• Memory • Refresh

[Saza Moshe]

70 Ashan, 718 ‣ Nashaki

“Ow,” Saza mumbled, immediately after smacking his open palm against his arm. He pulled his hand away and stared at the squashed little mosquito that’d landed on him, lips drawn into a pout. The legs and little bits were swatted away, and he reached down into the water to rinse the remnants from his tanned skin.

It was warm… almost uncomfortably so, as the sun shone directly overhead and heated the public bath. Saza wasn’t even in the water completely – he sat with one leg drawn up to his chest and the other sitting idly in the bath, trousers pushed up to his knees.

It was crowded, as was to be expected of the hot break. He couldn’t tell if there were more people resting in the water and bathing themselves or if there were more on the sidelines like him, sitting half-shaded beneath the tall structure and partial ceiling of the open bathhouse.

In any case there were plenty of them, beggars and merchants alike, and Saza couldn’t tell if he’d made the right decision in bringing Hyde there, or if it would’ve been better to simply lie and say, no, never heard of any places to bathe. Surely that would have been better than sitting in the sun, surrounded by so many other people.

(He liked other people. Sometimes, though, it could all be a little too much, and his heart started beating a little faster than it should, and he started picking away at his thoughts because he couldn’t pick away at everything else. If things were just… a little more organized. Categorizable, even, like groups of patrons at their separate tables in a tavern. This, though, was disorganized and random, and he cared not for the disarray.)

But Saza wasn’t a liar… and it was cheaper than trying to find an inn close enough to the oasis. The biqaj leaned forward to rest his chin against his knee, and set his hands at the stonework edge of the bath, fingers almost touching the water. His eyes flitted from one face to the next, never lingering long on any person in particular whether he knew them or not, shifting shades in slow, colorful swirls.

When his eyes finally found a comfortable spot to rest – settling on Hyde's face – they had returned to a deep crimson hue, and he watched the other man for a few silent trills. Saza’s fingers reached lower to splash gently against the water. “How’s your hand looking?” he inquired, and lowered his other leg into the bath so that he could scoot closer to the edge.

He kicked idly underneath the warm surface, and added with a small shrug, “I… think there are some private rooms, if this is too much out here.”

The biqaj could manage fine. If Hyde wanted to wash fast and leave, he could sit by the edge of the bath for a while longer, if he just didn’t look around at all the chaos.

[Ichabod Hyde]

7 0 - A S H A N - 7 1 8 . . . N A S H A K I

“Ow,” the mumbled noise gained the attention of Hyde. Ever since arriving to the bath house, he maintained an alert attitude. The gin had worked through his system. He sobered in a way that wasn’t unbearable yet. There wouldn’t be much time left, though, until he needed to start looking for his next drink. While there were offerings at the bath house, for extra coin, of juices and the like, he didn’t have any nel to spare for such things. He had made enough of a fuss (in his own grumbed manner) when they’d went through the changing room because he hadn’t wanted to leave his bought clothes with the attendant slaves. It took a forceful hold on the clothing to refuse the slave’s insistence that belongings weren’t meant to be brought out to the bath. Hyde didn’t trust it, and he’d just bought the items.

So, he kept the canvas bag of his new clothes near the edge of the pool. He sat nearby, with it in his line of sight. Hyde had tried to rinse off what he could at the basins. A rather nervous slave had tried to scrub at least some of the grimy layers away. The warmth of the main bathwaters helped break apart the soot, charcoal, and filth that had clung to his skin over the past several trials.

When he looked at Kalba, to see why the soldier had made such a noise, his face was about the cleanest as it had been since he first met the younger man. Light gray still clung around his eyes. Some streaks of watery gray that trailed over his cheeks to disappear along the stubble of his jaw, but otherwise he’d gotten the muck washed off. Noise identified as a response to one of the many mosquitoes that buzzed around the open-air bath, he glanced at the canvas bag, then returned to squint up at the sky where he had been trying to wish a cloud to cross over the sun.

