[I]Ajoran looked good in the Taja sash. His whole uniform made him look rather handsome, Ridahne thought, though she refused to look at him now. For the last two hours, she'd been looking everywhere but at him. Currently, she'd been studying a shaft of moonlight that cut across her cell wall. "Why did you come?" Her voice echoed through the red stone halls even though she spoke softly. Ajoran sighed. "I didn't want you to do this alone, Ridahne." "You should have. You are a Taja, one of the few guardians of the Sota-Sol herself. A place of honor. Your place is not with me." Ajoran shook his head, a tiny, sad smile touching his lips. "I knew you'd say that." Silence. The two were normally very comfortable, if not pleased with communal silence between them but tonight was different. The silence made Ridahne think of the other times they had sat quietly together, and that hurt more than even her impending death. She refused to break down for anyone to see. She would die tomorrow. But she would go with her head high. "Do you regret it?" Ajoran asked. Ridahne sighed heavily and let her head roll upon her shoulders so that she now stared at the wall beside her. "No." Her tone was resolute. Hard. Unmoving. Ajoran said nothing for a moment, just drank in the sight of her. Blessed Tree, she was stubborn. She was fire and she was stone. And he loved her for it. He wanted to tell her that in his heart of hearts, he thought she'd done the right thing, but he couldn't. Not as a Taja. Another slow, sad smile. "Knew you'd say that too."[/I] -- That night had completely changed the trajectory of her life. It had literally saved it. Whether or not she deserved to be saved, Ridahne felt that was up for debate. But she was nonetheless, all because of a stupid vision. A vision she was growing to hate with every passing day. Maybe it was a false one--such things had happened before. Except...it felt so real. There in that dark cell, and even in front of each of the Sol, in front of Ajoran, Ridahne was absolutely certain it was real. But now... Some reasonable part of her tried to explain to herself that it was just her anger getting the better of her. Of course it was real, she was just frustrated that fulfilling the vision was taking so long. She'd known about the existence of a Seed even before there appeared to be one--or at least before the rumors started. That had to be worth something. And yet, she'd been traveling for four months in search of [I]some girl[/I] in the wild who needed her help. No name to go by, not even a region. The girl could be a siren, an elf, or a human for all she knew, though she had learned from rumor that supposedly the bearer of the Seed was human. Still, they could all be wrong. After all, no one had actually seen her, and that made Ridahne feel like she was chasing a ghost. Perhaps she was never actually meant to find this person at all, and the only reason she was spared from death was so she could live out her long elvish years in bitter seclusion, banished from her home and everything she'd ever loved. [I]REALLY GREAT, ANCESTORS.[/I] She thought bitterly, mentally screaming into the sky. [I]THANKS FOR THAT, THANKS A LOT.[/I] The elf gave a derisive, bitter laugh. "In Greyrock? I doubt it. This phantom I've been searching for has eluded me for four months. And I'm a good tracker, by Azurei standards. For a moment I thought she'd be you. Don't know if you've heard this, but some elves--the Eluri mostly but sometimes the Azurei also--occasionally get [I]blessed[/I]--" she said this with tangible virulence "--with visions. Mine specified I'd find this phantom in the wild, which is why I thought..." Another defeated sigh. "No. She won't be in Greyrock." Ridahne gave her a withering look that clearly read: [I]you left home and you don't know how to ride...?[/I]. And once again a tiny flare of hope blossomed inside her chest. What if she was? Why wouldn't she reveal herself? How was she supposed to convince her she was there to help? Or maybe she just really was a naive farm girl. She'd thought that if she did ever find this person, the clouds would part and a bolt of sunlight would beam down upon them both and reveal their purpose to one another, and she wouldn't have to squeeze the information out of her under threat of an Urala cat's teeth. [I]Just one more cruel dig from fate.[/I] But then she saw her taking a few slow steps back, and Ridahne could see the anxiety on her face. "Look," she said with the tone and expression of someone jaded by years of strife who now saw no reason to dance around the truth. "If I wanted to kill you or rob you, I could have done it three times over by now. I am what southern humans call 'a Ghost of the Sands'. Veerkari'e, in my language, just means female warrior. But humans lost in the desert start to get poetic." She shrugged. "Whatever you call me, I know my way around a blade, so if I'd wanted to, I could have. But I haven't, and I don't intend to, whoever you are." Ridahne thought for a moment before adding, "Even if you were who I thought you were, that's not why I'm here." She said this pointedly, making eye contact with the girl with those striking amber eyes of hers. But she said nothing else on the matter. Ridahne slid one foot out of the stirrup for the girl to use and held out her hand. "By the way, if you want to convince people you are a boy, you'll have to rough up those hands a bit more. The wilderness has done some of the work for you, and some people might not notice, but I can tell you that boy's hands don't look like yours." As she said this, she wiggled her own slender fingers, one of which bore a silver ring. "I'm Ridahne, by the way. Ridahne Torzinei. C'mon. I'll buy you a drink and a hot meal when we get to Greyrock. You look like you could use one and...I did tackle you with a hundred and thirty pound cat." There was a quirk of her lips that was almost a smile. Ridahne was still torn about how she felt about this girl. Good sense, frustration, and a lack of hope made her almost certain this was not Astra's new Gardener, but some irritating gut feeling made her unwilling to give up just yet. Only now that she'd exhausted her 'blunt' card, she had to play the long game.