Path of Salt

PROLOGUE

Part 1: That Field of Rain

This... wasn’t what I had in mind.

My body laid in the grass, unmoving, as the rain poured down from the skies. Around me, I heard the sounds of steel clashing against steel and flesh, and the screams of those cut down.

I left my family to run off to become a soldier. I didn’t have delusions that I’d become some celebrated war hero or anything, but at the same time, it was too naive to think that death wasn’t that high of a possibility for me.

And yet, here I was.

I didn’t know how long I laid there, my consciousness was slipping away, and my body felt heavier and heavier. But what I did know, was that the rain stopped at some point, and the sun started to sink across the horizon.

And in the field strewn with corpses, weapons, and bodies – there was only one person left standing. It didn’t matter which side won, if only a single soldier survived.

If they were an enemy, maybe they’d come and finish me off. If they were an ally, then good luck to him. And in the perpetual silence, there was something to shatter it.

“Tobias!”

It was my name. A shout resonating throughout the death-sewn field with my name. And it was a familiar voice. My friend, and most definitely, my savior...!

“Mar...cus...!”

My voice came out hoarse, and weaker than I thought it would. No sooner after that, I coughed, and blood sputtered out of my mouth.

But that had the intended purpose. Marcus ran up to me, his leather boots stepping across the soaked-grass in a comforting ‘plip-plap’ noise, and he knelt next to me.

“You...” Marcus trailed off, his eyes scanning through my body, and I could feel his relief seeping through his voice. “You’re going to be alright.”

I let out a laugh. It sounded too squelchy and wet to be ever normal. “Really...?”

“Really.” Marcus said, his voice seemingly resolute. Then without any warning, he lifted me, and slung me across his shoulders, much like a sack of potatoes. “Let’s get out of here.”

It was then, that the adrenaline that kept me conscious finally ran out, and the sleep that came with it will be something I would say was the most peaceful I ever had.

***

Marcus really was something else. He was the strongest, the bravest, and the most righteous person I know. So I thought of something one day; ‘Let’s go find some adventure in battle’, I said, ‘it’ll be better than this stuck up village in the middle of nowhere’, I said.

And my friend, Marcus, agreed to it ever so easily. It was most likely because of his lineage, now that I thought about it.

I stared into the fire, which was currently roasting a rabbit that Marcus hunted earlier. The flames cast shadows on the forest surrounding us, and I hoped there was nothing out there.

In turn, I stared at the bandages covering my body. A broken bone here, a flesh wound there, but nothing too lethal or life-threatening, I was assured by my best friend.

But more importantly, the looming threat of death just behind me. I wasn’t built for war, or battle. That much I know of instantly. On the other hand, Marcus seemed to be... built for it, actually. It was like seeing him standing against all odds and securing a victory, no matter how narrow, was inspiring in its own way. By all accounts, he was probably going to be a great hero some day if he wanted to go for it.

“You seem to have some deep thoughts in your mind.” I looked up, and found my friend staring right at me. Marcus was slightly taller than me by a few inches or so, and he was built differently from me – much more muscular, and much stronger.

His black hair was trimmed short, but it was starting to grow out again, and by his side was a sheathed sword. His gaze was neutral but his arms were bandaged, and my guilt rose again.

“Honestly... I think that this was a mistake.” I said, gritting my teeth. “To think that I was the one who thought that we would find glory here... I’m sorry for dragging you with me.”

Marcus shook his head. I didn’t know if it was the darkness of the night, but it seemed like his eyes were darker than their usual black. “No, don’t worry about it. We’re both alive aren’t we?” I nodded at his response, and he continued. “So tomorrow, let’s go back to our village, alright?”

“Yeah, that sounds great.” I said, although my voice didn’t quite have the energy for it. Maybe it was because I was still recovering, or maybe it was because of my regrets, but I didn’t quite know.

And in the shadows cast by the flickering flames, there were two boys who left their village to make a name for themselves, but didn’t quite find what they were looking for. One foolish boy whose age barely numbered fourteen years, thinking he would make a mark in this world... how naive.

***

It was almost afternoon when we decided to move out. I was fine enough to walk (although I had to use a walking stick), and Marcus decided that lingering about the forest which surrounded the battlefield wasn’t too good of an idea.

And so, there we were, traversing through the forest. We were armed with swords and spears (stolen from our enemies/comrades), but weren’t quite in prime conditions for combat (once again, mostly me). So we traveled lightly, and carefully.

