Fanfic:Dreams of Honor
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The smell of wet ash was pervasive. Even within the Tower grounds, Terric could smell burned buildings and worse. The people called the Seanchan had done their best to crush the Grey Tower. It remained. Shaken, scarred, but still the Tower stood tall. Terric knew he'd done his part to defend the Tower and the city, but sometimes it just didn't feel like it had been enough. With that in mind, he had begun to push himself harder than he had since Selection Week. Any time he thought he could take it easy, run a little slower, not go that last round against the sparring dummy or, sketch instead of studying, he could smell the scent of char and death on a stray breeze. This kept him focused.
One such morning, Terric faced off against three of his fellow Drin. They nervously circled the Aielman, practice swords held in white knuckled grips. He floated in the Void, waiting for a glimmer of an opening. One trainee brought his blade up for a downward swing, his every movement gave the attack away, and Terric launched himself forward to counter the attack. With a grey blur of motion, and a grunt of pain, the man was on the sand, his sword laying a few feet away. Terric didn't let his momentum die, he barred into the remaining two men, knees and elbows striking out almost as much as his spear. They fell back before his onslaught. Even within the Void, Terric knew this was a useless fight. These men wouldn't learn much from him, and he needed opponents who were an actual challenge. It wasn't boasting, that wasn't his way. It was simple fact.
The bout drew to a close, with the others managing to score the occasional hit on Terric but unable to use their numbers to pin and overwhelm him. He could hear the men grumbling amongst themselves while he stood near the water barrel. Maybe he shouldn't have gone as hard on them. No, they had to be strong. There were threats everywhere. He felt another pair of eyes on him and turned to see Felessan Solonne watching him from across the practice yard. How long had the man been standing there? Gaidin tended to move well for Wetlanders. Terric realized that wasn't a fair assessment. They moved well in general, better than many Aiel. Even if he'd never admit that out loud. Terric crossed the yard to talk to the Gaidin.
When Terric neared, Felessan Solonne raised his hand in greeting, "I see you Terric. What are you trying to prove by knocking those poor sods on their aerses?"
"I see you, Felessan Solonne," the Gaidin had long since stopped trying to get Terric to call him Felessan, "We need to train hard, all of us. The Tower is hurt, I need to be able to defend it."
The Gaidin gave the younger man a long considering look, "Terric, I've faced you before. You and I both know you can take apart any three of your fellow Drin. They know it too. You don't need to constantly prove it by kicking them around. Try teaching them. You're right the Tower is in danger. I'd think we'd be safer if we had a whole class of skilled warriors instead of one or two who just beat up on their classmates. It's a lesson you'll have to learn… Sooner than later. For now come with me." He turned and began walking without future explanation.
Was he in trouble? Terric did not know. He hoped he wasn't, but Felessan Solonne didn't seem happy with his answer or his sparring match. Something was wrong, the large Gaidin was leading him towards the stables. His fertile mind tried to piece together the situation but every answer he came to seemed completely wrong.
His confusion came to a head when he entered the stables, several Gaidin stood around the stables, wearing their color shifting cloaks, each with a horse laden with gear. Ravak Gaidin stood to the front of the group, face grim as always.
"What's going on?" Terric asked. He trusted the Gaidin, but this was a mystery he'd been shoved right into the center of. He wanted answers.
"Learn some patience, boy," Felessan Solonne grumbled from beside him.
Chastened, Terric waited for the other's to speak. Ravak Gaidin stood silently, eyes like augers. Weighing Terric, measuring him. Terric was surprised how hard it was to meet the Wetlander's eye. His tone was formal. "I see you Terric, of the Salt Flats Sept, of the Nakai Aiel, Drin'far'ji of the Grey Tower. Today, you will be leaving the Tower's protection for the first time since you began your training. At least officially," he added with a rueful grin. "Over the next two days, you will be blindfolded, and your care will be in the hands of your escort. You will be fed, watered, defended and cared for like a child. You will be a child, for all intents and purposes. You will not remove that blindfold for any reason, even if your escort comes under attack. Do you understand me?"
