Notes: A continuation the 'Travels of a Ryassophore' one-shot series. I would suggest reading the stories previous to get a basic gist of how this'll be going, though it's certainly not needed.

Warnings: This story contains various plot devices, and if it ends up being continued/finished... There is genderbending and there will be eventual slash. While it will not be hardcore anything (a kiss and hug at most, surely), be forewarned. Any criticisms of this or flames will be looked at and promptly posted for others to mock at.

Finally, any reviews are appreciated, especially those which contain constructive criticism. Thank you!

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The Territory of Salt

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Revenge

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/Travels of a Ryassophore/

Al frowned, making a strange face as he bit into his ration of salted meat. Slowly, he managed to chew and swallow it, putting the rest back into his pack. "I hope there's some water somewhere..." He confided to Cloe as they walked along. "All the salted travel-food we have has got me very thirsty, and I don't know if it's wise to drink the water this soon." He sighed and looked ahead of them. "Now until we can find out how long this goes..."

He sighed again as the two continued on through the desolate landscape.

When Erin had said that the mining his town practiced led to the need to dump the by-products and had created salt-flats, Al hadn't expected such a wide land. Composed entirely of glittering white and cream, the ground was cracked into bone-colored hexagons that spanned for a great distance. Every here and there, evidence of long-past rain was evident. Dried water-beds and pools dotted the landscape, and passing them only made the pair that much more thirsty.

It wasn't hot, nor was it even truly warm. Even so, the sun was blinding against the pale white of the landscape, and the air was still and stagnant.

It being the second day of trekking through this blindingly white salt that crackled beneath their feet, Al was happy to finally see an end. Sharp protrusions stuck up from the ground, the faint hint of smoke rising into the air.

Cloe looked up, smiling at the smoke and silhouettes against the sky. "Do... you think they'll have water?" She laughed dryly, her voice cracking some. "They've gotta, right?" She let go of his sleeve, which she had been clutching for comfort, and quickened her pace, manging only to get a few steps ahead of him before tiring back to normal. "If they don't, I can't say what I'll do..."

"I've never heard of anyone who could survive without water." The man swallowed, the thought of water making him salivate. "Surely they do..."

As they got closer and closer, their steps becoming slightly more unsteady, the ground beneath their feet grew more sandy, the salt becoming loose from the wind that began to blow steadily. This was not a blessing, as the sand made it more difficult to walk the further they went. Each step, bit by bit, began to sink slightly deeper and harder to pull back up. Eventually, the salt grew up into long shallow sandy hills and piles that stretched indefinitely to either side.

Finally, Al stumbled at the top of one, taking Cloe with him. The two rolled downhill, a slide of sand partially burying them.

"Ah!" He said harshly as he pulled himself out and bent over to try and pull out Cloe. "I'm so sorry!"

Cloe stared up at him, feeling a little dizzy from the tumble. Her head tilted from side to side for a moment before she smiled and stood straight on her feet. "Ah... What happened?" She reached up, trying to brush some of the salt out of his hair, ignoring her own salt-filled hair. "I wasn't paying attention at all."

Al frowned when he noticed her reddened face. "Come on. It's only a little further." As if to reassure himself, the Ryassophore turned to stare ahead. "I even see some water ahead. It's not too far. Do I need to carry you?"

Cloe laughed. "Not at all." She held onto his sleeve, but kept her chin up as if to prove that she could handle herself. "Let's just get where we're going before I do, though." She turned her head to smile up at him. "What about you, though? How are you holding out? That robe must be awfully warm, even if it's not that hot..."

"I'm better tended to this environment, so don't worry about me." Al managed to smile as he began to guide her to the small well that looked to be only a few feet away.

Cloe frowned when it just barely seemed any closer than it did a few moments before. "Hey..." She narrowed her eyes as she peered at it. "... do you think we're walking against sand that's flowing the other way, like the waves of an ocean?"

The man creakily turned his head to stare at her, his cheeks and nose a bit pink. "I... I don't know." He blinked slowly, trying to process this new idea before flopping down on the sand and waited patiently to see if he would begin to move.

Cloe stood beside him, chewing on her lip thoughtfully. She reached down and tugged at the hem of her dress, tearing off a wide strip of the cloth, and crouching down to be at level with him. "Here." She draped the torn cloth like a scarf over his head, tying it under his chin and smiling. "That'll keep some shade on your face. Sorry that's it's dirty."