“Do you think there’s gonna be something that’s gonna happen to us?” I spoke, remembering the process of our recruitment. “I mean, we’re technically employed, aren’t we?”

“I’m not sure about you, but I don’t want to go back to our employers.” Marcus replied, with a very faint bitter tone in his voice. “We’re mercenaries, remember?”

“Ah.” Right. We were never soldiers in the first place, and with how the battle turned out, it seemed like we were supposed to be expendable in the first place.

“That being said, I didn’t exactly leave empty-handed either...” I perked at those words, and looked at Marcus. Seeing my confused expression, his hand went to the insides of his clothes, and he brought out a bulging sack. Minor movements caused the sack to clink, and my eyes widened.

“Where – how’d you get that?”

“The dead won’t have any use for this anymore, I think.” He said, shrugging.

Mercenaries really did bring their possessions just about anywhere. Existences who lived and died by the sword, without a place to call home... It was pitiful that I glorified that role.

I was a mercenary as well, even if I was just accepted to pad out their numbers and fill their ranks, and I could confirm that they did carry their possessions with them everywhere. My own pouch of money was secured within the insides of my clothes, and I could feel the minor heft from it.

“Still though, that’s a lot of money... Do you think we’ll be set for life?” I wondered, even though I didn’t quite feel as excited as I thought. Maybe if the money was gained without us risking our lives, then it’ll be cause for celebration.

“Who knows?” Marcus shrugged again, then slipped the pouch inside of his clothes. “You always wanted to be a tailor, didn’t you?”

I blinked, then stared at him for a few moments. “I mean, yeah. What brought that on?”

“You could probably use your share to start business somewhere, maybe buy out a place, buy some cloth, some textiles, fabrics, you know?”

I felt a grin form on my face, however unconsciously. “Now you’re talking, sounds like a plan to me!” Then I pointed at him. “What about you? You wanted to be a baker, right?”

“Hmm.” He hummed, then seemed to think to himself for a few moments. Then, “Honestly speaking, that battle kinda awakened something in me. I didn’t know why, but I felt like I belonged there.”

I blinked. Then I remembered the night of that battle. He was the only person standing, wasn’t he? I did think to myself that Marcus would make a great hero one day, and it seemed like he was aware of it, even if slightly. So with a hesitant nod, I agreed. “Maybe that is the case, but don’t you want to return to our village first?”

Maybe he was just speaking through the thrill of combat, or something. It was my duty as his friend to snap him back to reality.

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe this whole thing is just giving me a big head.” He said, humming to himself as he thought about it. “But when I go back to the village, I’ll think about it, if I should go become a soldier or mercenary or what.”

“That’s the least I could ask of you.” I replied, and after that, we fell into mutual silence.

...

“You think my old man’s gonna be proud of me?” Marcus suddenly asked, and I turned to him. “I mean, you know that he used to be a soldier, right? You think he’s gonna be proud of me or mad at me?”

I blinked, and thought about it. “Honestly, I’m not sure. Your old man’s too stone faced to ever know what he’s thinking about.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right.” He nodded.

And after that, silence once more, and this time, nobody tried to break it.

Our journey back to our village would be accompanied by only the sound of birds chirping, and the rustling of leaves.

***

It took us three days of traveling to return to our village. When I saw the familiar pathway surrounded by tall, ancient trees, I couldn’t help but sigh in relief.

We were back home, relatively safe. Marcus and I looked at each other, and with a nod, we both let out celebratory noises. Then after we calmed down, we both looked at each other’s bandaged body parts, then winced.

“What are we going to do about these?” Marcus asked, and I felt a looming headache grow with each passing second.

It was one thing to sneak away from the village. It was another to disappear for weeks on end. And it was another thing entirely to return with injuries.

We could only imagine what our families would say when they saw us like this; filthy, injured, and returning unannounced after being missing for a long while.

“Let’s, uh...” I thought to myself. When nothing came out, I let out a small sigh. “I’ll just tell the truth. And I’ll say that I dragged you with me.”

It was a stupid plan. Marcus looked at me, then blinked. “I’m not sure if you’re gonna be alright after that. Your mother tends to be... you know...” He trailed off, letting it hang in the air.

I glared at him. He didn’t need to say it out loud, but there he goes.

“I know, okay?” I let out another frustrated sigh. “If I’m lucky, mother would probably just forbid me from ever going outside without any of my siblings to follow me around. If I’m not, then it would probably be the last time you’ll see me.”

...

