Blackfridayrule

The Tree of Astra (LadyAnnaLee and Blackfridayrule)

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 Isfahan. Fireheart. A term for those with drive, passion, and ambition.

"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."

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.

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.

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 thought I told you to stay with Darin?" 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.

The Tree of Astra (LadyAnnaLee and Blackfridayrule)

Ridahne gave Ravi an anguished laugh as she looked up at the bright sky from where she still knelt. But she turned to look up at him, and her honey eyes were on fire. She was a creature of passion, and whatever she felt she felt it deeply. Joy, hate, fear, anger, sorrow. "If I had no sorrow, would I feel sorrow now?" She snorted. "No, I dare say I wouldn't. But it's more than my black deeds that mar my history. My murder of Khaltira-Sol and her successor, and my partner, that is merely the worst thing I have done, second perhaps only to the people who are now dead by my hand for reasons that may or may not have been true. No, my failure goes back farther than that, Ravi. I was supposed to be a fisherman--my entire family has been fishermen for ages. But I got into too much trouble. Fought too much. Drifted off too much. Argued too much. I wanted to be a tattooer, but I wasn't skilled enough. I watched my mother succumb to illness and die. My father drowned at sea. I was sixteen and orphaned, and it showed. I was uncouth, unladylike, uneducated, unwashed, and poor. I was told I would never find a husband because I was too tall, or too loud, or too fiery, or too dirty and ugly, or too unruly. I became an Eija and it was the one thing I ever did right. I was good at it. So I dedicated myself to my training, and you know where that got me? I became an Eija-alihn, a hand of death, and every time I thought I was doing what was right and good, I was really just doing it all wrong. Always wrong. And now I am here with this chance to redeem myself and to help in the saving of Astra, to do the most good and decent thing I will ever do in my entire life, and still somehow I manage to screw that up too, in some small way."

Ridahne hung her head, her fire spent. "And now, instead of being compelled by love and loyalty and purpose, I am bound by sharp command. A slave with some fragment of honor. A willing slave. But a slave all the same, and all because I am a study in bitter inadequacy. No, Ravi. To erase my sorrow would be to erase everything that I am. If I did not have the burdens and cares I do now, I would not be Ridahne Torzinei. I would not be here." There was an odd mix of defeat and defiance in her tone, like she was both lamenting her hand in life and yet she knew with some measure of defiant pride that she was born of strife. And despite her bitter ramblings, she was still determined to come out the other side. Tax had a point. No potential guardian in all of Astra was more motivated to see this through than she.

"As for Darin..." She breathed a long sigh. "We do not understand each other. Every attempt to do so has ended in disaster. I want to. I don't want to be bound to a person who loathes me, and I don't want to resent her. I'd venture to say she wants the same. But neither of us know how to get there, I think. I don't know what she wants from me. Nor do I understand fully why I was chosen to do this task." And then, in a very small voice as though it was hard for her to admit it, she said, "I don't know where to go from here." And she did not mean geographically.

The Tree of Astra (LadyAnnaLee and Blackfridayrule)

It’s Rid-ah-nay Tor-zuh-nay

The Tree of Astra (LadyAnnaLee and Blackfridayrule)

Ridahne followed, giving a polite farewell nod to Tax. It was good to talk to someone who she could really relate to, who understood her language and manner of speech. Someone who didn't completely hate her. The list of those types of people in this world was growing very thin, and she counted Hadian and Ajoran the only two that would stay on that list for certain. Darin perhaps didn't hate her, but there was not yet any kind of love. There might never be, Ridahne told herself. She could not hold her breath waiting for that. Or for anyone. Even if Hadian and Ajoran abandoned her, she wouldn't be surprised. Heartbroken, yes, but not surprised. Not after all she'd done.

