The Grey Tower

Being back in the Tower after a week in the wilderness without any sort of tool was quite surreal. His knuckles were bruised ands scraped, rashes from itching plants covered his fore arms forearms, and he’d found ticks and leaches in unspeakable places. He was fairly certain there were still a few stray twigs in his unruly hair. Wearing a clean uniform now felt utterly alien. Almost as much as the respectful nods and slight deference his new uniform earned him. Even full Aes Sedai and Asha’man seemed to acknowledge his presence, barely, but he wasn’t a talkative wall hanging to them anymore. The concept of increased freedom and responsibility was nice. He just didn’t know what to do with it. Felessan Solonne had told him to teach. How should he go about that? He’d never had to teach or train anybody. Well he’d showed Avyra the basics of fighting with her hands and feet, but that wasn’t much. Bah he wanted to put that off for another day, but what would that accomplish? The problem would still be there.

Terric mulled over the problem as he made his way outside towards the gardens. He needed to sign up for new classes, but he was also allowed to officially teach, and a class idea had been stewing in the back of his head for months. With a backpack filled with various books by famed body guards as well as the occasional book of tactics or officer’s manual on is back, and a parcel filled with sandwiches in his hand, he hunted for a good spot to study.

The airy sounds of sounds of a flute caught his attention from deeper in the gardens. He could only think of one person who’d be playing a flute in the gardens at this time of day. His face brightened. There she was, Avyra! The diminutive woman wore a banded Accepted’s dress as she sat on a rock playing her flute. She stopped when she saw him. With a delighted sound, she jumped to her feet and rushed him. He planted his feet at the last second as she leapt into him throwing her arms around his neck. He could hear both joy and fear in her voice as she buried her face against his chest. He couldn’t help but remember the last time they’d spent any time together nearly two weeks ago. They’d stood in a similar position, both of them covered with blood and exhausted from a night of fighting. He’d kissed her that night. They’d both wanted to, but what had it meant? Had it just been an outpouring of stress and gratitude to be alive? As she hung with her arms around his neck, he could almost believe she actually had feelings for him. He wrapped a free arm around her for a moment before putting her down. Whatever that kiss had meant, he was happy to see her. They’d both survived the invasion, and apparently the Aes Sedai had seen fit to give her a promotion as well.

Looking her up and down with an amused twinkle in his eye, he said, “That new dress looks good on you.” At least it wasn’t a banded noble woman’s dress. His pleasure beginning to fade, he remembered his time in the woods. It had only been a dream, but he’d left her to face a horrible fate. He squeezed her shoulder determined that it would only ever be a dream.

Guiding her back to her perch, Terric gave a slight shrug, “It’s my first day back, I haven’t had much time to do anything.” Taking a seat, he unwrapped the parcel and pulled out a sandwich. He passed it to Avyra as he spoke, “I’d love to just go back to sleep, but instead, I have a few books to read.” His face lit up with pride, “I’ve got an idea for a class. Hopefully it will be approved.”

He began to dig books out of his pack, careful not to get any grease from his lunch on them. Reclining with his legs crossed, Terric began thumbing through “The Rose Shield” a book written by an Andoran guard captain, Malcom Copelan. Occasionally he held his sandwich in his mouth as he took notes a separate book. Behind Copelan’s stories about foiled assassinations and observations about protecting a queen, certain unbidden thoughts played in Terric’s mind. He couldn’t help but think back to the time before he’d come to the Wetlands. Back to Jilla. Things had been interesting, passionate, and fun, but they’d never shared a moment like this. He couldn’t imagen spending time with her just talking or enjoying her company. He’d been a much younger man when he’d fallen for the fiery Maiden, her hair trigger temper and razor tongue had kept him on his toes and intrigued him. There wasn’t ever a sign of this comfort, this companionship. Maybe he’d been even more young and dumb back then than he had initially realized.

Memories of his nightmare in the wilderness continued to intrude on his peaceful afternoon reading with Avyra. It had only been a dream right? Sometimes dreams did have meaning. He didn’t know many details, but he did know Wise Ones had dreams with meaning. Those he was becoming more and more certain that most if not all Wise Ones could Channel to some degree or other, it didn’t stop him from wondering. What about the old weaver he’d met just before the attacks. Her words had seemed like nonsense then, even thouh Murdock had been so determined to take them down. The city had burned though. She hadn’t been able to use the Power. Where had her dreams come from?

Glancing over to where Avyra nibbled on her sandwich, sans meat, Terric asked, “What do you know about prophetic dreams? Is that only something Channelers can do?” His nightmare, or was it a vision, still bothered him. Not only had he abandoned his dear friend, he’d seen glimpses of a future he despised, and one that was shamefully enticing.

“You know we can’t talk about that,” Terric said putting on a mock stern voice. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll just check in the library.” He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, the question had just come to him. From Avyra’s perch on her rock, she was actually above his head for once. Taking advantage, he leaned his head slightly on her shoulder while he read. It helped a little, but he couldn’t help but think.
It wasn’t eating him, nobody who let fear eat them deserved to be called an Aiel. That didn’t stop him from worrying. He had control over the man he’d become, right? Abandoning Avyra alone with Mirin Sedai. Was that prophetic? Or maybe symbolic. It was probably just a wild hallucination brought on from burning strange plants. He forced himself to laugh. It was nothing. Right?

“So,” he said changing the subject, “What’re you planning on doing with your new rank?”

Lifting his book to show her, Terric said, “I want to teach a body guard class. We sit around learning to dance the spears better but we don’t actually teach people how to be good bodyguards. I’m actually pretty sure nobody’s formalized much knowledge on the subject. There have been bodyguards as long as the Wheel has wove, but unless it was lost in the Trolloc Wars or something, I’ve never seen even on paper on the theory. There are tons of books on the philosophies and different schools of thought in war. Some countries even publish tactical manuals, but most information on bodyguarding is rather vague. Just occasional things about honor guards and watch posts.”

He paused, popping the slices of meat, Avrya turned down into his mouth. “It’s probably a bit,” he stopped and swallowed, “It’s probably a bit pretentious to think I’ll set that standard, but hopefully I’ll at least get a dialogue going. If not, it should at least help the future Gaidin. Being a bodyguard’s not only about being able to dance well. Actually if you’re lucky, you shouldn’t ever have to dance the spears.”

Terric tilted his head back to look at her. He couldn’t help musing that it was a strange angle to see Avyra from, but it wasn’t an unwelcome one. “I’ve been talking your ear off about bodyguarding, but I should have asked you something. What exactly is falconry? I’m pretty sure falcons are involved but how and why?”