Xasne sighs at her husband, wondering how someone like him could be this invested in something so asinine as salt.
Salt.
In this world of mana and flesh and bone, the closest semblance to the fusion of magic and earth lives as Salt. It is not a tool to use willy-nilly—catastrophe awaits those that play with such a violent substance. Acting as an intermediary to the forces of nature, the alabaster is both bridge and flame to the functions of the world, capable of building and sundering connections if used wisely.
Rex is not wise.
This is especially clear in his grabbing of Xasne on the way out. Any man with his wits about him would’ve seen this blunder from a mile away. In his blind rush, he pulls along with him, not his wife, but a maiden of pain, and the consequences made themselves known without delay.
Despite his tugging, Xasne’s not one to lose her helpful side. Taking pity of her husband’s plight, her fingers twist and tug at the magic omnipresent in the world, conjuring in her fist through the unseen flow of nature the very object of his desire, plus a little extra for him to enjoy. She passes it onto him with ferocious eagerness, and Rex, the ever-loving husband he is, wholeheartedly accepts her offering of a salt and battery with his face.
In the blink of an eye, his life got flipped, turned upside-down. No longer at the lead, he finds himself following a heated kiss with the marbled tiles of Castle Alteria. His body twitches as it struggles to both tear his face free and hang on to consciousness.
The view is most amusing to Xasne, who, like any warrior victorious, places a foot on his head in celebration. She grins, blowing her fist clean from dirt as she climbs the prone Rex, standing on the massive prone oaf like one would with their hunted trophy.
“A worthy prize for disturbing my beauty sleep, don’t you agree?” Xasne lets loose a ravenous smile, flexing her olive arms and whistling at her biceps.
“And I love you too…” Rex grumbles as he pulls himself off the floor, ignoring the heel grinding into the back of his skull, dusting himself clean before walking through the halls like nothing’s happened.
“So, will you help find it,” he raises a brow, crooning his head up to meet hers.
No audible response meets his words. Instead, she shuffles on his back, shifting and turning on his shoulders in a struggle to get comfortable as she leans into his head. Her tiny arms rest against the sides of his face as she comfortably plops into his soft sea of inky locks, her snakes nestling deep into the messy black strands.
“This…” Xasne coos as she finally settles, a mighty yawn escaping her. “This shall be your punishment.”
Unable to argue, he simply smiles and accepts fate.
The halls are silent, its stillness interrupted only by the pattering of feet and the snoring on his head. He shivers as she nuzzles closer, purring ever so softly, blanketing him in her warmth as her embrace tightens. It is nice and calm. But as much as he’d like to revel in this peace, his quest remains a priority. With a sigh, he shifts his focus on the cold, unmoving path before him.
The bastion’s icy floor is scarred, bearing on its near-pristine finish untold history. Rex’s eyes gleaned over the scuffed scratches on the alabaster floor, reminiscing over the liveliness that filled every corner, of maids and butlers scuttling about, working to keep the castle running, dusting clean the spoils and portraits decorating the very walls that house them.
Spoils of war and paintings, though not of him and his wife, hang along the path. Previous monarchs stand undisturbed, their imagery still against time, captured in ink and paint.
One stands over a mountaintop, in their hands the mighty banner of the first era. They smile against the sun, their flag waving along the wind. The First, as they were called. None remember their face, not even the paint, but their bright grin remains true.
A canvas follows, one more sinister. The sky cries red, smog fills the horizon. The Crimson Son. The figure stood above bodies battered and broken, raising overhead an axe dripping velvet. And on a pedestal before it, the very same axe with more dust than blood on its blade.
Not that Rex cares. Axes are lame. Good for him though.
A grumble from his stomach wrenches him away from the history lesson, a quick reminder to the purpose of this trip.
The gallery turns into a blur as he hurries his search, passing by past descendants and usurpers without a damn. A few trinkets are upset, jostled, and tossed as he shuffles through, a few he promises to put back up if he ever manages to remember.
His will guides him; his strength makes it so nothing can stand in his way.
That includes walls too.
Having reached the end of the hall, a panic urges him to run back. The very panic that blinds him, trips his feet on some dumb king’s pommel he probably knocked off and sends him crashing into the nearest portrait.
In an unexpected turn of events, the cold hard wall doesn’t meet his face. Instead, he sinks through the frail canvas, landing on the floor with a thud as a cloud springs to life at his dainty tumble.
“What…” Rex coughs, squinting as he adjusts to the darkness. He sits among the rubble of the fallen bricks, dazed, confused and clad in darkness. What light peers through the ripped fabric of the tapestry reveals to him an unsolvable enigma.
Cans upon cans of empty food litter the hidden room. Whoever was in here probably forgot to buy a can opener, judging from how the metals seem to be chewed on. A small makeshift bed, rigged from sheets he hoped aren’t stained with what he thinks it is and various pieces of cutlery. Multiple holes seem to have been dug out the walls.
None of that weirded him out, really.
Not more than the sight of a familiar-looking jar containing white powder.
“Why’s the salt here…” Rex scratches his head in confusion as he picks the container off the floor, only to freeze in place.
Dread fills him, the pain of crashing to a wall resurfacing as he is made too aware of his surroundings. Though, the fear comes not at the possibility of having broken a limb.
The snoring is gone.