There was a fluffy white one, just a short distance away. If he wished hard enough… maybe it would block the light for a while. He kept in the partial shadow for the sake of his sunburn, but the light kept glancing off the water and moving over so he kept having to change his spot to avoid the beams… He was getting close to a chatty group of elders that he did not want to get roped into whatever gossip they had to banter about. So, he kept his gaze upward to that little fluffy cloud. He tried to will its path toward the sun.

“How’s your hand looking?”

“Hm,” non-answered Hyde without looking away from the cloud. He felt the water ripple from the kick though. He blinked a few times to rid himself of the squint that staring at the sky had given him. Once his sight adjusted, he looked over with a shake of his head.

“Here,” he confirmed. Hyde didn’t want the other to feel like spending nel just to get a private room to wash up in. Water was still water, no need to pay extra. He lowered himself, in a slide of his body, and went underneath the surface. For a few trills, he remained then he lifted. Hyde slicked back his hair. In the sunlight, with the heat of the water rinsing the dirt off the strands, the silver almost shone through for how bright the metallic hue became. There were some lighter white strands, and dark gray strands, among the silver in choppy knife-cut ends.

Not only did his hair reveal itself, but his skin as well. Without the layers of sweat and dirt, certain things became more noticeable. Like the pale scars that were almost impossible to see except that they stood out white against the cleaned ruddy shades of his sunburnt skin. There were a fair number of them, nicks, scratches, pokes, and a few moments of near-death evaded. He had a great scattering of many thin white lines that raised above the skin in the scar formation, along the span of his shoulder blade behind his heart.

Along his ribs on the left side, just under where his arm rested, very small, simple tattoos resided. Having hidden behind the grime, they became obvious when Hyde lifted his arms to rest his elbows on the edge of the bath next to Kalba. Lined up vertical along his ribs, the tiny symbols were a faded charcoal gray – one of what looked to be a pictograph of a simplistic cross of two knives with N – E – S – W fit between them, followed by a jagged broken whiskey bottle, followed by a small winged insect, followed by a lightning bolt, followed by a skeletal fish, and a pawprint that seemed to be bleeding with the way thin inked lines were jittery-etched around the edges. On his other side, there were a few more in similar stacked design, aligned to be hidden whenever his upper arms were neutral in stance.

Hyde lifted his injured hand though. He’d taken the bandages off while rinsing before entering the main bath. It stung, but no more than a few mosquito bites (and far less itchy). He surveyed the clean palm where the glass had been taken out, then showed the softened scabs for Kalba to see for himself how the various glass cuts looked.

[Saza Moshe]

70 Ashan, 718 ‣ Nashaki

It was harder than it should’ve been, as Saza sat and watched the other man gradually drift closer to a group of bathing elders, not to let himself make a joke. One came to mind, and proved an amusing enough distraction from his increasing anxieties with the crowded bath, but he didn’t let himself say it. Hyde was older – he wasn’t old. Not like them. Even if the comparison was a funny one for the nervous youth to consider.

More important than the matter of teasing jokes – which he knew were rather out of character even for himself, and he wondered if he might’ve been spending too much time with Dion – was that of Hyde’s injured hand, however, and so the biqaj inquired on the state of it. He hadn’t seen it since he’d wrapped it, back in that kind merchant’s store, and the rust-colored stains and soggy bandages had nagged at him more than enough.

The lack of an answer didn’t seem to fully register with Saza, who continued to simply watch the older man. Hyde declined the need for a private room and then lowered himself, sinking beneath the water to immerse himself completely. “Hm,” he repeated to himself, as his eyes darted away from the space Hyde had vanished from. That was fine… it was just a bath. He’d been in there before. Typically he didn’t go at such a busy time… but Hyde had wanted to get clean, and he wasn’t about to ask the man to leave before he was satisfied.

He… supposed he could’ve just left on his own, or he could’ve just let the human enter the bathhouse alone and continue his trial without a curious soldier following him around, but the thought hadn’t even occurred to him.