He rankled at the notion that he was a child, but he didn't let it show. Instead he just nodded. Then something hit him, "Um, Ravak Gaidin. How am I supposed to run blindfolded?"
Terric thought the Master of Training's stunned expression was uncalled for. It was an honest question. The Gaidin sighed, hand twitching, "No, Terric, you aren't running. You will be riding with the rest of us." Before Terric could protest, Ravak Gaidin continued, "This test is about facing your fears, you get to start facing yours early."
One of the Gaidin led forward a brown beast. It snorted angrily, round eyes indecipherable. Terric met its gaze until another Gaidin wrapped a blindfold around his eyes. Working together, the managed to get Terric into the saddle. He sat perched awkwardly then promptly toppled off the other side. He was caught by a number of rough hands who forced him back up right. Apparently, the Gaidin had already prepared their supplies so they set off within moments of getting him back onto his horse. He began to slip again as the horse set off at a walk.
After his third time falling off, Ravak Gaidin had him tied across the back like a sack of flour. The indignity was compounded by the fact that he'd been forced to travel this way when he was dragged off to a cell in Baerlon. That didn't compare to being fed like an invalid or how they had to strip him so he could go relieve himself. He faced it stoically as possible though, this was an important part of the ceremony. He knew he needed to put aside his own pride, it was all part of taking another step towards becoming a full Gaidin. After two disorienting days of riding, being fed, and occasionally spun around, a halt was called. From under his blindfold, Terric couldn't tell if there was anything special about this location. From the ambient noise, he could tell he was in a forest, but he couldn't tell much more than that.
Ravak Gaidin's voice was loud, shouted from a short distance. "Terric, this is your survival test. You are in the Mountains of Mist, to the west of the Grey Tower. You shall remain behind in this area for four days, where your training and knowledge of the Wetlands will be tested in order to survive. The only supplies you shall have are the clothes on your back, a waterskin, a utility knife, and a day's worth of pack rations. At the beginning of the fifth day, you may make your way back to the Grey Tower. One week from now, at the sunset of the tenth day, you shall arrive at the Warders' Hall. You shall walk this journey alone and unaided. Should you leave the wilderness before the end of the fourth day, you will fail. If you arrive at the Grey Tower either late or early, you will fail. If you seek help from anyone, you will fail. And failure has only one price; expulsion from the Grey Tower, never to return."
This was it then. He could feel the adrenaline building. He had to survive a few days, how hard could it be? It didn't matter. It was a step he had to complete.
"Do you have any questions?"
He didn't have any questions, he just wanted to get on with the test.
"Then this is the end of our journey, and the beginning of yours. You can remove the blindfold once you can no longer hear us depart." A moment later, horse hooves rung out as the assembly of Gaidin rode away, leaving Terric alone.
The forest air away from Hama Valon was blessedly free of ash. The air was still too wet and full of too many odd smells, but at least it smelled alive. Even though he had been left miles and miles from the nearest settlement, Terric could tell he was far from alone. The strange bugs and animals that lived in a Wetland forest seemed to let out a constant den, at least in comparison to the Threefold Land. He set off walking in no particular direction, making sure not to follow the Gaidin's path. Walking in the woods was oddly refreshing. Even if everything was too wet. After about an hour of aimless walking Terric saw something that caught his eye, a three with a low hanging branch that was at least mostly straight. It looked thick enough to suit his needs as well. Using his survival knife, he hacked down about four feet of the branch and began stripping off smaller off shoots. Once it was clean, he began to hone one end into a point. What was a leisurely walk in the woods without a spear?
Surviving in the Wetlands was much easier than surviving in the Threefold Land, Terric thought to himself as he lay motionless in the clearing, covered in leaves. This land had its own problems such as biting insects and other blood sucking creatures. He'd learned this on his trip to Hama Valon. There weren't too many predators around this part of the forest. Terric himself was probably the most dangerous predator in this area. He waited in a clearing frequented by rabbits and other small woodland creatures. He didn't have anywhere to be, and he could wait all day, so he did just that. The leaves itched but he fed it to the Void. He floated alone in the Void with his heartbeat, waiting for an animal to pass his hiding spot. After an hour, judging by the pain from the rock pressed into his elbow, a rabbit hopped into the clearing. A single thought drifted across the Void. Dinner. The small creature hopped along, unaware of the man hiding below a pile of leaves, his breath nearly still, and nearly one with the surroundings. The rabbit hopped closer and a big hand shot out and trapped it in place. It struggled for its dear life, but Terric wouldn't be deterred. He snapped the creature's neck and returned to his makeshift campsite. After four days of hunting like this, Terric was beginning to think the Survival test wasn't all that it was made out to be.