“Ah.” Marcus intoned. He must have finally understood what that sentence meant exactly. “I’ll visit you whenever I could.”

Indeed, what that meant was... I would be under eternal house arrest.

“And besides, I owe you a lot.” I said. “If you didn’t survive, then we’ll probably be both dead.” Then I gave him a thumbs up, to let him know that I was perfectly content with my fate. Then, a cheeky realization dawned upon me, and I felt myself grin. “And besides, it’s not like I’m the only one who’s going to get locked up in their own house after this.”

“You know, I have the urge to punch you.”

“Not if you can’t chase me, that is.” And with that, I ran towards the village, with my friend running after me in response.

It should be noted that I mentioned earlier that Marcus’ lineage allowed him to be exceptional in a battle. What I meant by that was; it was a bluff. Marcus probably won’t get any punishment later on, but he was still fooled into chasing me because...

It really was easy to forget that at the end of it all, we were still children, even if we were almost adults soon. The breath of fresh relief made common sense a general ‘hindsight’ overall, and threw one’s caution to the wind.

Maybe it was because of that knowledge that I decided to run away to make a name for myself, but really, who would have known how impulsive that decision was.

***

There were wooden walls, and a stone floor covered by a worn-out red carpet. The fireplace sat in the corner, unused, and the curtains were tied, allowing light to shine in.

The desk which had a small, silver candle holder and small inkwells and quills, along with parchments of unknown contents sat comfortably on one corner. What a beautiful room to be in...

“Aye aye, calm down dear–” Except for the fact that my mother was currently angry right now, for reasons that we all know. I always thought that Father was a cunning man, although he was dependable in his own way. His hair was a silvery gray, and much like mine, it wasn’t the product of age and time. His eyes were a dark brown in comparison, and I always thought that his appearance was disheveled and mismatched in its own way, yet it suited him somehow.

“Calm down?!” My mother shrieked, and I felt like covering my ears. But that would probably make things even worse. “Can you hear yourself, Pierre? Your son ran away, admitted that he fought in some battlefield out there, and you have the audacity to tell me to calm down?!”

Don’t worry. I didn’t intend to get myself fully grounded. Because I didn’t tell her the fact that I may or may not have almost died. I only told them that I went off, fought in a battlefield as one of those helper boys, and went back home.

Compared to my father’s mismatched appearance, my mother, Elizabeth, was refined in comparison. Her hair was a rich brown color, much like the color of moist, fertile soil, and her eyes were a light, almost caramel brown. She had a regal, cold, and almost too distant disposition... is what I’d normally describe her, but right now, she was angry and concerned, and it was perfectly justified.

“Now, now dear, he’s still alive, isn’t he?” Father said, and before she could say anything, he enveloped her in an embrace, and gave a kiss to her forehead. It was real smooth, and it seemed to help pacify mother, if nothing else. “Now, son, what should you say to your mother?”

“I’m sorry mother. I’ll never do it again.” I said, with sincerity in my voice. Because by all accounts, even with the snarky commentary I have up my head, I was honestly feeling guilty about it all, and my mother reacting like this was truly, truly justified.

And when the fires of anger in one’s heart fades away, it only leaves despair and sadness. And it struck my mother real hard, because she started to sob, before crying. Then from one instance to another, she headed for me and I found myself wrapped in an embrace.

All thoughts halted to a freeze.

Was it alright for me to return the embrace? I was the cause of her stress, and now her sadness. I spent an awful amount of time hesitating, and thinking about it, but in the end, I returned it. “I’m back.”

“Welcome back...” Mother said, through her sobs and tears. She wiped away her tears, and then she let go of me, and with a stern gaze that only a truly concerned mother could hold, she told me, “We shall discuss your punishment after dinner, understood?”

I could only nod at her words. Yeah... there’s no escaping that, is there?

And then, the door opened, and I heard my siblings flood into the room. I felt a small hand smack against my head here (ow), a soft pat (that felt nice) on my back there, and someone kicked my shin. Ouch.

“Dummy big brother!” Erise, my younger sister. She inherited my mother’s traits, so she faintly resembled my Mother. And unlike my mother who was normally gentle, yet stern, she could be quite a prick if she wanted to.

Which was right now, because she started slapping my arm. Ouch, ouch, ow. Yeah, I get it.

“Are you alright?” Catherine, if there is a God up above, then bless you. My older, half-twin sister. If I said that Erise resembled my mother, then I would say that Catherine was a carbon-copy in comparison. Even her gentle aura was inherited, and somehow, even more refined than where it came from...