Al jerked his head up to face her, blinking as if he couldn't focus on her before smiling crookedly. "Oh, sorry. I think I'm not as used to this as I thought." He laughed harshly, standing up. "Maybe I am getting a bit warm." He fell silent for a moment before stepping forward. "Come on, Cole, let's go. The more we dawdle, the worse this'll get. We need to get some shelter."

Cloe's heart skipped a beat as she slowly paused, trying to regain her composure. "Eh... Al?" She leaned forward to look up at him, smiling curiously. "Who's Cole?"

The man blinked curiously at her. "Who?" He laughed softly. "Are you sure the sun isn't getting to you?"

Cloe's heart recovered from the skipping and sunk. She pulled back to look ahead of them. "I must have misheard. I thought you called me 'Cole,' and I was curious if it was someone you had met on your travels."

Al smiled benignly and shrugged. "It's not important, though..." He laughed lowly in his throat. "Regardless of whether we're in an ocean or salt... We've reached the well..." He laughed. "We've been right by it for a while... I wonder when that happened?"

To accent his point, he pulled up on the thin rope, tugging it up and up until a a plain, rusty metal bucket saw the light of day. Inside was a bit of water. He held it out to the girl, making sure to keep it still to keep from disturbing the sand that had settled to the bottom.

Cloe gingerly dipped her hands in the water just enough to fill the makeshift cup, then lifted the water to her lips and took a much needed gulp. "Aah! It doesn't taste good, but it feels great!" Beaming happily, she, in turn, took the bucket and held it for him to get some water. "Your turn!"

Al smiled as was about to do the same when there was suddenly a great cry of alarm and before he could turn around, something hit his skull, making him see stars and all went black.

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"Ow..." Al groaned, raising a arm awkwardly to rub his cheek. He started to open his eyes, but it was too bright. "My head..."

"That's what happens when you get slammed on the head with a boomerang."

The man jolted up, preparing to look at who had spoken, but fell back to the bed when his head exploded in pain. "Owww..." He curled up on his side, clutching at his aching skull.

"Yeah, you might not want to get up." It was a lowly apathetic voice, probably that of a older man. "But you can talk. Who are you and why were you trying to steal water?"

"I hadn't meant to..." Talking did hurt some.

"You didn't have permission."

Al furrowed his brow. "But we needed it."

The voice didn't sound impressed. "Doesn't mean it's right."

"You make it sound like it's wrong to survive."

Al waited for a response that took a while in coming.

It came in the form of a laugh. "Alright, alright. I will give you that, then." There were sounds of someone standing, the soft tear of clothe against wood. A calloused hand ran across his forehead. "You've slept for a day. You were foolish to walk about so completely clothed in the sun like that."

Al tried to smile weakly. "What about C-- My friend?"

"She's fine." The hand was cool and welcome. "You're lucky that we did catch you. No one drinks that water, because it's poisoned." At Al's jerk, there was another throaty chuckle. "No need to worry. She's fine, just had to pump her stomach to get it out before any damage was made."

Despite the reassuring words, the Ryassophore struggled. "Where is she?'

The hand left. "She's laying beside you. The medicine's made her sleep deeply."

"Oh..."

"Sleep some more. We won't do anything to you until we can question you more clearly."

Al tried to smile again. "Thank you for your kindness."

Another laugh. "Don't call it that just yet."

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Cloe awoke with a small start, shivers running down her spine. She looked around, rubbing her arms, trying to get her bearings. "Where am I...?" she muttered, looking down at the sleeping Al. Who? She choked and reached up to cover her mouth, jerking her head away.

Shakily, she rose to her feet and left the room, careful not to make a sound, and not really looking where she was going. She managed to avoid crashing into a table, but wasn't so lucky when she crashed right into someone. Stumbling back a few steps, she kept her gaze downcast to hide her expression. "S-sorry." She kept her hand over her mouth and tried to step past the figure.

The figure was trim. "It's fine." The voice was low and gruff, rather devoid of emotion. As was the sigh. "You should still be laying down."

Cloe looked up, rather startled at the voice's tone, or lack thereof. "I..." She swallowed and regained some of her composure. "I'm fine, so there's no need."

"Good. Wake your friend. I've been waiting to question you, so hurry up." Without waiting a response, the figure left, flipping open a cloth door-covering and was gone in a flash of bright outside light.

Cloe glared at the doorway. At that moment, she didn't want to turn around and go back into the room to see him, but she complied despite and poked her head into the room. "Al?" she asked softly, then raised her voice and called his name again.