Rabbit corps tucked into his belt, Terric set off back towards his camp site, keeping an eye out for good firewood along the way. In the Threefold Land, burning dung was much more common but he'd make due with wood in the Wetlander way. Unlike his home, wood was rather abundant here. He needed some small bits of underbrush for kindling. Terric had made his camp at the base of a fallen oak tree. It was hidden from sight by the mass of roots and high underbrush just the way he liked it. It was also close to a river. No right thinking Aielman would pass up the proximity. He decided not to camp on the shore to avoid unwanted visitors of the human or animal variety. He made his a little pile of leaves and moss in a small dugout hidden by the oak tree's roots. Striking a rock against his survival knife, he managed to make a spark to light his kindling. He began cleaning the rabbit, careful to remember to occasionally feed his fire. He lamented the fact that he'd been unable to find any fragrant herbs while looking for kindling, but in the wilderness, all meat tasted good. As the night wore on and his fire began to die down, Terric decided to find more wood. There were some bushes near his camp site. If he remembered correctly they were only half dry. If he remembered correctly that would keep the biting and stinging insects away.
The branches gave off an odd smell when they burned, both sweet and pungent. He'd have to remember the bush's distinct leaves and remember not to use it for firewood. He stared into the crackling flame. The hour must have been getting late, the woods around him were turning an inky black. He almost felt as if he was floating, outside himself, outside of time. Terric marveled at the strange feeling, but it was time to sleep. He had to keep his energy up. First, he needed to find a tree to relieve himself against. He climbed to his feet and stomped out the small fire before walking into the darkness.
Unable to see much past an outstretched arm, Terric forged on. The dark silhouettes of trees lurked in the darkness, branches reaching out to snare him. Noises echoed from within the forest and the darkness began to take on a life of its own. As he continued deeper, he could see shapes shifting in the distance. The trees grew closer together in this part of the forest making Terric feel unusually claustrophobic. He broke into a run. Years of sneaking in the Threefold Land meant he barely made a sound as he charged through the woods, branches clawing at his grey uniform.
Terric's foot caught on something and he pitched forward and began to fall. He seemed to hang in midair before crashing to the ground and tumbling down a sharp incline. He brought his arms and knees up to protect his vital bits from damage as he tumbled through the scrub and brush. He came to a stop with the feeling of being pricked all over his body. He opened his eyes to see veiled women. He couldn't tell how many there were, but each of them had a spear with the tip poking into him. Every time he tried to move, the spears poked a little harder. They were all Far Dareis Mai and each wore a look of contempt above her veil. The women jeered and taunted him. He struggled to free himself, but the spears only dug in deeper. Inch by excruciating inch, Terric pulled himself free. He collapsed in a heap in front of two more cadin'sor clad women.
Terric looked up at the women, both perfectly illuminated in the black. The first woman, knelt before him, and tenderly dabbed at the blood on his face. He began to lose himself in her emerald eyes the same way he head for years.
"Jilla," he muttered weakly.
"Pathetic," she said, her usually smirking lips twisting into a sneer. She stood and walked into the blackness.
The other woman, whose features were a more mature, feminine, version of his own just stood by watching impassively. "Tessa?" Terric called out. It was her, his older sister. She just shook her head in disappointment and walked off in the same direction as Jilla.
He was alone now. If anything could be considered alone in these woods. He had the nagging feeling something was watching him. He began walking, quickly breaking into a trot, and then a run to escape the eyes. Terric broke free of the woods into a moonlit clearing. In the moonlight, he could make out a shape lying in the grass. Was that a body? His eyes snapped to the tree line, scanning for movement. When he was satisfied it wasn't a trap, he approached the corpse, kneeling to inspect it.
