[i]Ajoran lingered in the shadows, hesitating. “I can’t , Ridahne. Can’t you just go?”
“I’m sorry Ajoran. You have to do this. It’s the best hope you have at staying out of this. Please. If you won’t do it for yourself then do it for me.”
He didn't want to, but he knew she was right. If they even suspected that he was in any way involved, he might end up dead too. He sighed, steeling himself, then cried, “Here! I have the traitor! I have her!” Two Taja and an Eija swarmed In immediately and Ridahne allowed herself to be bound and carried away into the cold stone of the palace, where she was thrown roughly at the feet of the Sota-Sol and the four remaining Sols. They all were seated in thrones, one higher than the rest where the Sota-Sol sat. The one directly to her left was empty. Amaiera, the queen of Azurei, rose slowly, her elegant white and blue robes rippling like falling water. She recognized the woman kneeling before her, though she did not know all the names of all the Eija. “The Atakharan girl? She belonged to Khaltira, did she not?”
The other Sols nodded, and Ailinde added, “She is called Torzinei. Ridahne. She and my Taja Ajoran have courted for years.” They were all irate, though they did not expect to see the likes of Ridahne there before them. She was one of their number, a trusted servant. Ailinde looked to Ajoran, one of her Taja, her personal guards. She liked him, he was good at his job and had an easy temperament. But if he was involved... "Did you have a hand in this, Taja Ajoran?"
"No, Sol," he answered quickly.
"Did you know of her plans?"
"No, Sol. Not until after they were--" he was about to say executed, but then realized the double meaning that had and the word choked in his throat. The thought of it all was horrible. But deep down Ajoran knew. Ridahne had confided to him in tears her realization that Khaltira-Sol had been lying to her to destroy people that offended her yet did not deserve death. He had even tried to come up with a way to deal with the problem, though in the end he knew that his word against a Sol's meant very little.

Amaiera looked between the young Taja, who stood tall at attention before his matriarchs, and the prisoner. “And you believe she is a murderer?”
Ajoran swallowed and tried to look at Ridahne, at the woman he loved, but she would not meet his eye. She only stared at the floor. He knew that expression. Dire focus, like all of Astra depended on her composure, which was like iron. Beautiful iron. “She told me so, Sota-Sol. She came to me tonight and confessed to the murder of Khaltira-Sol. My honor demanded I bring her to justice.” 
Amaiera nodded. “Thank you, loyal servant Taja Ajoran. Your actions tonight are honorable. I know what she once meant to you.” Ajoran did not miss the ‘once’, and it stung. He loved her still, but they could no longer be. It didn't matter anyway. He knew the punishment for regicide. “Ridahne Torzinei, you were one of Khaltira’s Eija?”
Ridahne did not look up from the floor. “Eija-Alihn, Sol.” 
“And you murdered her and her successor. Do you deny these accusations?” 
“You’ll also find the body of my partner, Takhun Venari in the gardens, Sol. I have no apologies to offer you. What I did was wrong, yes. But I’d do it a hundred times over. I did only as I was trained to do. To seek out those who have done great evil and bring them a final justice. I have, Sol. The three of them were responsible for the deaths of innocent people. Death given by Takhun’s and my hand from orders given on false pretenses. Your Sol lied, and your people are dead because of it.  I have brought her justice.  I will make no apology.” 

She had gotten a stir at the mention of Takhun--they did not know about him yet, it seemed. But none so great as the uproar her final statement brought about. There was a great deal of shouting from many sides, save from Ajoran, Ridahne, and Amaiera. At last the Sota-Sol raised her hand and the room fell echoing and silent. Ridahne did not look up from the floor. 

"That is a bold accusation, Torzinei. Explain." Amaiera was seething, barely keeping her rage in check.
Ridahne spoke in a calm, almost flat voice as she continued to look only at the floor. "I sought out Azurei's worst. I brought them to swift justice. That was my duty. Until I learned Khaltira-Sol was fabricating crimes to pin against people who wronged her somehow. Trade agreements, tribute and tax disputes..." 
"You have no proof, Torzinei." 
"Takhun knew it too. We both did." 
"And you murdered him too. Not a point in your favor." 
"Two nights ago, a woman came to Khaltira-Sol," Ridahne began. "She had a baby boy in his first year. She came asking for aid, as her family's shop burned down with her husband inside. He lived, but was grievously injured. They discussed terms and had some kind of disagreement and in the end the woman spoke too boldly, insulting her Sol. She was sent away. Takhun and I were both there and as soon as the woman was gone, she ordered her death. The boy was to be brought to her until the father could come claim him. She claimed the woman murdered her husband. When I questioned her, she struck me and told me to follow orders. I spoke to Takhun and he was determined to see the woman dead. 
'But the charge was a lie,' I said.
'Not my problem,' says he. 
'You will kill an innocent woman, then?' And he shrugged. He was willing to let Khaltira-Sol continue. I was not, Sol.  So I did what I was trained to do and I executed a criminal, Sol."

The chamber was silent. The silence bounced off the stone walls until it became solid, until it slammed into each one of them with the force of a great wind. Then Amaiera lifted her chin and said coldly, "Bring the ink." Ridahne's stomach churned. She had known this would come, yet seeing the bowl of black ink and the bone needle brought to her on a silver tray made even her iron resolve quail. Silent tears streaked her cheeks. She was about to die, yes, but this final shame would follow her even after death. "Condemned," Amaiera said in a tone that spoke of ritual. "You have the right to either a master artist, or to mark your ojih yourself. Which do you choose?"
Ridahne took a breath, tasting salt as the tears fell over her lips. Her cheeks burned. "It will be done by my own hand, Sol." 
"Very well." 

Ridahne was brought a mirror, and despite her shame and disgrace, a young serving boy knelt and held it for her as if he were assisting the Sota-Sol herself, for the marking of the ojih was a sacred ritual. She prepared the materials and took a good look at her face as it was, for it would never be that way again, and tearfully said, "Ai jane'ta jane'ta. What's done is done." 

Slowly, Ridahne began. 

[/i]


Something woke her. She didn't recall falling asleep but she had and the fire now burned low in dark embers. She was cold and wrapped her cloak tighter around her, pulling up the hood. She had an uneasy feeling, but whether it was from her dream or something else she couldn't--

A distant voice, male, made her sit bolt upright. She listened for a moment, realizing there were multiple, and kicked out what was left of the fire. She had no way to confirm it but she guessed those were highwaymen. Darin. Where was Darin? A sudden panic filled her, made her move in the direction the girl had gone. She was an excellent tracker in the sands but in the forest? She knew some things. Focus. Ridahne moved swiftly but with absolute stealth, something she was extremely good at. Elves were naturally disposed to stealth, but she had been trained specifically for it. 

Ridahne searched, all the while keeping an ear out for the nearby highwaymen. It did not appear that they had noticed anything yet. She eventually came upon Mitaja first, who sat in the shadows not far from Talbot.

"Darin..." Ridahne whispered. There was no way to mistake who it was--her accent was distinct enough. Ridahne couldn't express the relief she felt at seeing her alone with the animals and not under scrutiny of highwaymen. Ridahne herself looked otherworldly and ethereal as she stood crouched with her black cloak about her. She would have melted into the darkness completely if it were not for an errant moonbeam that caught her from behind and have her a faint silvery silhouette. There was no questioning how she had gained her reputation as a 'Ghost of the Sands', for she appeared almost incorporeal in the darkness. 

The elf shadow moved closer, her feet barely making a sound on the soft forest floor. "Bandits," she whispered, barely above a breath. "Stay quiet, we might avoid them."