The man jerked awake, bolting upright, his pupils dilating in the weak light. "C-cloe? Are you alright?"

Cloe smiled. "I'm fine. There's a man who says he wants to ask us a few questions, though."

"Man?" His eyes lit up in recognition. "Oh." He threw back the blanket that had been laid over him, feeling quite happy that he hadn't been stripped of his clothes or anything. He cautiously made his way over to her, wobbling somewhat from laying for so long. "Cloe, I will admit, I'm not sure what's going on here, but just know that I'll keep you safe, alright?"

Cloe laughed softly, waving a dismissive hand. "Please don't worry about me. I'm tougher than you seem to take me for." She turned and started toward the door the man had left through. "I wonder if we're supposed to meet him outside, though..."

Following her, Al stepped outside, wincing and shielding his eyes from the sunlight. Despite, or perhaps due to, the low angle, the light was bright and harsh. Just as the two were about to step around the building, the voice from before stopped him.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Al and Cloe twisted around to see a tall, trim man with buzzed brown hair. The bulky, light clothing hid everything but his face. Long and angular, it was tore and terribly scarred with long angry lines that had been inexpertly healed. From the look of it, the scars extended down to his neck.

He sighed and crossed his arms. "Before you even try to escape, I want you're names and why you're here."

Trying to smile harmlessly, the Ryassophore stepped before his travelmate. "I am just a simple traveling man who's trying to learn more of the--"

"You're not answering the question."

Al's smile faltered and he cleared his throat before restarting. "I'm called Al, and I'm traveling with my friend Cloe. We'd not meant to take your water, but..." He paused hopefully. "Would the holy capitol be near? That's our destination..."

Frowning, the man nodded. "It is. Only a two day's walk from here... Where have you come from?"

"The town to the east."

At this, the man stiffened. "I see then. Have they begun their yearly festival yet?"

Al nodded slowly. "I think they started a few days after we left. Why?"

A smile. "Nothing of interest." He stepped forward. "How about you go back and rest. I will bring you food." He didn't wait for an answer, instead gently guiding them back inside. "I'll be right back. Don't try to escape."

Blinking confusedly, the Ryassophore smiled lightly at Cloe from where he sat on the bed. "That seemed to go well, don't you think?"

Cloe didn't look at him, instead keeping her gaze fixated on the door. "I don't know. He doesn't seem to trust us at all..." Finally, she turned her head to look at him, offering a smile. "But I suppose that's understandable, since we're strangers." There was a momentary pause before her youthful enthusiasm returned and she ripped her gaze back to the doorway. "Ah! I wonder what kind of food he'll bring!" The enthusiasm died as soon as the words left her mouth. "... I hope it's not salted..."

Al waved a hand dismissively. "I'm sure that the people here are more conscious than that. Besides, I've heard that salt is good, because it conserves the water in your body." He hunched forward languidly. "I'm just too happy to care, though. To imagine that the capital is this close! It's very lucky, because the third year is nearing it's end!"

Cloe looked at him for a moment and moved to sit beside him on the bed. She laid her hand delicately on his arm, a light smile on her lips. "We'll have to, then, set out as soon as we've eaten and rested, assuming we can stay that long..." She hummed thoughtfully. "What do you have to do once you get to the capitol?"

"Well," Al tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I'm not sure, I've never been before. I suppose I'll just have to play it by ear." He was about to continue when the clothe door opened.

"Here. It's not much, but that's all we can spare." The man dropped two plates on the nearby table.

"We're more than happy for your hospitality. We couldn't complain."

The man made a noncommittal noise as he slumped into a far chair and stared at them silently.

"Oh, you don't need to watch us." AL commented as he picked up a plate and gave it to Cloe. "We won't leave."

"Hmm. I don't want to give you a chance to warn them."

"I'm sorry?" The Ryassophore frowned confusedly. "What do you mean?"

The man gave no response other than to turn his head with a frown.

Cloe smiled nervously and glanced between the plate and the man. "It sounds almost as if..." She trailed off, tilting her head to the side. "... are we being held captive?"

"You are."

Al jerked up to look at him. "What? What do you mean?"

"You're being held captive."

Cloe choked on the food she had been about to eat, covering her mouth for decency's sake. She turned her head and coughed a few more times before looking up at the man. "Wh-why?! We're sorry for trespassing, and all...!"

The man scowled at her, his scarred face twisting up in ugly anger. "That has nothing to do with it!" He seemed about to stalk out when Al raised a hand.