Hyde reemerged, silvered hair slicked back close to his head with a push of his hands. Saza’s gaze returned to him with another little kick of his legs in the water. His own hair wasn’t all that different from what it’d been over the last few trials – frizzy and sticky with sweat, and darkened in shade because of it – and he debated putting his head into the water, before his older companion moved closer and distracted him from it.

Saza did his best not to stare any longer than necessary; Hyde’s skin was reddened still from the sun, but cleaned of the sweat and grime that had covered the majority of his form. Revealed to him now were the scars and other marks of a life he imagined had been far more interesting than his own, and – tattoos? Were those tattoos? – he raised his wine-red gaze back to the other man’s face. Staring, he reminded himself, was not polite, especially not when the human had come closer to lean against the stone edge beside him.

When the injured hand was lifted and offered towards him, Saza took it into both of his own. As he inspected the scabs and turned it over in his hands, he murmured, “seems okay. Might wanna–”

With a little disgruntled noise, Saza jerked away from the hands of a dark-haired slave girl that had apparently walked up behind him. She raised her hands in surrender, having only moved to grab for his shirt in an attempt to help him remove it, and Saza’s widened yellow eyes stared back at her. “Oh, uh,” he let go of Hyde’s hand then, and dipped his head towards the slave, “sorry. I don’t need help.”

The girl backed away, wordlessly accepting his apology and moving away from them both with haste. Saza couldn’t help but grimace. He fixed the open collar of his shirt and looked back to the water, legs continuing to kick gently. There he sat for a few quiet moments… and then he withdrew the restless limbs, laid on his stomach, and let his arms rest in the water instead.

His head was lowered until his dirty blond curls touched the surface, and he cupped more of the warm bathwater into his hands to begin soaking the rest of it. Saza paused only for a moment as he did so, to reach over and touch his calloused fingertips to the uncovered tattoos on Hyde’s side. “What are the letters for?”

Having never had the need for a map, the youth couldn’t begin to guess what the tattoo meant – if it meant anything at all. He resumed the somewhat awkward washing of his frizzy hair, eyes closing as the water dripped over his face.

[Ichabod Hyde]

7 0 - A S H A N - 7 1 8 . . . N A S H A K I

Hyde tried not to get drawn in by the wine-red again. He knew biqaj. He’d met them before. Many of them in his varied arcs through life. So, he knew it was a traveler’s foolishness to get enamored with the colors and what they could mean. He tended to avoid the silver-blooded, pointy-eared fellows when he could. When he couldn’t, he just avoided looking at their eyes. Kalba kept staring at him though, which made it a bit more difficult. At least most of the biqaj on the seas had the decency to look away after a reasonable few trills. Then again, he’d met biqaj who did the opposite too.

He checked that the canvas bag was still there, then surveyed the bath house while Kalba looked at his injured hand. A slave girl approached, but the older man didn’t say anything… and he watched while the exchange between her attempt to help and Kalba’s refusal occurred. His eyebrows twitched in an upward raise.

Was the kid avoiding getting undressed? Most of the people at the bath house were either in towels, robes, or (like the elders nearby) stark nude. Hyde leaned against the edge of the bath, placed his chin on the palm of his hand, and this time he stared at Kalba. His caramel-brown eyes didn’t change colors, but the irises followed in casual interest while he wondered if the soldier was hiding something under the clothes and if that’s why he wanted to go to a private bathing room. It was enough to pique his curiosity for a few quiet moments.

The Etzori turned away though and slipped under the bath again. His head ached as the gin wore off. Under the water, the change in pressure offered some respite from the pain. He returned soon enough for a breath of air, then repeated the slick of his hair. He returned to his seat, in the lounged posture, and went to look at where the cloud had gotten to… but glanced to see Kalba lower his curly hair into the water while he remained laying against the stone edge? Odd. Was Kalba hiding a flask of liquor he didn’t know about, somewhere? Is that why he didn’t want to undress?