In the moonlight, he could see the body had been cut, beaten, and even burned in places. Obvious signs of extended torture. The face was the worst part though. It was a young Aielman. His name had been Ash, he'd been killed by the Reyne years ago. Lifeless eyes locked on his own. The ragged lips parted and words creaked out, "Too slow."
"What do you mean?" Terric asked even though he knew. Deep in the icy pit of guilt forming in his stomach.
An emaciated hand shot forward and grabbed his collar with surprising strength. The corpse pulled itself up and shouted in Terric's face, "You let me die!" His rancid breath causing Terric to gag, he continued, "You were too slow and they killed me. You killed me." His ragged voice seemed to crumble away. Then the ends of his hair began to break off and the skin on his nose and forehead began to flake away. A breeze picked up and more flesh sloughed off. The face began to turn to sand and crumble away. Horrified, Terric backed away and began to run, the wind screaming after him, "Too slow!"
His lungs burned but he'd finally outrun the accusing winds. He'd just put his hand against a tree to catch his breath when he heard a female voice, "I don't blame you, you know."
He turned to see a woman carved from the tree stump. She sat with her legs folded beneath her and a crutch across her lap. "I don't blame you for my leg, Terric." Even though she seemed to have been carved from wood, he recognized Raya. They had been friends since they were children. She had broken a leg when they were out climbing rocks as teenagers. It had never healed right, putting an end to her dreams of becoming a Maiden of the Spear. The wood carving turned its face towards him, eyes sad. Crimson sap welled in her eyes. "Why couldn't you save my first sister?" she asked, voice raw. The trees branches reached for him like talons. "She was the only light I had left. You failed her, if you were ever my friend, you wouldn't have let her die."
He batted away the grasping branches, but they continued flailing at him, leaving scratches on his arms and face.
"I tried, Raya, I tried to save her," he shouted as he did his best to fend off the branches.
"Liar! Coward!" The words stung more than the scratches. He turned to run.
"Run away, like you always do, Terric!" Raya screamed after him. "You abandoned all of us, to do what? Dally with a treekiller?"
Her threats and accusations chased him deeper into the darkness. The further he fled, the harder it became to run. The air was so cold. Unnaturally cold, even for the Wetlands.
"What'cha doin big guy?" he heard a feminine voice say from around his elbow.
He felt the night's tension fading away, it was Avyra. She stood smiling up at him, perfectly illuminated in the darkness. She looked beautiful in a Caihrenen noblewoman's dress, hair in an elaborate pile on her head.
He turned to face his young friend, as she drifted next to him in the void. "I have to keep going," he said, not really knowing why. He continued forward, body still sluggish and oddly light.
"Why not stay here?" she asked, "With me." She sinuously wrapped her arms around his, clinging to his side.
Why not? He could just stay here with Avyra for ever.
No, there was something he had to do. For some reason he had to keep pushing forward. The void around him still seemed cold and sluggish. "I have to keep going," he said, trying to pull free.
"No, don't leave," her voice sounded terrified all of a sudden. "She's here," Avyra hissed, "Mirin. Don't let her hurt me again."
"Come with me then," he said trying to pull her along. It was fruitless. He was unable to budge her.
Terric gagged and coughed as the void rushed in to close around him and drag him into the deep. His nostrils burned and he couldn't breathe. Avyra screamed again as the blackness coalesced into the shape of a woman.
"Worthless Novice," she said in a distorted screech of a voice. While the voice was distorted, he recognized Mirin Sedai's doll like face. She lunged at Avyra, wrapping talon like fingers around her legs.
Avyra screamed again, kicking out to no avail. The darkness didn't seem to be restraining her like it was Terric. He fought and tried to break them free of the suffocating blackness, but his movements were sluggish and he could barely breathe. Avyra was like a weight on his arm and he couldn't even save himself. The void began to shift around them and they were all pulled apart, hurled in different directions. He hit something solid and clung on, but the darkness swallowed Avyra and Mirin until he could only hear screams.