They walked in silence for a bit until they were really alone, and then Ravi asked how she'd gotten Seed-Chained. Ridahne didn't know how much he knew already but she didn't doubt that if he wanted to find out all the gritty details of her life, he could. There was no sense in hiding it and besides, now that she had told her story to one stranger, doing it again would be less difficult. "They are one in the same, in a way," she said. And she began by explaining a brief history of her life and how she came to be an Eija, a law keeper, and how she was elevated to Eija'alihn. She told of the corruption of Khaltira-Sol and the moment she knew without a doubt what she had guessed in her heart for some time. And she told him how she decided to fix the problem, of her ordered execution and her vision, and her sudden journey into the wild and brief travels and struggles with Darin.

"We misunderstood each other gravely. I believed beyond any doubt that she would be angry and would cast me out. And who would blame her? I am of little worth to anyone, and my deeds are beyond forgiveness. I deserve nothing more. If she cast me out, if she sent me away, I would be honor bound to return home, seek out the Sota-Sol, and tell her of my failure. My execution would be carried out, and Astra would be rid of me at last. I knew that. And I truly believed that Darin would want to send me away, but I feel in part like she took me on as a guardian in the first place because she knew what my fate would be if she didn't, and she did it out of pity. I thought perhaps she would struggle with condemning me to death, even though she wanted to. So out of a sense of duty, I offered. I offered to see her to safe hands and then leave her alone and go home to meet my fate, and thus allow her to find someone more worthy of the task. She misunderstood me, thinking that I wanted to leave her, that I was running from responsibility. And I had misunderstood her. She did not intend to send me away. Needless to say, she was furious and in that fury named me Seed-Chained--I can only guess at the full meaning of that--and commanded me to stay. She accused me of many things, and not all of them I deserved. Of always running from responsibility, and of abandoning the man I was supposed to one day marry. But if she believes those things then she does not know me. She does not know Us."

By this point, Ridahne was getting riled up again, and something about this Ravi fellow made her feel like she could (and should) pour out her soul to him. Secrets would not avail her now. Hot tears streaked her face. "Once again, I make life difficult for myself. If I had known her intentions, I never would have suggested it. And if she knew anything of mine..." her lip quivered. "If she knew how deeply I only wanted someone to find me worth their effort and time...if she had only said that after all I've done and all that I am, she still wanted me, I would have fallen to my knees and kissed her damn boots but NO! NO! Somehow I am forever cursed to always toil bitterly to do what is right and forever cursed to ALWAYS DO IT WRONG. Somehow, no matter what I do, I am always the one to set my own house on fire!"

She wanted to throw something, or break something, or go for a run, or do something with all this pent up energy but she couldn't. Instead, she fell to her knees and broke down in severely uncharacteristic sobs, clawing at the tilled soil with her slim, calloused hands. She did not wail and was silent except for the occasional sharp intake of breath or sniffle. "You'll not...speak of this t-t-o anyone. N-not if you have any mercy," she snarled between sobs. "It was for y-your ears only, Ravi. Speak of it to n-n-no one. No one but Darin," she pleaded.

The Tree of Astra (LadyAnnaLee and Blackfridayrule)

Tsura, excited by all the commotion, reared slightly and stamped, tossing his head in the sweet breeze. Ridahne was equally as uneasy, that is, until Ravi actually came. For one thing, when the elf came towards Darin, Mitaja did not impede him. Instead, she circled around him, rubbing her face into the back of his knees as if she had rejoined an old friend. That alone was enough to sway Ridahne; in the first years of her hunting training as a girl, the first lesson she was ever taught was to trust her cat. They were better hunters, and their ancestors had the land before any elf ever did. They knew it and its seasons, its winds, its shiftings and groanings and blossomings. And they were good judges of character, too, and were said to have untold senses that none of the three races possessed. But more than that, Ridahne felt, like with Mark, that she knew what this man was about. Unlike Mark, he did not espouse sickly sweet but empty words in the hope of gaining something he wanted. No, this elf's words came from an outpouring of joy and he did not care who heard them. The warrior sheathed her blade and stilled Tsura with a few whispered words, then dismounted and walked to Darin's side.