Hyde saw the reach for a touch, but he didn’t move away from it or swat it away. He glanced to follow it while the calloused fingertips touched against a couple of the small tattoos.

“Letters?” he repeated, as if unsure of the word, then he nodded. “Common, y’ dunno?”

Hyde raised his arm some to look at his own inked markings. He lightly brushed his hand over his side, as if to wash it, though it was a subtle dismissal if Kalba's touch had lingered. He then said, “North. N.”

With his injured hand, he pointed at the letters while he referred to them. “E. East. S. South. W. West.”

“Etzos is West of Orm’del Sea. Nashaki, East,” he offered the recent context that he’d taught the soldier back in the shop while purchasing the clothes. “South, Desnind. North, Viden.”

He gave a small but heavy sigh, then slid along the edge of the bath with gentle waves that followed while he moved closer to the biqaj. Hyde lifted a palmful of water and said, “Hold.”

The older man gathered water to help rinse out the frizzy curls. As long as Kalba kept his head down, it’d be far easier to work the warm water through the strands. He aimed to get it as wet as if he’d gone under water, rather than just dampen it. He eyed the darkening color, then murmured, “Y’ don’t like baths?”

[Saza Moshe]

70 Ashan, 718 ‣ Nashaki

Common? Saza didn’t glance over when he heard the word. He kept his eyes tightly shut and continued to run his fingers through his hair, slowly soaking the darkening curls. He didn’t turn his head until he heard Hyde’s voice again, this time offering a proper response to the question he’d asked. It was… nice, he thought, talking to the man more. Getting real replies out of him, rather than a couple more dismissive grunts and glances.

N, for North. The biqaj let his hands fall down into the water and rest there while he observed, bright eyes following the movement of Hyde’s fingers as they moved from letter to letter. E for East, S for South, W for West – and it made a hell of a lot more sense to him then, even if he didn’t understand the purpose of knowing such directions. He had never had much difficulty in finding his way around, but Hyde had seen far more of the world than he had. He supposed not everywhere could be as easily navigated as Nashaki…

Etzos to the west, Nashaki to the east. Desnind was south, while Viden was north – he wondered, then, if it snowed in Viden. Had Hyde ever been there? Did he know if it snowed? Saza’s eyelids lowered slightly as he pondered, a small defense against the bright mid-trial sun. “Maybe I should find a map,” the biqaj considered, “never knew how big the world was. Have you ever…”

Saza’s accented voice trailed off into an uncertain silence as Hyde began to move. The human gave a sigh, and he wasn’t sure what it was for, so he didn’t try to ask. He didn’t want to annoy him, if he’d asked the man too many questions already. So Saza shrugged a shoulder (as best as one could, in his current position), closed his eyes again, and went back to his attempt to wash his hair.

“Hold.”

“Hm?”

He couldn’t remember Hyde pulling his things back over to them, so there shouldn’t have been anything he needed to hold – but he felt a palmful of water pour down over the back of his head, rinsing more of the messy blond curls. Hyde was… helping him?

Though his brows drew together in obvious confusion, the young soldier did not object. He kept his head down, as requested, and after the first few moments of initial surprise, Saza brought his hands closer to rinse his face while Hyde did the same with his hair. It was unexpected, and perhaps that was the reason why the pointed ends of the biqaj’s pierced ears shimmered a light, silvery blue.

“Thanks,” murmured Saza, as he continued to wipe at his face with the warm water. Already the dirty blond curls seemed to shape themselves again, separating from frizz into more defined little waves and ringlets. The question struck him as a bit of a surprise, even if not as much as the provided assistance, and it took him a trill before he could think of the right way to respond.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like baths. He enjoyed being clean of course, and the process of getting there was not all that unpleasant, but he preferred going through it without an audience. Besides – he’d prefer to do it all on his own. With… the current matter excluded, because it felt nice, and Hyde was not a slave simply fulfilling obligation. Saza hummed, and with his head still held down, he replied, “I like baths. I just don't love being around so many people to do it, and... I would rather not make one of the slaves undress me.”