Terric managed to climb onto the hard surface. The void seemed to retreat as he did so, now he was surrounded by normal darkness, there were even stars visible through the trees. He collapsed onto his knees hacking out black sludge. It congealed into a fat slug and squirmed off into the darkness causing him to recoil in disgust. Pulling himself back to his feet, Terric looked back out into the darkness. Avyra was still out there, but all he could hear were screams.
He gathered himself to rush back into the darkness after Avyra but stopped in his tracks. The deep blackness was rushing towards him, coalescing into something almost corporeal. Its edges were impossible to follow and its overwhelming presence was maddening to behold. Something beyond human understanding. He prepared to stand his ground, to dance with whatever this monster was, and then it let out a howl, it sounded like a chorus of accusing screams. Each scream sounded somehow familiar, but they were too mashed together to tell for certain. He didn't know what it was, but he didn't want to contemplate what it would do to him, so he ran. Maddening terror battled with guilt and he ran faster. He couldn't leave Avyra back there, but he couldn't turn back.
Terric crashed through the underbrush, all pretense of stealth abandoned. His headlong charge sent him careening off of threes and staggering through bushes. He didn't know where he was going, he just knew he had to keep going. It howled again, sounding much closer. If he stopped it would overtake him. He couldn't stay ahead of the screams. Something caught his foot. He went down in a sprawl, scraping his knees. Desperately, he pulled himself forward on his belly, dinging his fingers into the dirt as he crawled. The screams grew louder, right on his heels. Then, silence.
The crackling of a campfire seemed out of place in this forsaken darkness. There it was, it's comforting familiarity just that much more disconcerting. A man sat beside the fire cooking a hare.
"Terric, me boy, come sit by the fire," the man said in a thick Illianer accent.
The man looked familiar, Terric though, as he pulled himself to his feet. It was Lorek Gand, the man he'd come all this way to find and bring back to the Threefold Land. Terric felt for his knife, blood and ashes it was gone. He scanned the man for weapons. He could just take the soft Wetlander down with his bare hands.
"Do you Aiel no understand hospitality?" The man sobered under Terric's stone gaze. "I know what you're here for. Well I know what you claim you came here for."
"Yes, to bring you back for judgment," he said stalking forward, "Barring that, I came to kill you."
Lorek Gand began to laugh derisively. "Fortune stab me, boy, you do be lying to yourself. Duty? Judgement? Those no be what you want. Aye, lad you wanted adventure, like in those books you do be reading."
What did this Wetlander know? Acting like he actually knew anything about Terric. The man was a petty thief, rage bubbled within him as he charged around the fire, fist raised. Lorek Gand didn't raise a hand to defend himself. Instead he snared as Terric's fist connected with his face. Each punch landed with a satisfying thump, filling his knuckles with bark fragments. He stood over the body breathing heavily, knuckles covered in blood and sap. The Illianer's laughter echoed in his head. He slumped back against a tree, pulse pounding and ears buzzing. Everything felt hollow as he slumped to the ground.
Terric hadn't rested long before the screams began again. He leapt to his feet and began running. He dodged under branches and leapt over fallen logs, heedless of what lay on the other side. Whatever it was, it couldn't be as bad as the screams. They were farther back this time, but he didn't slow his pace.
An indeterminant amount of time passed and Terric spotted a pin prick of light ahead. He raced towards it. He didn't know if it would keep it at bay but it slim hope was better than none. He kept running, long legs eating the distance branches tugging at his cloths until finally, he burst free of the forest. He stood in a clearing with a narrow creek running through it. In the Threefold Land, this much water would have been staked out and a clan would have used this area for herding goats. In these lush Wetlands, the water was completely ignored. Terric was certain the shallow flow was only known to a handful of travelers. The clearing was oddly peaceful. Rays of sunlight peaked through the canopy and birds chirped. The idyllic setting seemed to keep the screams of the past at bay. After looking around for enemies, Terric knelt to drink by the side of the creek. He couldn't help think to himself that Avyra would love this place. Climbing to his feet, Terric noticed a new figure. He wore a fan cloth cloak, but even that wouldn't have allowed the man to simply appear. He was tall with unruly red hair that was going grey. He walked confidently with a heron marked sword at his hip. His red silk coat looked freshly laundered, and his Wetlander boots gleamed. When the man spoke, Terric felt his stomach turn.