The elf was no longer bristling with wrath and fury but seemed more at ease. After all, she had guessed that these were good people, though putting a knife to her charge's throat was a serious misstep. She chalked it up to no more than that, though, and no longer held them to blame. And she had no doubts about Ravi. She guessed that he was Eluri--He had to be. He was very obviously not Azurei and the Orosi did not receive visions unless they had mixed parentage. And as he spoke of his vision Ridahne's lips twitched in an only mostly concealed smile when he mentioned Darin had punched a guard in the face. Her little Darin? Punching a man in the face? Ridahne couldn't have been more proud. At some point, she wanted to speak to Ravi of her own vision, as she had longed for the wisdom of an Eluri in the matter but had never had the time to pursue it. For now, she merely bowed slightly. She had no will to argue with being left behind. It was only right, and she knew it.

"Go, Ri'atal. There's nothing to fear from him, if you want my opinion on such matters. I will wait for you." Ridahne spoke a few words in Azurei to Mitaja, instructing her to follow Darin wherever she went, then went and took Tsura's reins.

Ridahne felt like a black stain on this sacred land, and if she was honest, she was eager to get to the farmhouse and be away from so many eyes. Somewhere to hide her own shame. And then, as if fate had one last cruel trick to play on her, Tax stepped up, and she saw he had the dark skin, golden eyes, and inked face of an Azurei. The two looked on each other in silence for a moment, as was the custom. She noted his Ojih was short with only a few basic marks, and she guessed that he had decided to become one of these acolytes of the Tree at a young age. If his resembled a delicately twisting garden vine, then Ridahne's was a patch of briars, tangled, thick, and overlapping. She took a deep breath. It was the first time she had seen one of her own people since she'd left Azurei four months ago. Since she'd...

"Come. This way." He began to lead her towards the farmhouse, and during the trip, they were silent. People came to take Tsura and tend to him, and Ridahne was set in a chair and offered a mug of a pale yellow variety of mead with a delicate flavor. It was not a strong mead and was low in alcohol content, the sort of drink one has daily after a long toil in the fields to refresh the body and ease the heart. She sipped it slowly; it was very very good.

Finally, after an excruciating silence, Ridahne broke it. "Stop staring at me and let's just get right to the point," she growled. "You've heard news of recent events from home, I see."
Her gruffness didn't bother him; they were cut from the same cloth, though they had lived different lives. Tax released a breath and sat back in his own chair. "It was you, then?"
Ridahne closed her eyes and took a long slow breath. "Yes."
"And now you're the guardian of the Seed Bearer," he said with no small measure of amazement--something Ridahne mirrored in her own thoughts too.
"Fate likes irony, it seems."
Tax was clearly struggling to find words or to sort through his feelings on the matter. There was so much to it, he knew. More than could simply be guessed. "I'm going to assume by your association with the Seed Bearer that you aren't the crazed madwoman the rumors make you out to be."

Ridahne laughed. It was a pained laugh, a derisive laugh, a bitter laugh. She wasn't surprised there were stories about her, but somehow knowing it felt like a knife to the heart. She couldn't hold back the single tear that welled up in her eyes and dripped down her inked cheek. "The truth is never so simple, Tax Anaiadi. The truth is no less ugly, no less gruesome, no less painful, but it is never so simple. Those stories will never tell you why. Nor will they tell you all that I sacrificed in the name of justice. There is nothing left for me. Anyone who believes that I brought that on myself out of foolish madness is an even greater fool than I."
"Justice?" He asked. This intrigued him greatly. Being somewhat removed from Azurei for many years, he could look at the situation with a cooler head, and for this Ridahne was grateful. "What happened to you, Eija'alihn, that brought you on this path?"
Ridahne looked hard at him, searching his comparatively unmarked face. "Many ask for truth but do not want it when it's given to them. It's a bitter medicine they no longer want to taste. Do you want it, Anaiadi?"
He nodded gravely. "Yes. I do."
Ridahne sighed, taking a sip of the cool mead before proceeding. "Khaltira-Sol, beloved and honored and wise, was a corrupt, heartless bitch who cared nothing for the lives of her people. She used me as her tool. She trained me to seek justice and to carry it out to its bitter end but somehow thought that didn't apply to her. I am a tool. And I served my purpose." Her voice was low and hard, like a cold mount of unmovable stone.