After wiping the water from his face and leaving only droplets behind, Saza lifted his head. He met the older man’s gaze, caramel-brown opposite a deep burgundy red. His hair was about as wet as he could get it without getting into the bath completely, and though it wasn’t exactly clean just yet, it only needed a bit of scrubbing before it would be.

“Have you been to Viden?” asked the soldier, before lowering his head again. His fingers began pushing through the blond waves, and he added, “it’s cold in the north, isn’t it?

[Ichabod Hyde]

7 0 - A S H A N - 7 1 8 . . . N A S H A K I

Water spread through the frizzy curls, darkening the dirty blond strands, and weighing them down to drip back into the warm bath. Hyde gathered the palmfuls with ease. His fingers, darkened at the tips with the same gray that was around his eyes, combed through to get the rinse through to the youth’s scalp. A glint of a shimmer caught his sight, and he glanced at the silvery blue that reflected off the pointed ends of the pierced ears. He returned to focus on the stubborn hair that kept drying quick.

Hyde considered the answer given, and that Kalba had bothered with a thanks for the help. There had been a chance that the soldier would have pressed away, or pushed him to stop, so he thought it interesting that Kalba accepted the assistance without any perceivable trouble in doing so.

The mention of the slaves made note of what the Nashaki native thought of his city’s custom. Hyde didn’t say anything about it, though. He had already insisted on undressing himself at the basins, though he had conceded to some help with the scrubbing of the initial layers of grime that had clung to his skin.

Lost in a moment’s thought about a few things, Hyde’s hands had stopped in mid-rinse of the hair. He didn’t quite realize it until Kalba lifted his head. Accidental, but unavoidable, he stared right back into the rich wine-red of the biqaj’s irises. Hyde raised his hands, in a surrender gesture, in assumption that the other wanted him to stop.

“Have you been to Viden?” asked Kalba, instead. He lowered his head, but he started to comb through his own hair.

So, Hyde drifted through the pool water and returned to his seat adjacent to the youth. He set one elbow on the edge, then rubbed at his shoulder with some water. He considered the simple questions for a moment while he glanced up at the sky. Three more clouds had joined the first… or had the first broken into four?

“Yes,” he answered. “and yes.”

“Colder than… anywhere,” he added. “Except Oscillus.”

Hyde tapped his fingers in slow rhythm against the stone edge. He stretched his legs out. Though he felt comfortable, he couldn’t spend as much time as he wanted in the bath. He had needed to clean, so he could find decent-paying work. Now that he accomplished that… there was no reason to stay any longer, even if he wanted to. With another quiet sigh, he turned to face the edge then placed his palms on the stone edge.

In a press-up, he lifted himself out of the bath without care to use the nearby ladders or steps. He turned around to sit beside Kalba for a moment while the sun and Nashaki breeze dried his skin. Hyde reached over and touched his canvas bag, just to make sure it was all still there. He grabbed a thin towel.

The Etzori rubbed the towel against his hair then he set it over his lap. Hyde surveyed his injured palm. The scabs looked fine to him; the pain manageable. He leaned, palms against the stone while he rested his weight backward against them. Hyde looked up at the clouds again, feet still in the water. Lazy kicks, and the water rippled around his shins and calves.

“Cold kills,” he said in a low heavily accented voice. “White and blue, hurts. Cold gets in your head, then you sleep and never wake.”

Hyde tapped his fingers against the stone, each tap for a trill of thought. After a few trills, he added, “Heat gets in the head, too. Kills, too.”

“Most things do,” he concluded. He pushed away from the stone and got to his feet. Hyde returned the towel to dry his hair some more. He nudged Kalba on the shoulder with his knee and said, “Drink? Then work?”

Regardless if the soldier wanted to come along, or had gotten bored, or wanted to stay at the bath longer, or wanted to go find friends – Hyde picked up his canvas bag and headed to find his way to get dressed in the new clothes, and then out of the public bath house.