"I see you Terric. Working hard to become a Gaidin are we?"
Terric recoiled, that as his voice, older, and somehow more, arrogant.
The man, Terric refused to name him, continued talking, "This is what you have to become you know. If you don't, they won't accept you. They won't love you either. She won't love you," he added in a taunting tone.
"I don't have to put up with this," Terric snapped, turning to stride from the clearing. This Wetlander didn't know what he was talking about.
He froze. Where had this newcomer come from? He was also tall, with the same unruly greying red hair. He wore proper cadin'sor and carried a spear. His sleeves were rolled up and Terric could clearly see the glittering clan chief's mark on his forearm. He gave Terric a kind smile, "They won't love you then either." His voice was sad, "You'll be the tame Aiel they bring out to dance the spears. Wetlanders don't care about us. They don't want to be your friend. I'm sorry, boy, it's a hard lesson, but one you must learn. Here," he said, extending the spear, "Take this spear, return with me. Back to the Threefold Land where you belong."
The spear hung between them. All he had to do was reach out and take it. Right? That's what he wanted right? To return to his Sept? Maybe one day become a clan chief? Fight endless skirmishes over water? It did seem simpler that way, but he'd be leaving so much behind. He'd stayed at the Tower for a reason. They were a thorn in Leaf Blighter's side. If he left, what? He'd return to endless raiding. The Aiel said it kept them hard. They were dying and had ancient feuds. They were doing Sightblinder's work for him.
He knew what he must do. Firm in his conviction, Terric reached out to take the spear.
"That's a good man," the older man said as he released the spear. He cut off, face morphing to one of surprise and pain as Terric whipped the weapon free and stabbed it into his chest. With a twist and a bloody slurping sound, the spearhead was pulled free, and Terric leveled it at the Wetlander who wore his face.
"That's right, come take your rightful place, fight the Shadow, become what they need you to be."
There it was again, the rage boiled inside him. Who did he think he was? That man wasn't him. He didn't have to become that to find his place at the Tower. Did he? He'd find out one way or another. Spear held high, he charged across the creek. At Terric's bestial snarled, the man's smug expression fled. He whipped his sword free a second too late as Terric rammed the spear home under his chin. He pulled the spear free and his knees gave way beneath him. As he collapsed, the world began to fade away.
Hacking and spluttering, Terric awoke partially in the creek, bright sunlight beating down on him through the trees. His entire body hurt, his clothes were ripped and he was covered in scratches. Even his knuckles were bloodied. Hey lay still for a moment trying to piece things together. His head felt horrible, as if he'd just woken up after a long night of drinking. He wanted to close his eyes and go back to sleep, but he couldn't. He wasn't even sure how many days had passed. He'd have to wait till nightfall to reorient himself with the stars. He'd done all of that form his previous campsite, but he had no clue where he was now. How had he traveled so far? Laboriously, he pulled himself to his feet. He quickly found a trail of trampled underbrush and snapped branches. Had he really been so careless to make such a trail? Maybe if he had, he could find his way back to his old campsite. After half an hour of tracking, he realized that the path didn't follow any particular logic. Instead it wound and doubled back on itself. Finally it reached a dead end.
Terric stood on the bank of the slow moving river, gazing in awe. How had he come out of that alive? Why had he even tried crossing that? There was no use trying to cross it now. He couldn't even see the bottom. Instead, he found a spot nearby to make camp. He'd forage for food and make a new plan.
