[I]Ridahne's father tightened the grip of his hand on her small shoulder--a reassuring gesture for both himself and his daughter.  He was unsure of all this, Ridahne could tell by his silence. Jaisih was a quiet man and she was used to this, but he was not usually so stony about it. But he smiled at her and tried his best to make her feel supported, and that little semi-forced gesture meant more than it said to Ridahne. Her father loved her dearly, and he did support her and believe in her--no one better. But he was out of his element here, and even Ridahne could see he longed for the company of his wife to help guide him. She wished Ikali were with them, too. 

"Are you sure this is what you want, Ridahne?"
"Yes, Jaisih, more than anything." Despite the knots in her own stomach, she was beaming.
He gave her a hug. "Ah, my sweet Isfahan. You'll do great. You know...I heard Master Teleisun has a son...about your age. He's a smith. He'll...probably make your blades when you're awarded the honor. You...should...go and say hello. You know, be friends."
She squinted at him. "What are you getting at, Jaisih?" 
He smiled and held up his hands innocently. "Nothing, nothing. C'mon. Your master is expecting you." 

The two entered the small home, where a large, brawny man wearing a loose white shirt, and Ridahne's master stood. She bowed to them both. "Master Teleisun, thank you for allowing me into your home. I am honored." 
"Glad to have you. I understand you are going to begin your training to be an eija, yes?" 
"Yes, Master." 
"Jaheil will do. Now, today we'll be testing your aptitude for certain weapons, and find one that suits you. It will help your master know how to train you, and when you've earned it, one will be made special for you. Would you like to see the smithy, have a look around?"

Ridahne nodded, and the four of them went out back to the covered shelter that served as the smithy. There were tongs and hammers and oddly shaped blocks of metal, grindstones, large barrels of water, a stack of wood to fuel the forge, and a large rack holding several weapons. There was a shortsword, a longer one, a scimitar, a collection of little daggers, and slim throwing knives. Ridahne admired them all for a moment before a tapping sound caught her attention. She turned and saw a boy, about her age, sitting at a sturdy workbench fitting a chunk of wood to the hilt of a blade for later refinement. The blade itself was wide at the end and narrowed in a sweeping curve where it bent slightly, like a boomerang, towards the back. The boy holding it wasn't too bad to look at either. His hands were nearly black with soot or coal, and she found she liked watching them nimbly work the little piece of wood. She eyed her master, who's head tilted in the tiniest encouraging nod, and then approached the boy.

"Hello. What are you working on? What is that?"
He looked up at her; she could see his eyes scanning her scant ojih, and then they met hers. His were so dark, and hers were like the heart of a fire. He cleared his throat a little. "This is called a khukri. It's uh, it's not finished though. And it's only my second one so it's not my best work but--"
"Can I see it?" He nodded, took a nearby rag to wipe the thing down (along with his hands) and then handed it to her. She admired the weight of it, the way it felt in her hands. It was heavier than she expected. She liked that. She couldn't begin to see any flaws in it; clearly this boy had been practicing his skills for a long time.

Jaheil came over with an appraising look at Ridahne. Knowing the answer already he asked, "Do you want to see any of the other blades?"
"No sir--uh, Jaheil. I mean, thank you, but...I really like this one. I like how heavy it is, but it's not that big. And it's...I don't know. Pretty. I like the curves."
Jaheil scratched his beard, and a little gleam came into his eye. "Yes, the weight is part of how it's useful. Ajoran..." The boy snapped to sudden attention, as if he had not expected to be called upon and was unprepared. "Why don't you show Ridahne how to use it?"
Ajoran beamed. Any chance to take a break from his work to go recklessly hack at some logs was worth taking. "Alright! This one's not finished, let me grab the last one I made and we can use that." 

Rain came down in a sudden torrent. But, Ridahne noticed as she looked up, the rain seemed to be coming through the roof. Not leaking...coming through. No one else seemed to notice. Alarmed, she looked down to see not only that puddles were forming, but she was taller. Older. Bleeding. Ridahne cried out, surprised and confused, then ran outside to see if the rain was real. It was. And kneeling in a patch of mud oddly placed in a whole area of sand was a soaked Darin. 

"Darin! What are you...?" Ridahne gasped. The human girl lifted her hands, and with a motion like she was hoisting a stone over her head, she made the sheets of pelting rain just...stop...[/I]


--

A noise disturbed Ridahne from her long sleep. She cracked her eyes open and realized it was really raining outside, though this roof seemed to do its job in keeping the water out of the hut. She turned her head and saw a very pitiable looking Darin sort of fold rather than kneel nearby. Ridahne gasped sharply, growled her painful regret, and finally spat out, "Darin! What happened to you? Ai, you look like you might pass out at any moment!" She leaned over and put a warm, slender hand on Darin's brow to find that it was cold and a little clammy. "Damn. Don't move, I'm going to help you."

Ridahne pushed herself upright and tossed her blanket over Darin. The elf was a torn up mess, but she forced herself laboriously to her feet, favoring her wounded leg. If Darin had any ideas about protesting, Ridahne wouldn't have it. Besides, she wanted to get herself moving as soon as she was able. The warrior practically dragged herself over to the kitchen where she found a pitcher of water for them both and half a loaf of bread. She was reluctant to get back down onto the cot, mostly because of the effort it cost her, but Mitaja stood by to brace her. Ridahne poured a cup of water and pushed it into Darin's hand. 

"Drink. You need it." Her voice was still rough; it almost didn't sound like hers. "And eat. I can see your hands, they're a quivering mess." Ridahne waved her hands and instructed Mitaja to go lay next to Darin, though in typical fashion the cat very nearly was laying ON her, sort of half on, half off. And, while she was at it, the cat groomed Darin's hair with her big tongue a few times, just for good measure. Ridahne took a little piece of bread for herself. "What did you do..? I heard you say you bit off more than you could chew...which..I'm assuming is some kind of human idiom for doing too much?" Ridahne tried to hide her own misery; she'd done a bit too much getting up and walking so far so soon, though she knew she'd have to do more of that pretty soon. 

"I assume you were out in the rain...which is funny, because I had a dream that you--well, it was in Azurei, and it was raining inside the building and you were there for some reason, and you lifted up the rain. But," she waved a dismissive hand, "Concussions do strange things to your head. Hearing the rain on the roof probably made me think about it too. Anyway, what happened? Where have you been today?" Her question was not accusatory like a mother clucking over a truant child. More like a feeling of 'what in Astra did you get into?'