But unfortunately, I do not really resemble her that much. Our hair is too drastically different, and our eyes might have shared the same color, and yet, were on the completely opposite spectrum. Hers was light, and mine was dark.

“That was cool! Got any epic stories?” And indeed, my younger brother named Andre. He took on mother’s hair color, but inherited father’s eye color, along with the cunning glint found within them.

I idly wondered why I’m the only to possess silver-gray hair among my siblings. Maybe it was a rare trait?

And with those words, I spaced out, remembering the few weeks gone by. And within the few moments that I lost focus, he somehow climbed on my back. So that’s why there’s suddenly something heavy on my back...

So my natural instinct was to remove him.

“Get off me!” I shouted, as I shook my back with as much force as I could muster.

My efforts were rewarded with Andre giving me a solid ‘blehhh’ as the infernal child held on like a crab. God dammit. I was half tempted to grab him and let my back drop to the ground, but doing so would probably be a death sentence right now.

“Let’s leave our parents’ room first, at least, before we get anywhere.” I said with a sigh, looking at my Father who had an amused expression in his face, and my Mother who just looked relieved at my return, really.

In the end, Catherine pried off Andre from my back (God Bless her) and with a few words exchanged, got him to stay behaved for a while. Just what can she not do, even...?

...

So this is what having a family felt like, didn’t it?

It feels nice, and only an idiot would trade this for the hollow glory of war.

***

“Damn... you really weren’t joking when you said that best case scenario, you’ll get accompanied by your siblings wherever you go.” Marcus said, idly staring at the two siblings who were affixed to my arms.

On my left was Erise, who said that she’ll keep an eye out on me so that I wouldn’t run off again, and on my right was Andre, who wanted to hear more stories from my war buddy. Who was none other than Marcus.

“Told you.” I replied, shrugging. “These little buggers can’t be pried off, so I guess why not just let them follow me.”

“Who are you calling a bugger?” Andre detached from my arm, and seemed to scowl at me. So with a small sigh, I only extended my finger, and flicked his forehead. Then I raised my palm, and defended myself against the incoming rain of punches.

... He’s actually getting stronger nowadays. His punches started to border on the hurt level, and were no longer mere stings.

“Don’t worry about it.” I said, shrugging again. “Anyways, how are you? What’s your penalty?” I turned to look at Marcus, ignoring my younger brother who decided to start calling me names and sticking his tongue out at me.

“Ah right,” Marcus replied, although his gaze was still fixed on Andre and his obscenities. Yeah, maybe I should wash his mouth with soap later on, or get Mother to do it for me; I don’t really care who does it. “I’m still allowed to go outside, at least.” He shrugged, and I sighed.

“How lucky...” I said, and glanced at my two siblings. At some point, Erise detached from my arm, and told Andre to stop cussing, and now they’re arguing with each other. I somehow expected that, really. “And there they go...”

“They’re lively, aren’t they?” Marcus said, with a small amused smile on his face. Amused he might be, I felt my head beginning to ache again. “Honestly though, times are changing. The battle we fought – it wasn’t just a border skirmish.”

I blinked. “What? What’s going on, then?”

“You remember my father, correct?” He asked, and I blinked again.

“Well, yeah. But he’s still walking around?” A war veteran, most likely the reason why Marcus seemed to belong in a battlefield. I never saw him around most of the time, and I didn’t even know what he did or where he went. Marcus seemed to know, but I didn’t quite want to ask about it. It was none of my business to know what he does, but it was still my business to know if the man was still alive.

“Hey, my old man’s stronger than me.” Marcus said, although his voice had humor in it. I let out a small chuckle, before nodding seriously. “Anyways, he told me that he could feel war brewing about.”

“War, huh.” I let the word out, thinking about it. “Maybe your old man just wants to return back to the battlefield again.”

Marcus shook his head. “Probably not. ‘War isn’t as glorious as you think’, he’d say.” Then his gaze sharply turned elsewhere, and he let out a small ‘ah’ sound. “About your siblings...”

I turned around, and saw the two rolling in the dirt, as they tried to get an advantage over the other. It was a slap fight, and I had no intentions of stopping it.

...

Just kidding, I should probably go stop it at some point. So I said good bye to my best friend, before separating my siblings, and going back home with me carrying them under my arms.

And while walking home, they only started to smack each other, while I was caught in the crossfire of their smacks.

...

What a disaster.