A few dead squirrels and a pocket full of roots and berries later, Terric pulled himself through the branches of a tall tree. Most Wetland trees looked the same to him, but he thought this might have been some sort of pine. He had decided to get a lay of the land before attempting to make progress in any direction. Unless he'd wandered too far afield, he should be somewhere in the mountains to the west of Hama Valon. According to the Gaidin, it would take a Wetlander five days to walk back. He definitely had time then. As he climbed the tree, pulling himself up to the next branch and feeling around with his boots for appropriate foot holds, his mind drifted back to the past. Climbing trees was a lot like climbing rock faces. He'd loved doing that as a boy. The fond memories were almost enough for him to ignore the previous night. He could almost imagine, Raya climbing next to him. It was just like old times. Memories came back unbidden. The unbridled joy on her face as she climbed. It quickly distorting into shock as she slipped and fear as she began to fall. Their hands missing by inches as Terric tried in vain to catch her. Her broken body on the sands below. Terric shook his head and kept climbing, that had been twelve years ago. He was climbing a tree in the Mountains of Mist.
The tree Terric had picked was thankfully tall enough to see above the forest canopy. He hung precariously as he looked over the forests. He looked off to the east for any sign of Hama Valon. He let his eyes scan north and south. All he could see was a stunning vista of rolling green. Like somebody had painted the dunes. Tessa loved green, he'd have to show her these lands on day. Memories of last night bubbled to the surface unbidden. His sister standing over him with that look of utter disappointment. He still didn't understand that night. Focus on the here and now, Terric. Which way am I going? he chided himself. To the northwest, he could see Mt. Aemon. He'd have recognized the tall mountain and its unnaturally cleft peak from any direction. He wasn't sure what had caused the cleft, but the Grey Tower wasn't too far away, so he had his suspicions. Terric knew he'd make his best time if he headed towards Mt. Aemon and then began traveling east, but that would also mean crossing the river again. He'd somehow managed to survive the crossing last night in the middle of a nightmare, he could do it today with all his faculties around him. He began to descend the tree with a new purpose.
With the rest of his food wrapped in his coat and held over his head, Terric surveyed the river. It wasn't too wide here, but he couldn't see the bottom very well. It didn't matter, it was do or die now. He'd fought trollocs and even a shadow sworn channeler, he could face the water. He could face, the Abyss. His chest began to seize, but it didn't matter, he had to keep going. He stepped out into the water. The edge was deeper than he expected and his foot sank in up to his calf. He flinched and almost pulled his foot free, but no he had to keep going. Pressing forward, he stepped in with the other foot, boots squelching in the silt. Heart pounding in his throat, he put one foot in front of the other. Soon the gently flowing water was up to his knees, then his waste, and finally at his chest. He took a step and suddenly, the water was above his head. He coughed and spluttered as water rushed into his mouth. No, he thought to himself, I can't do this. The abyss was reaching up to take him. He began to back pedal to escape the encroaching wetness. His hit foot a slick rock and down he went. He kicked and splashed trying to stay upright coughing as more water poured his mouth. With a mighty lounge, he pulled himself to the surface long enough to get a breath of air. When his head broke the surface he desperately sought the Void. Grappling with the suffocating panic, he forced it into the Flame. The Void enveloped him as he sunk back into the water. This time, with his wits about him, he was able to get his feet under him and clamber across the slick river stones to the shallows.
Terric was surprised have kept hold of his parcel of food, most of it had come undone letting food spill out, but at least he still had one of his dead squirrels. He set off to the west towards Mt. Aemon, boots squishing. As he hiked, he kept an eye out for additional berries and other edible plants. He didn't find many berries, but he did manage to scrounge some more roots and catch a lizard that had been watching him from a bush. That combined with his squirrel would equate to a decent meal once he found somewhere to camp for the night.
Terric's fire crackled merrily. This night, he'd done his best to avoid any of the same kind of brush he'd used at his previous campsite. Having lost his knife the previous night, Terric was forced to use a sharp rock to sloppily skin his squirrel. He managed to finish his dinner without any more unfortunate episodes. According to the moon's phase, he was on the night of his test. Thankfully, his episode had only lasted a night. That did mean he was starting a day later than the Gaidin had suggested, but Wetlanders didn't know how to move long distances on feet. It was that reliance on horses. After quashing his fire, he turned in for bed, hopeful nothing came to kill him in his sleep.