Tax's dark cheeks flushed red and he looked anywhere but at those fiery eyes. Each breath was measured and controlled in an effort to steady himself. "Torzinei!" he breathed, as though she had just said the most scandalous curse in all of Astra. In Azurei culture, she very nearly had.
Ridahne's palm slammed down the table, rattling her mug, and she rose from her seat. "You asked for the truth! Do not scorn me for giving it! I am tired of being pressed for truth and bound to some shred of honor and yet kicked for doing only what I am asked! Have I not suffered enough!? I will take it no more!" More tears glittered in her eyes but they were like drops of burning sun, aflame with anger and passion.

Tax held up his hand. "Peace, Fireheart," he said softly. "I did ask. You delivered. It is simply a lot to consider. I think..." he said slowly, mastering himself. "I think I understand, at least a little. And if I understand rightly, I pity you and the road fate has put you on."
"I didn't ask for your pity," she snarled, though the volume of her voice did drop and she settled stiffly back into her chair.
At this, Tax smiled bittersweetly. "No, Torzinei. One such as you wouldn't. But still I give it to you. I...assume you will find your way eventually back home? In your travels?" When Ridahne nodded he sighed. "That won't be easy. I doubt the people of home will be so understanding as I. They lack some perspective on the situation as a whole. You are committed to this task?"
"With all that I am."
Tax nodded, satisfied. "Good. Perhaps...perhaps you were chosen for this task because you are broken, Ridahne Torzinei. You who have lost everything. You who have paid the highest price for the least glamorous side of justice and truth. There is nothing now that can be held against you, nothing that can sway you from your duty. You have been disgraced, and this gives you all the more motivation to not fail in your task. Do Azurei proud, Child of the Night Sky. Ni talihn un'derras."

Go forth with blessing.

The words hit Ridahne to her core, and tears unbidden came again to her eyes. But she mastered herself, and a less hostile silence fell upon them. In true Azurei fashion, once the yelling was out of the way, amicable silence came easier. When Darin eventually met up with her, Ridahne had some faint evidence of tears but was now speaking with Tax in their native language, chatting casually of home and of the spaces beyond.

The Tree of Astra (LadyAnnaLee and Blackfridayrule)

Once again a growing fear and dread weighted upon Ridahne with every step. Partly it was because it would be difficult to see the state it was in, knowing what the Tree's demise would mean for all of Astra. But mostly she felt it was because the Tree pressed guilt onto the guilty, shame upon those who had done wicked deeds. And she had. She felt it all now, twisting and rising in a horrible torrent of anxiety, guilt, and fear. Ridahne was silent most of the ride, in part because she had little on her mind she thought needed sharing, and partly because she feared a level of emotional vulnerability if she dared open up the door to expression. She wasn't ready for that at the moment.

Nor was she ready for the sight they found when they crested a small hill and saw the Tree standing tall and regal amidst a sea of cultivated land. The landscape was green and dotted with bits of color according to the kind of crop or plant that grew there. Stalks swayed in the wind, leaves tilted towards the sun, and bees hummed. It wasn't anything like what she'd seen in her vision. The same space of land, perhaps, but it had been different. Ravaged by decay and withered by drought. She had not seen it as it was currently, but what it would be in time. She felt a kind of deep, primal shudder as she beheld the tree even from such a distance. What she saw there was worthy of awe and wonder, and she could feel a kind of power resonate through her very bones as though she and the earth were one.

