soul and mind. It was to be exiled in a place you could never leave. It was the highest insult and the greatest dishonor. For the Seed-Bearer to say it meant the words may actually be literal instead of figurative the way the they were when most people spoke them. If Ridahne truly chose to break the promises she had given to Darin the moment the Elf figured out who she was the Azurei wouldn’t have time to kill her. The very stone, sky, and sea would take Ridahne Torzinei first.

Darin continued, “You named me Ri'atal--the Hope of Many. You offered me your life and blade. You volunteered to protect and guide me.” She was standing and just about screaming at the still sitting Elf, “Even before you knew me as the Seed-Bearer you offered to teach the misplaced farmgirl how to use her knife. Those are serious promises. I would not break them if I were you!” She forced her voice to be calmer, “You killed to make things right. How many more did you kill to do what was wrong? Can you ever truly make that up by killing alone? Will you really be an oath breaker again?” She practically hissed the next bit, “You ran from your guilt by breaking your promises. You ran from your broken promises by running to death. You ran from death by taking this task. You ran from the man that would stand by you despite anything by leaving him heartbroken. You have run from consequences over and over and over again. You do not get to run this time. You will walk with me Ridahne Torzinei Seed-Chained. You walk with me, Darin Seed-Bearer, until The Seed is planted or until I breath no more and my body lies underground to help grow that which we eat. If you chose not to do so, for any reason besides me releasing you, you will die in the most dishonorable way possible. It will not be a death you choose.”

Darin wasn’t sure where those words had come from except for the fact that every single one of them was true. She had started sitting, but at some point, discovered she was standing to yell at the creature more than five times her age. How did the warrior no so little about life? Consequences could not be avoided. Promises, even rash ones, needed to be kept. Darin’s entire attention was on the Elf she was beyond mad at. She could vaguely feel The Seed burn against her thigh is agreement and support of her words. The human was not aware of the unnatural silence that had fallen over the forest. Every creature that ran was gathered at the base of the trees in a circle around the small campsite. Every creature that flew was perched in the trees above them. Even in the nearby stream every creature that swam was as close to the campsite as possible. Every animal (Expect perhaps Ridhane’s two companions) was staring at the Elf. They knew what Darin was. The stone, the sky, and the sea of Astra knew what she was. The Seed-Bearer was speaking, and Astra was listening.

Ridahne genuinely could not believe her ears. Darin was mistaken. It wasn’t that Ridahne desired to leave her and abandon her quest, no, quite the opposite. Ridahne had only falsely preempted Darin’s reaction to hearing the news. The elf thought for SURE that the moment she knew, Darin would demand that she leave, that she would WANT a new guardian. And she had merely tried to accept this decision with dignity. But she’d been wrong.

She stared at the young woman, mouth open. “You...mean you still....want me?” She shook her head firmly as if shaking aside something heavy or bothersome. She looked visibly relieved. “You mistake me, Darin. I did not mean to say I want to leave I only thought you would send me away. No! If you would have me I would fulfil every promise I made to you. I meant every word and still do. I just thought for sure that you would be angry with me and wouldn’t want to keep me as your guardian. Forgive me! I misunderstood you and your heart. To think that you would still have me after all I have done is an honor. I swear to you I won’t let you down. But you are mistaken about me and my past as well.”

Her gaze, though still sparkling with tears, became hard and resolute. “I did not run. I have never run. I have always done my duty no matter how hard it is, no matter what I would lose. I made the mistake of trusting Khaltira-Sol, yes, but when I knew the truth I stood my ground and did what no one else would. I did not run to death, it was only the price paid for my deeds and i was willing to give it if it meant doing what was right. I paid the ultimate price and I lost EVERYTHING. Never forget that. For the record, I didn’t ask for this journey, I was sent. And I’m still trying to sort out why. But I did not run. And Ajoran....you would not understand. I am not your father,” she said, tone edging on cold. “I did not abandon him. I did not leave him on a cold night with no explanation. We have known each other longer than your parents have been alive. He knows my heart. Better than most. He understands what I had to do. ALL of what I had to do. He knows I put distance between us for his sake. In doing so I kept him from my own sins. And I...I haven’t forsaken him. Not wholly. Like I said. Love is complicated.” She clutched the carnelian spiral. He had carved it himself, thinking of her as he did. The Azurei did not exchange rings like some humans, and instead they exchanged Ali’i, or the large earrings worn in the stretched lobes of their right ears. Based on design and material they conveyed one’s family and region of origin, and for her to remove her bone one and replace it with the carnelian would show publicly that she had become one of his family. Betrothed often wore them as pendants before the ceremony. She felt with a fingernail the individual cut marks where he had shaped the stone. And In that moment she missed him horribly.