[Saza Moshe]

70 Ashan, 718 ‣ Nashaki

Warm water splashed against his face again in gentle waves as Hyde moved away. Saza didn’t linger on the sudden disappointment he felt, but kept his head down and continued to rinse his hair by himself. It was soaked through, thanks to Hyde’s assistance, and he began to scrub a little more roughly through the curls.

The silver-dusted shimmer to his ears was yet to fade, as he tried to figure out why exactly the older man had felt compelled to help him – but then, he had not had many reasons at all to help Hyde himself. He’d just wanted to. So he didn’t let his thoughts linger there, either, and he focused on cleaning his hair of the sweat and dirt it had collected over the last few sweltering trials.

Hyde returned to lean against the stone ledge beside him. The biqaj was still for a few moments, fingers stuck in his hair, pulling the curls to their full straightened length. If it weren’t for the stubborn curls and waves, his hair would reach his shoulders – but as it was, it frizzed and framed his face.

“Colder than… anywhere. Except Oscillus.”

Saza had never even heard of Oscillus. He thought to ask where it was, what it was like besides cold, but he didn’t interrupt when the older’s accented voice continued. His fingers released their grip and moved to scrub at his face again, calloused palms rubbing roughly over his lightly freckled features. It wasn’t until the human began to push himself up and out of the water that Saza took another moment’s pause, and splashed his face to rinse his cleaned skin. Cheeks colored a light, silvery-blue from the heat, he lifted again to let the water drip from his face and hair to fall back into the communal bath.

“It gets cold here,” said the biqaj, though he was distracted from saying more when a bit of water rolled over his lips and into his mouth. A disgruntled noise accompanied the wiping of his mouth with his hand, and he shook his head, sending water droplets everywhere. Saza pushed his fingers back through his hair to lift the cleaned curls away from his head, and hummed in quiet agreement with the older’s final comment of: most things do.

He had not seen the world like a man of Hyde’s experience. He had hardly even travelled from the city’s stone walls – but he knew that of the world, and he had seen it more than enough. The inescapable, burning heat; the frigid, windy cold. He’d seen enough death from it all.

A little nudge to his shoulder caught the soldier’s attention, drawing his burgundy gaze back to the man that’d stood up beside him. Saza offered a nod, only a little delayed. “Sure,” he set his hands against the ledge and pushed himself up. After shaking his hair out again, he flipped it to the side. A few quick steps and he’d caught up to Hyde, and Saza glanced over to offer a smile. The man might've needed a drink first, but he figured it as good a time as any to offer the rumors of work he'd pried from the innkeeper.

“I heard there's a woman looking for some help, near the docks – we could pay her a visit and see...”

[Doran]

Hyde:

Knowledge:
Caregiving x2
Strength x2
Meditation x2
Navigation x3

Loot: -
Wealth: -
Injuries: -
Renown: 5
Magic XP: -
Skill Review: Appropriate to level.

Points: 15

Saza:

Knowledge:
Navigation x3
Intelligence x2
Resistance x2
Discipline x2

Loot: -
Wealth: -
Injuries: -
Renown: 5
Magic XP: -
Skill Review: Appropriate to level.

Points: 15

- - -

Comments: This was another enjoyable chapter in Saza’s and Hyde’s story. I hadn’t expected the two of them to visit a bathhouse together.

(The things that you occasionally add like that provide an interesting addition to the narrative and compliment your writing style quite well in my opinion.)

I found it interesting that Saza liked other people, but apparently preferred things to be categorizable.

Hyde’s appearance was described in detail. Said description made me curious about where exactly he has gotten all those scars from. I never realized that he feels drawn to biqaj/their eyes – or rather, tries not to!

Just like Hyde, I wondered why Saza didn’t get undressed and if he was hiding something. His explanation that he just doesn’t want to do it around so many people made sense to me.

I’m curious about Hyde’s travels now. He must have had quite an interesting life. I wonder if we’ll ever find out more …

The ending worked well in my opinion in so far as it provided a preview as to what might come next.

Enjoy your rewards!