The sensation left her the moment she registered that Darin had gone sprinting headlong into the field. "Ai! Darin, wait! Darin!" But she was gone, either out of earshot or in such a fey mood that she didn't heed her calling. Ridahne muttered a curse and started to go after her, when she heard with her sharp elven ears the swick of a blade being drawn and saw the steel flash in the sunlight just behind Darin. Few things could jumpstart Ridahne into action quite like that sound. She kicked Tsura with her heels and he charged, leaping forward with a neigh as he plunged down into the valley like an avalanche.

Only a brief moment before the cry went out for Ravi, the workers could see and hear Ridahne charging at them with her bright scimitar held high in the morning sun. She and Tsura were thunder and lightning, and Mitaja by their side was a breath of swift wind. One farmhand tried to block her path, thinking that if he set himself in front of the horse, its rider might check him. She did not. Her will was iron and Tsura was glad to follow; the pair moved in a straight, unbroken line and were not deterred by this one man. He blanched and leapt aside almost at the last moment. Ridahne only checked Tsura when she reached Darin, who was no longer held at knifepoint but was delicately bleeding and still surrounded by an array of people. The elf spoke in her native tongue to Mitaja and at her word, the cat slid silkily to Darin's side, and if anyone tried to approach her, she would move to stand between them. Ridahne, meanwhile, worked a larger perimeter and would squeeze Tsura between Darin and anyone else nearby. She had her blade in hand and ready, though she did not use it wantonly. They had released Darin and that earned them some points in Ridahne's favor, but the blade remained in hand as a warning and a simple reminder: We are not your prey.

"Anyone else touches him without permission and you'll have me to answer to. Keep your distance and we'll have no quarrel," She barked, still circling Tsura around. At this point, she began to hear whispers from some of the workers about someone named Ravi. Ridahne desperately wanted to demand answers about who this was and why these people were hostile, but something in her moved her to stay quiet. This was not her battle but Darin's, and Ridahne was merely there to back her up. The elf would see to her safety, but Darin would need to handle the rest of this situation on her own.

The Tree of Astra (LadyAnnaLee and Blackfridayrule)

Ridahne shook her head. "I did not mean performance that way. I meant you performed your task well. And yes, that includes a little theatrics, but more than that. I think you handled it well. Still..." she sighed, a smile playing at her lips, "I would have liked to leave more than just a scar...but I'm not sure how you do such things in your lands. Either way, they will now have to find themselves clothes and food somehow, and two naked men with cuts across their chests do not get to casually pass through a town without explanation. They will not have so easy a time gambling when they have clearly lost everything they have."

Ridahne laughed about the underwear and shrugged, sheathing her knives behind her back with a practiced skill and grace equal to a highborn lady pouring a cup of tea. "I don't know, burn it, leave it. It wasn't for you but for their shame. But that knife will be good for you. I know you've got one, and you have a sickle, but whoever made that knife at least had some idea of what they were doing. Take it and leave behind your other knife, unless it holds some meaning to you. I suggest you find a way to conceal that one. It is good to have one weapon visible and another secret. The visible one has advantages of intimidation, but if it's ever taken from you, not many will suspect you are still armed. Secrets like those will keep you alive. We can get some leather and sinew and I can teach you how to make a blade harness like mine."

Ridahne lifted her shirt a bit to reveal the worn leather straps that fitted her like her own skin. The leather was smoothed with wear and dark with sweat, but for the most part it moved with her and under loose clothing made her concealed blades (which were not small) quite hidden. She had scars on her torso, too. Two looked like blade marks, and one on her back was wide and blotchy and could not have been made by a blade. "There are other ways too, like hiding them in your boot. But that's an old trick and the harness is an Azurei secret."

Ridahne looked up at the sky and nodded. She hadn't really gotten much in the way of sleep, but she wasn't feeling worse for wear so she didn't mind pressing on. Besides, she was anxious to see the tree, too. It felt like something she had to do and it was best to get it over with. So they packed up camp, mounted up, and rode on at an easy pace. The Tree was not far, and they would reach it in just a couple hours.