Her hard, icy tone dissolved. “As long as he is Taja and I am disgraced, we cannot be. Not by law. There is...some chance that may change because of this quest. But you must understand, this is unprecedented. No one in the history of Azurei has ever murdered their Sol and then the next day been sent off to aid in the most important quest in all of Astra. I very well could be pardoned of my crimes but no one but maybe the Eluri can guess what the implications and specifics of that could be. I don’t even know if I’ll make it back. I can’t have him wither away while he waits for a false hope. We will see what the future holds but until then we cannot be.”

By the Tree, it felt so much easier to have all of that out in the open. She had been carrying that weight in silence for four months and to speak it aloud now was more of a relief than she ever imagined. And Darin still wanted her by her side. Ridahne did her best attempt at a seated bow. “Ri’atal, you have shown me kindness I do not deserve. I am yours. If you want me by your side then I WILL see this through. And I swear by blood and bone and by the Tree itself that only death will keep me from this task. You won’t regret this night I promise you!”

Ridahne meant it. It felt like the night she’d received her vision all over again, with hope bubbling inside her. The guilt and anxiety and wretchedness seemed to fade before it. Ridahne Torzinei, Seed-Chained, guardian of the Seed-Bearer, redeemed daughter of the Night Sky, would at last get the second chance she had so longed for.

Something about her whole demeanor seemed less closed off than before. Her deepest darkest secrets had been unveiled and there was nothing left for her to fear

Darin wasn’t sure she believed most of what came out of Ridahne that time. People could and did lie to others and to themselves. The human had not doubt that the Elf thought she was telling the truth. It may have even been a version of the truth. That didn’t change the fact that to Darin’s, admittedly untrained eyes, that the warrior had been running all her life. Then again, what did Darin know about the world? She had never left home before this after all, and it wasn’t Darin’s job to call out people who may or may not be lying. It was her job to plant The Seed. It wasn’t a job she wanted, but she was going to do it to the best of her ability.

Darin was suddenly exhausted. Anger was not an emotion she had experience with. She had been exasperated, frustrated, slightly ticked off, but never angry before. She wasn’t sure that she liked it. It had drained so much energy out of her. All the human wanted to do was collapse to the ground and sleep. She wasn’t sure that she could do that though. She thought that might ruining the message she was trying to send to Ridahne. She wasn’t even really sure what message she was trying to send, but she was going to send it at best she could. Maybe she just wanted Ridahne to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that she was Seed-Chained. She wanted the Elf to know what that meant. The only problem with that was that Darin wasn’t even sure what that meant.

She had never heard those words until she had said them just now. Thomas had been the first to call Darin Seed-Bearer, and that strange title had made sense. Darin was the person carrying The Seed to where it belonged. The burden of this mission fell on to her. No one else could do it until it was done. She didn’t even want to think about what would happen if she failed. However, she wasn’t sure what being Seed-Chained meant. If Darin had to guess, which she thought she might have to do, being Seed-Chained meant that Ridahne’s fate was tied to The Seed the same way Darin was but not in a good way. Being the Seed-Bearer conveyed a sense of honor. Being Seed-Chained had no honor whatsoever. While Darin might not want it being the Seed-Bearer was a privilege. Being Seed-Chained was a punishment. In this case, it was a punishment foe threatening to leave.

Darin suddenly knew what she wanted to say next, “You don’t get to know my mind. You do not get to assume that I would cast you off. You have no right to assume my thoughts unless I share them with you.” She turned to leave the fire, “I’ll be back. Do not follow.” Then as she reached the edge of the small clearing she turned back, “Oh. And I did not think that you cared about your Azurei law. So that’s not a good excuse for what you did to him.”

The animals at the edge of the campsite scattered as the Seed-Bear came towards them. What had happened here tonight was over. All of Astra could sense that. Darin watched them go with question on her lips that she did not voice. Tonight, had been too much. So, even though it meant she was doing it two nights in a row, Darin was leaving the camp to think. She really hoped this didn’t become a habit. She shouldn’t let it become a habit. She stopped as she got to the stream. Then, without thinking, Darin let out a scream of frustration, anger, and desperation fill the air. She then fell to the ground to sob.

