"Oh you do have one? Well c'mon then, let's see it." Ridahne twisted around in the saddle, craning her head back to face her current traveling companion. She knew that even if it was the best human-made knife in all of Astra, it wouldn't compare to the ones she carried. Elf blades were legendary for their light weight and ability to hold an edge without being brittle. For true weapons and not just knives of utility, the steel was folded repeatedly, adding layers of high-carbon steel until the surface of the metal showed dark lines that ran through the blade like markings on a topographical map. 

Ajoran had made hers. All three of them. The Teleisun family had historically been bladesmiths for as long as anyone could recall, and Ajoran had taken up the craft in his younger years. He was a soldier now. A high guard of the tribe's matriarch, and for a man, there was no greater honor. But in his days as a smith, he made beautiful blades. When she was still a child by her people's standards, a mere twenty summers, she'd commissioned a sword from him not just because she knew he was good, but because she'd always sort of liked him. And he, her. He crafted it with her in mind and poured each of his feelings about her into that blade. It was a work of living poetry. The knives, he made her some ten years later and they, too were his love letters to her. Those three blades and the carved carnelian pendant she wore around her neck were the only pieces of him she still had left. 

Darin asked her who she was looking for, and specifically if she was an elf princess. Ridahne laughed. It was not a mocking sort aimed at the ill-informed, but instead it was again the derisive, hardened laughter of someone who'd long ago lost hope and given way to bitter toil and despair. "No, no elf princesses. At least, not by your definition of 'princess'. In Azurei at least, we have the Sota-Sol--what you might call a queen. She is the absolute ruler of our tribe. And below her are four lesser Sol that oversee their own province, but they answer to the Sota-Sol. Perhaps you can call them princesses, but unlike human royalty, they are not born into the position, they are chosen and groomed over the course of about a hundred years before they are ready to replace their mentor. That's not the case in Eluri and Orosi, they have different systems." 

She gave another dark chuckle to herself, shaking her head a bit. "No. She is not Azurei, or even elvish. Rumor has it she's human but that could be speculation. She's a siren, for all I know." She threw up her hands in exasperation. "But you won't believe me if I tell you who she is. Or who she's supposed to be. Maybe you would, I don't know." Her voice was level and the volume was appropriate for speaking to someone directly behind her, but something in it showed her deep-rooted frustration. 

For a while, it seemed like she wouldn't offer anything else on the subject. She was quiet, stony even as she guided the horse through the thick forest. But then, after a painful silence, she spoke softly. 

"I was supposed to be executed. A disgraced traitor. And the night before I had this stupid vision. I saw the tree and how bad it looked, and a glimpse of what could be if it were to fall. And though we haven't seen it for ages, my people still remember the bitterness of war... but then a voice said to me, said these exact words, 'You will come upon her in the wild. She has The Seed. And she will need your help. Redeem yourself, Child of the Night Sky, and save the land you love.' And suddenly I went from being eight hours from death to being Azurei's secret symbol of hope or something. And at the very hour I was supposed to be beheaded, I was sent home with all speed to collect my horse, my things, and my hunting cat, and was sent on my way with all the blessings of all five Sol. And so for FOUR MONTHS I have been puttering around every overgrown corner of Astra, still publicly marked as a traitor for all my people to see," she gestured to her tattooed face, "and yet set out on a hopeless quest that's supposed to make up for my excuse of a life while conveniently taking me away from everything and everyone I've ever loved. Azurei's living embarrassment, swept under the rug for the world to forget! And for a moment I thought you...I thought maybe you could be her and I got one last cruel surge of hope but that too seems to be fruitless. Like everything else." 

Ridahne took a few breaths, realizing as if for the first time that she'd been ranting. Her anger had been evident the whole time, and now that she was done speaking she didn't know what to do with that anger anymore. She wanted to break something, hack something, but nothing was convenient. So instead she looked up to the sky and said, [I]"Ir khalei des'iale na a'aevir!"[/I] Though it wasn't apparent what exactly she said, it had the feel of curses and bitter words. 

Another few breaths, and she forced herself to gain control. "I don't know why I told you all that." She waved a dismissive hand. "Sorry for unloading my sob story on you, I'm just..." She sighed after spending a significant amount of time searching for the right word. "I'm just very lost." Her voice was soft, low, and whatever fire had flared up a moment ago seemed to have been burned out and quenched.