The Tree of Astra (LadyAnnaLee and Blackfridayrule)

Ridahne listened and nodded once very slowly, her eyes cold as she still stared at the men. The ruse they were playing at was only half false--Ridahne did want to give Darin the last word. Partly, she wanted to see what kind of person she was, what she would do in that moment under pressure. It would be good for the girl to make some tough choices but also to take responsibility for her new position. The human never wanted it, that much was clear. But Ridahne knew without a doubt that it was her duty to make sure she was one day ready to take it in full. Ridahne was not her mother and would not decide things for her, but she would advise as best she could.

"Good. A just choice. Come! Let me look at you fools." Ridahne threw back her hood; her dark hair streamed out and caught faintly in the dim light from above. Her tattooed marks lined her narrow face gave her a wild, fierce look. And both Dax and James knew in that moment that they beheld death herself. This was no Azurei elf, this was a spirit of death in the flesh. They both shuddered as she drew her second knife from behind her back, and though Darin knew about the blade harness she wore, to the men it seemed like the weapon appeared out of nowhere. She used them to lift their shirts a bit, or to tilt their heads from side to side. They followed her every unspoken command like slaves enthralled.

Ridahne laughed, and the sound of it was cold. "Seems they've done well for themselves as horse thieves. You've got yourself a fine set of clothes here, Martin. Go on boys, take them off." They hesitated only slightly, but slowly peeled off their shirts. When Ridahne did not step away or look appeased, they took their pants off too and were left shivering in their skivvies. A cold smile spread on the elf's lips. "Well. Go on." The men blanched. She couldn't have been serious...but then one look into those eyes and they knew she meant it. Slowly they stripped down until they wore nothing but their skin and made pathetic attempts to cover themselves.

Ridahne finally lowered her blades, but she did not put them away. "Good. Now understand something, Dax and James. My apprentice here is kindhearted. But where I'm from, the price for horse theft is a hand. The dominant hand. And you can be thankful that you aren't in my land. But you still have to reckon with me. And I am not so kind. My apprentice does not wish to see you crippled and I did put your fate in his hands." She leaned in and whispered to them, "But there are other ways..." She leaned back and with mirrored strokes of her blades she cut expertly across their bare chests. The wounds were not deep and would not require stitches to heal, but they were long and would scar, and little rivulets of blood trickled gently down their fronts.

The elf cleaned her blades in the grass with routine efficiency. The men had not the time to scream, but now they were gasping for air in their shock and fear. They had brushed with death and come away breathing.
"We'll go... please..." Dax pleaded.
Ridahne turned on him, her gaze heavy. "Yes. You will. And that cut will serve to remind you of this night. But I have one more question of you. Have you no remorse? Do you not feel the will of the tree pressing down against your wickedness?"
Dax blinked. "Uh..."
"Answer me truthfully."
"Erm...well a little. But not...not much?"

Ridahne was trained well and did not show any of her thoughts on her face, but she was deeply troubled by this news. The tree was already failing in its influence on Astra. And it would only get worse with time. She lifted her blades again. "Turn around. Walk. And if you trouble anyone on the road again, and I hear of it, it won't be just your hands I'll be having. GO." And with that the two naked men went sprinting off into the darkness feeling more fearful and shaken than they ever had in their lives. Ridahne breathed a sigh and tucked a bit of hair behind her ear, the mysterious air around her disappearing. She was Ridahne Torzinei again, Azurei exile and disgraced slayer of Sols. "Well now. That went well, eh? You performed spectacularly." And she meant it.

The Tree of Astra (LadyAnnaLee and Blackfridayrule)

The two men finally broke their gazes away from their captors and looked at each other as if deciding who should be the one to speak. By some silent agreement, Dax spoke. "I'd have thought that was obvious..." he said softly, but immediately regretted his cheek when the cloaked shadow took one purposeful, elegant step towards him. She had entered a beam of light and he could dimly see her face now, inked and lit by her two glittering eyes that seemed to him to be too light for her skin tone, giving her an otherworldly look. She was corporeal, of that he no longer had doubts. But learning that she was indeed Azurei did not comfort him. They were a hard, mysterious folk from a distant land just as hard and mysterious as the people who tended it, or so he'd heard. And she obviously knew how to handle herself. And a blade.