That night, his dreams were fitful, confused snippets of his nightmare interspersed with rapidly churning water. He woke feeling sore and unrested, but he set out anyway. Long days of running and the occasional stop to forage gave Terric more than enough time to dwell on the events of that night. He still didn't know what to call it beyond a nightmare. He'd woken up so far from his campsite, and apparently across a river. This worried him, but not nearly as much as the nightmare. He'd abandoned Avyra. It was only a dream, but the guilt was still real. What could have made him do such a thing? His memories of that night were so fragmented, but he could clearly remember her screaming as she was dragged into the blackness. He shuddered at the memory of screaming, writhing something. Still to abandon her? Was he going to let her down? He'd let down so many people he cared about in the past. It was just a dream, he told himself forcing his doubts down.
On his last day of his journey, Terric couldn't help but think, What would his future hold? For a year now, he'd come to accept his life at the Tower. He had agreed to train with them. But was that his future? He had spilled blood in the defense of the Tower. Obviously forces wanted to weaken it or destroy it. A weakened Grey Tower would allow the Shadow to move freely and Terric couldn't abide that. A voice in his head niggled at him though, But what do I want? Did he want to stay away from his home forever playing at being a Wetlander? He was an Aielman and Aethan Dor but he would not return to a life of meaningless border raids. As he trotted along between great trees and along game trails, he continued to think on his place in the world. Ji'e'toh would guide him, he was sure of it. Did he have to pick a side? Aiel or Warder? Both were enemies of the Shadow, and both lives had much ji, but failing one path or the other would incur massive amounts of toh. He couldn't keep avoiding these questions, as a Ji'Alantin.
The sun was sinking lower in the sky as Terric approached Hama Valon on the final evening. Even from this distance, with the setting sun at his back, he could see holes in the walls and destroyed buildings. The new scaffolding gave him hope though. The city would heal. He paused at the top of a hill to survey the city. Just one year ago, who would have thought he would have cared so about Wetlanders? True he had befriended the occasional Wetlander Merchant or guard when they entered the Threefold Land, but this was a new feeling. He realized he cared about the people of this city like he would have people in his Hold. Even though several septs could have fit into the city and nobody could even dream of knowing everybody, but there it was. The city, the Tower, they were growing on him. Not just for what it stood for but its people. He was happy to see the city recovering.
The decimated gates were guarded, but they let him pass at the sight of the remains of his grey Drin uniform. Somebody must have sent word ahead that a Drin was returning from his test. The grey clad men all let out a cheer as he passed, and yelled encouragements. Their enthusiasm managed to worm its way through his exhaustion. He picked up his feet to nearly a trot, then a sprint. He remembered that last day of Choosing Week, running along with the other hopefuls, Boden leading them towards a camp full of cheering Aethan Dor. He had drunk so much oosquai that night among his new brothers, feeling exhausted but accomplished. He felt that same glow as he dashed through the streets dodging around vendors trying to sell their last pies and construction crews as they rebuilt buildings. He regretfully blew past a sweetbun vender, but there was no point throwing it all away now.
The Tower dominated the sky in front of him as he dashed towards the gates. He passed through the main gates, past the guard house he'd dragged Mirin Sedai and Leala Sedai into when the Seanchan attacked and into the courtyard. Arms and legs pumping, he charged through, eyes shining. The sun was setting in the distance when he pushed the great doors open. On the either side stood two rows of Gaidin facing inwards, a red carpet rolled out between them. Across the foyer, the Mistress of Arms stood flanked by the Master of Training and the Gaidin Captain. At an order to approach, Terric walked down the path between the Gaidin. He could feel each of their eyes on him weighing him. They wanted to know if he was worthy to join their ranks. He had survived the first test, but that was all. He still had a long way to go. Even if he'd trained with a weapon as long as some of the younger Gaidin, he knew he lacked the surety of purpose they had.
He stopped in front of the officers, meeting Riahana Ferria's stern gaze. She ordered him to kneel. As she drew her sword, Terric couldn't help but watch the heron marked weapon as she placed it against each of his shoulders. She sheathed the blade with a crisp salute. "Rise, Terric Ji'alantin," she said simply. The ceremony was over with few words, but the Gaidin's way was one of action.
