The Grey Tower

Teric scooped the little Chairenin of the ground and began to walk again. When she began asking questions about the Three-fold Land, he welcomed the distraction.

"What else haven't you told me? About your people, I mean. What are your days usually like in the Three Fold Land?"
Pleased to see his humor returning he went with the first answer that came to mind. “Hot—“
He stepped over some thick underbrush. “I know that’s not the answer you were looking for,” he said stifling a laugh, “What do you want to know specifically?”

The Abyss lost much of its hold on his mind, as they left the Gardens. As he stepped out onto the cobbled path with Avyra still in his arms, an unbidden thought came to his mind. One he did his best to stomp down. He stabbed it a few times to be sure. It didn’t die though, it just lingered in the back just below the surface, like a venomous two step. He quite liked carrying this little Chairenin.

She wanted to know about how Aiel bathed? He guessed that was question would come up at some point. “We clean ourselves in sweat tents. It’s a shame I haven’t found one at the Tower. You haven’t known true relaxation until you’ve spent time in a sweat tent. I’ll have to find a way to show you one.” A sweat tent would have been much more efficient than his current method of bathing. He never quite felt clean after taking a small bucket of water and a bar of soap and scrubbing himself down. Was that his life now? Strange half measures between Aiel and Wetlander? He hoped not.

He walked along in the direction of the training yards. He wasn’t quite sure what he intended to do there, but it was a nice night, and he was away from that pond and all of its implications. Avyra seemed to have made herself comfortable in his arms. He didn’t mind. He looked up at the stars trying to judge the time. It was almost two hours after Low, soon it would be homework time.

He felt her shift in his arms. "Does that actually... work?" He could hear the incredulity. This was a night of shocks for both of them. "And isn't it, like, really hot in the desert already? Why would you force yourself to sweat?"

“Well we usually go to the sweat tent at night, when it’s already extremely cold. It opens the pores, very healthy. And, yes, it does ‘actually work’.” His tone was conversational as his eyes scanned the darkness. “If we were to go to a sweat tent, we would sit and talk in a tent filled with steam, and scrape off the grime of the day with Staera. Honestly it’s cleaner than sitting in a tub of water, soaking in your own filth.” He shuddered at the contamination of so much water for one person. “Sweat tents are a social thing as well. I read that Sheinarans do something similar but with bath houses.” At least they shared the water. Some Wetlanders weren’t as crazy as others. “There a king and a peasant are equals in the bath. In the Three-fold Land any man can speak his mind to a chief, they don’t have to be naked to do so.” Terric had to admit, the Sheinaran way was a step in the right direction, which was more than he could say about many Wetlanders.

“A Staera,” emphasizing it’s pronunciation, “is a piece of copper we use to scrape away dirt and sweat. Sweat only starts to really stink when it’s allowed to sit and dry. In the sweat tent you are constantly sweating and scraping it away. It’s not able to dry and leave salt and grime and dead skin to start stinking.” He wished he could explain better, but for all the books he had read in his life, he wasn’t a scholar.

The wind picked up and she snuggled in close to his chest. He had to admit, to himself at least that he didn’t mind in the least. It had been nearly a year since he’d left the Three-fold lands and during that time, he had avoided people apart from short trips into town to gather information while dressed as a Wetlander. He hadn’t attempted to make any lasting connections, and he had rebuffed anyone who attempted to do so. It was different here. He was playing to stay at the Tower. While Avyra was already making him feel at home here, he couldn’t help but feel home sick. He still missed his parents and his first-sister whom he hadn’t seen in at least two years. He hoped his spear brothers were getting along fine without them and that Sloan hadn’t done anything too rash. He still didn’t quite understand his feelings for Jilla, or what she felt towards him.

“It’s close to homework time, I don’t think we’ll make it to the Training Yards tonight. Should I carry you back to your quarters?” He set off towards the tower, thoughts racing.