Ridahne didn't answer verbally, but she did nod. There was some similarities there, more than she'd considered. But still somehow at their core, they were two different people. Darin was quiet, thoughtful, and pure-hearted. Ridahne was jaded, loud, aggressive...and she did not see her heart as anything near pure. A hundred years of fighting made her...difficult. Fighting with others, fighting with herself, fighting for respect, for truth, for dignity, for pride. Always fighting. And for just a moment she wished bitterly that she could be more like Hadian, who had the back of a duck--everything just kind of rolled off him. Compared to her, he was passive, quiet, introspective, and his life was nothing short of honest. Good clean work with his hands and his back. And she wished so much that she could just be that kind of person. Calm. Passive. But...no. That wasn't who she was. She was a fighter. She was fire and stone, she was the wind in a storm. She was what the Azurei called [I]Isfahan[/I]. Fireheart. A term for those with drive, passion, and ambition. 

[I]"Let that fire run free, Ridahne, and it will consume you. Or, if not you, those around you."
"What you mean is that I need to be quiet. Be obedient. Demure." The young Ridahne crossed her arms across her chest, but her mentor, Talena, snatched her wrist and pulled her close.
"No," she said firmly. "You mistake me. A traveler alone in the forest lights a fire, even though it hasn't rained, and the entire forest could go up in flames because of that fire. But he lights it anyway because if he does not, he might freeze. He might be attacked by hungry wolves in the night. He must cook his food and boil his water. He needs that fire. But he knows it can do great harm if left unchecked. So the traveler places stones around the fire, he keeps it contained, and keeps it focused on its purpose. This is what you must do, Ridahne. You have a fire in you, and that is admirable. But if you let it run wild, your forest will burn. You must find a way to keep it contained and focused. Find a way to make that fire work for you."[/I]

Even as Ravi spoke to her, she could hear the voice of her old mentor as she recalled their two-week trip into the Dust Sea for training. She was very different than Darin, though they shared a similar history. But she had to use that to her advantage. Their advantage. Somehow. She didn't know how exactly, though she knew for a while now that a kind-hearted Seed-Bearer wouldn't make it far without someone to show her how to use her teeth. Their initial meeting was some proof of that, and their encounter with Mark showed that the Seed Bearer needed someone on her side who could fight--in every sense of the word. Ridahne needed to be that person. She WOULD be that person. Somehow.

The elf shivered at Ravi's touch, though she wouldn't look at him directly. In Azurei, the Ojih were sacred and to damage one was unspeakable. As a result, there was a kind of taboo about touching other people's faces. It wasn't completely disallowed among society, but it was not something done lightly. It was not an unpleasant, vulgar sort of moment, but it did feel intimate. Tears were streaking down her face almost uncontrollably by this point. Ravi had cut to the quick. She was not an exile. She was Ridahne. In her head, she repeated this to herself again and again, hoping that if she beat it into her brain a few times, it might actually stick. 

Suddenly Ridahne's steadying grip on Ravi's hands slackened, and her hitched breathing slowed and smoothed as though she were asleep. Her eyes, wide open and still glistening with tears, went suddenly vacant. She slumped forward a little into him as she was pulled into a vision.

[I]An ambient roar that comes and goes in a pulsing pattern. Splashing. Gentle hissing. The crash of waves, yes. Ridahne tasted salt. Wind scrambled her hair into her face but she made no move to brush it aside. Someone else did. An old (by elf standards) man with a crisp ojih and even crisper wrinkles. His face is grim and stern looking when he contemplates the undulating of the sea, but when he turns and looks at her, his smile is easy and soft. He is a study in contrast. Though the face has changed, she knows those eyes without a doubt. 

Ajoran.

She takes his hand; her skin is just as wrinkled as his face, lined with centuries of hard use. They speak no words, but he leans over slowly to kiss her forehead, where she bears not just the mark of her betrayal, but the mark of her redemption. They lay back and enjoy the heat of the sun in pleasant silence. 

Back a few hundred years. She is young again, in the flower of womanhood, yet her body feels less whole than when she was elderly. It feels broken. It is dark. Breathing hurts and her voice nearly does not work but she mouths a simple Azurei song she learned as a child about a man who falls in love with the spirit of the sea. [/I]

Ridahne was still murmuring this song softly into Ravi's chest when she came to. Blinking, she took a moment to ground herself in the present. She did not need to explain to him what had happened--he knew all too well, as he'd likely had countless visions before and knew what they were like.  She was glad. She didn't feel like explaining. After a few breaths, she wiped her face clear of tears and stood, brushing the dirt off her knees. She wanted to tell him what she saw, but she needed a moment to process it for a bit before she trusted herself to speak. 

"Darin was given the seed three months ago. I had my vision four months ago, and I have spent those four months without much direction or hope in succeeding. Even now that I have found her, I have not had much hope in what lies beyond this quest. It has been so, so long since I have had any hope at all. But...I have seen it. There is hope for Astra. There is hope for me. I know visions are possible futures, not certain ones. But..." For the first time, she turned and gave the faintest, tiniest, barest ghost of a smile and it was not tainted by derision or bitterness. "They are generally likely futures." She allowed herself to enjoy that thought for a moment, to hold it close like a talisman, before she frowned slightly and said, "I saw something...else. But I can't make sense of it. I have to think on it." Ridahne bowed low. "If you are finished with me, Ravi, I would like some time to myself. I have much to think about." It was then that she felt a familiar warmth press into her hand; Mitaja was purring beside her and leaning heavy on her leg. Ridahne obliged and stroked her silky fur. 

Ridahne spoke in Aurian softly. [I]"I thought I told you to stay with Darin?"[/I] The cat made a chittering sound and curled her tail around Ridahne's knee. The elf looked up and glanced around, and in the distance she could see a lone figure on a magnificent brown horse. Her heart sank a little. Ah, so she'd seen. Darin had seen her on the ground in vulnerable, feeble collapse, and that made her cheeks burn in embarrassment. She did not like others to see her in moments of vulnerability or weakness. Especially not her. She felt like she had to be a kind of anchor, a steady, strong rock which Darin could lean against if she had to. And in that moment she'd been anything but. Sighing, and with Mitaja close by her side, Ridahne made her slow way back to the farmhouse. 

She didn't speak to anyone as she entered, slipping past the bustling people in well-trained silence and stealth. She could not go unnoticed, not here where she was very much a stranger in a tight community, but she could go without incident and without eye contact. Ridahne grabbed a wooden cup full of clear, cool water and, holding it in her teeth, she scaled the roof and perched against the chimney where she could feel the wind and breathe in the sweet smell of hearth smoke. And she contemplated life in silence where she could have a moment to be alone.