This wasn’t fair! It wasn’t fair at all. She wanted to go home. She wanted her Mama. She didn’t want to be responsible for all of Astra. She had no idea why she was responsible for all of Astra. By The Tree, why did it have to be her? Surely there were better choices out there. She didn’t even know how to make friends with one person that she wanted to make friends with. It didn’t seem like it would be happening anytime soon. She couldn’t even spend a night with the Elf unless she was drunk. Darin wrapped her arms around her knees as she pressed her face to them in order to stop the tears. She wanted her Mama so bad. He Mama might not have to answers, but at least she would be able to help Darin think it though. \

Like the fact that if the human wanted the Elf to not assume to know what she was thinking Darin had to return the favor. Maybe Ridahne had told the truth. Maybe the Elf really was trying to just do her duty. Maybe the warrior was truly afraid of the fact that Darin might not want her. Darin could see that. If the Seed-Bearer didn’t want her the exile would have to go home to be killed. Darin gripped her knees tighter. She didn’t want to be fair. The world wasn’t being fair to her. Why did she have to be fair to Ridahne? She supposed she didn’t have a choice. At least she hadn’t accused the Elf of lying. She could, at the very least, keep her assumptions to herself for now.

Her stomach let out a sound of protest and Darin was reminded of the fact that she had had nothing to eat besides apples all day. That was not a pleasant thing to remember. It was also a chilly night. She should really head back to the camp. Darin just didn’t want to. She was surprised to feel something press against her back. She turned to see Talbot. She let out a watery laugh. At least she wouldn’t freeze to death tonight.

Then she sighed, “Why is this so hard Talbot? I never asked for any of this.”

"Look here," Ridahne said sharply, a sudden fire within her burning away any tears or shame she had left. She stood then, pointing an accusing finger at her young companion. "You can say what you like about my former work. You can say what you like about Khaltira-Sol and what I did to her. But do not for one moment pretend to understand Ajoran and I, and the complicated situation we have found ourselves in." Her tone was low and harsh like a warning growl. "I may not be bound by Azurei law anymore, and though I have broken them I still have respect for them. But remember there are two of us. And Ajoran IS bound by the law, and for it he cares deeply. What's more, if us being together was against the law, who would marry us? You know nothing of Azurei, Darin. And you know nothing of us," she said, meaning her and Ajoran. "Do not scorn me for things you do not understand." She huffed, looking every bit like a dog with bristling fur.

Ridahne would accept being chastised for the things she had done wrong. She would have even accepted if Darin loathed her for them. But Darin knew nothing of the relationship between her and Ajoran, of the decades they had spent together, of the trials they had faced and overcome. She knew nothing of how deeply it pained her to walk away. Darin knew only of her father, who disappeared without an explanation to abandon her mother to struggle and toil on her own. That wasn't what happened between her and Ajoran, not by a mile. She had to go and he let her. And it was the most excruciating, most soul-tearing thing she'd ever had to do. What she'd done for him, she did out of nothing but love. If she could not be prosperous and well, then she would see to it that he was--no matter the cost.

Darin went off into the darkness--again--and left her sitting alone by the fire. Darin was angry with her, and though Ridahne had been expecting that, she had expected it for different reasons. She had come clean about all the horrible things she'd done. She had laid bare the pitiful waste that was her life and had expected to be scorned for it. Darin hadn't said much about what she'd done and instead was angry with her for all the wrong reasons. Ridahne had tried to explain but it didn't seem that Darin understood. Was it a language issue? Ridahne didn't know, but it made one thing abundantly clear: every time Ridahne tried to do the right thing, life came back and bit her for it. Was she always doing the right thing in the wrong way? Did she simply have a terrible sense of what the right thing actually was? Or was fate just cruel to her? Likely the latter, she thought bitterly.

"I would like, for ONCE to just do something RIGHT!" she snarled to the sky and the glittering stars overhead. She scooped up a rock and threw it at a tree; it bounced off and landed in nearby ferns with a soft rustle. But then she deflated and said more softly, "Please, ancestors...let me complete this task. Let it be the one thing I do right in life." And as if in answer, she felt like she needed to start by making Darin didn't get into trouble by herself. Ridahne sighed. Talbot had gone with her and that was good, but if trouble did happen, Talbot would likely stand his ground and stay with her, not come running back to find Ridahne. So the elf looked to her feline companion. "Go follow and keep an eye on her, but keep your distance. Find me if anything goes wrong." The cat trotted off into the night like a shadow, and once more Ridahne was left alone.