"Careful," came Ridahne's low voice. It was no longer hard and furious but cold and almost sweet. He visibly shivered; somehow that was worse. "I'm not the patient sort. And fingers make crunchy snacks for hunting cats."
Dax blanched, balling his hands into fists and tucking them protectively at his sides. He had the good sense not to dither and espouse apologies and instead made his amends by giving the pair what they wanted. "Men gotta make a living somehow. James and I came on hard times about a year ago...and well..."
"You decided to casually take up horse thieving? There's more you haven't said." Ridahne wasn't sure of that exactly, but she was going to put pressure on them and see what came of it anyway.

The men fell silent. So her hunch had been right. She let that silence build as she studied them, looking for a hesitation or weakness to exploit. She found it in James, who was the one fidgeting and avoiding eye contact. Ridahne wheeled on him like a shark on a struggling fish. Her cold blade reached out quickly to the soft underside of his chin and, with the utmost control, she held the point to his skin with enough pressure to make it uncomfortable, but not yet enough to draw blood.

"Gambling debts!" He squealed. "We were both in deep and we needed something fast, so we stole a horse to pay the debts!"
"Ah, there it is. And you've continued both gambling and thieving ever since." The men nodded, ashamed. Ridahne lowered her large knife and stepped back, though as she did this, Mitaja slipped through the darkness to pad behind the men and make their spines tingle with the unnerving sensation of being loomed over. The bond between the cat and her handler was evident in that moment, as neither made any kind of sign to the other and yet they operated in tandem somehow. If the men had not been so thoroughly distracted by fear, they might have seen how truly beautiful their partnership was, and the unflagging trust that lay between both elf and cat. Ridahne might have been many things, but she was without a doubt a person who loved and respected animals and there in that moment it showed to any who had eyes for it.

"Well now, my young apprentice," Ridahne said easily, "What do you think? What should we do with them?"

In Dark Seas We Sail

Rohaan wasn't sure what to expect in retaliation for his cheek. Berlin would have given one last warning before he dumped the ice barrel into his, and Uban would have (rather foolishly) attempted to reach in and grab him in the hopes of wrestling the lad into submission. And he supposed that he expected Hana to either try more coaxing or at worst, perform some kind of magic on him. Instead of any of that, he only felt a soft thump on the side of the barrel. Curious and wary, he shifted back to his natural form and peeked out over the lip of the barrel to find a teetering Hana. She toppled over right as a rolling wave hit the side of the ship and sent it lurching starboard. He couldn't help but giggle a little as she hit the deck. She didn't look really hurt, just thrown a bit off balance. Served her right for trying to--

Thwack! The soap bar hit him squarely between the eyes and splashed into the water with a plop. Not only did the warm water immediately start to dissolve the bar, fouling the nice clean(ish) water with it's oily feel and decidedly floral scent, but when he opened his eyes they stung a little; the soap had gotten in. Clamping his eyes shut he squealed like an impaled animal and rubbed at his face under the water. He could now taste the soap and its residue in the water as he'd inadvertently opened his mouth. The boy spat, still scrubbing at his face.

--

Uban took a moment to work out what Wheel meant, but the second he did he broke into hearty laughter. Coins. That was good. That laughter continued as he followed the man's gaze toward Hana and the chaos unfolding there. What had appeared to be an unfortunate slip actually worked out in her favor, as now the near-feral shifter was momentarily blinded and distracted. Now, she had an advantage to press.

"Get him, Hana! Get him while you can!" He shouted. "Show no mercy in war!" He was still laughing, and Berlin was too as he watched. And for a moment, all the subtle, built up stress of recent events and the anticipation of future ones was lifted as the whole crew shared in just a small moment of laughter.