"Please, good sir, I'm sure we can talk through this peacefully."

"Ma'am."

Al blinked in confusion. "I'm sorry?"

"I'm a woman."

Cloe flushed lightly in embarrassment and gawked at the woman. "I-Is that so..." Her gaze fell, but she regained her confidence and looked back up. "Regardless, why are we being held captive, if it has nothing to do with trespassing?"

With a thump, the newly-revealed woman folded her arms and furrowed her brow darkly. "Your friends won't get any warning from you."

Al could only stare in shocked silence, his hand slowly dropping to his lap. Finally, he looked at the woman. "What do you mean?"

"What are you, a simpleton?! Are you playing a fool?!" The woman jumped to her feet, her chair falling over backwards behind her. Both Al and Cloe jerked away from her violent action. "You won't ruin the revenge we've been waiting for! What I've been waiting for!"

Frantically, Al searched for something to say. "But don't you think you're being a bit, er, hasty?"

She took a step forward. "No! This isn't hasty, and it's what those scum deserve! They profit from our suffering! Tomorrow, they will suffer for us!"

Cloe clutched Al's sleeve, leaning away from the woman and toward him. "Who are they, and... what did they do to you?" She lifted her free hand to gently touch her own face where the woman was scarred, as if to inadvertently touch the old wounds. "Did they give you those?"

By the girl's words, the woman seemed to sink down. Slowly, she bent down and righted her chair and sat back down in it. Slowly, slowly, her hands went to her knees and squeezed the clothe there.

"You mean... the town that mines coal and logs and dumps the salt here, don't you?"

Spurred by Al's words, the woman's knuckles clenched to white. "They've been dumping their waste here ever since they could. They didn't care then, and they don't care now. What used to be good farming soil, is now inhospitable salt flats. It's poisoned our water and killed our food, but we never gave up because we knew we would get our revenge one day. We would make them pay for killing us off like that!" The more she spoke, the more enthused her face grew, though when she paused, it left her.

"My child did this." She slowly lifted a hand to run along her torn and ragged cheeks. "The women have had birthing problems ever since they began dumping here. My child... He was slow, but precious to me. He was my only child, after I had tried for so long. I loved him, but... Like some of the children, he began to get sick. He lost control of his actions."

Her voice broke with a shaky sob that tore from her ragged throat. "He was with me in the kitchen when he had a fit. He grabbed a fork from the table and started to stab me. I-I tried to stop him, but he wouldn't listen. So I strangled him. I laid him on the table as he scratched my face over and over until finally he stopped moving."

The woman began to fumble for words. "I-I had no choice! He was suffering too much for me to make him live on for my sake. It would be selfish of me, but... He was only six! Was what I did selfish? Was I j-just a t-terrible mother? Was this all m-my f-fault?"

As she continued to talk, tears began to drip from her angry cheeks before she finally lost control and kicked over a nearby cabinent. As if by magic, she was suddenly calm and collected. "So I will do what I have to, so my son will appeased." She laughed lowly, wiping at her face. "I will atone for my sins by doing this for him, and you won't stop me from it."

Cloe looked up at Al with emotionally logical stare. The man could only jerk his head away.

A bit confused, if saddened by the act, she looked back at the woman and swallowed hard. "A-Are..." She winced and ducked her head, staring at her lap. After hearing the story, she found it difficult to say anything at all. Her gaze lifted back up. "H-How do you know that they know what the dumping does to your people...? Have you t-talked with them?" She ducked again, bracing herself for any hostile actions that might be directed her way.

The woman stared at her incredulously. "They don't care! They say we could just move, but how can we?! This is our home, and my foremothers and their foremothers have died here, and I will be buried here too! I refuse to allow my home be destroyed because it just happens to be in their way of progress!"

Cloe fell silent again. She tightened her grip on Al's sleeve, looking just as lost as she felt.

Al licked his lips, finally speaking. "Well... Would we be allowed to leave? We just want to go to the capitol. I need to get there soon, before I run out of time."

"No! Not until we begin marching!" The woman cried vehemently. "You won't ruin all of our hard labor. You--"

She was interrupted by a small boy pulling open the door-flap and peering in. "Missus Sabor! Everyone's ready!"

A slow smile crinkled up Sabor's face before she slowly sauntered out, pausing to rub her hand on the boy's head. "Alright then. Come on Destilacion. Let's start the march. If we start now, we should reach them while they rest off their festivities." She paused just at the door and turned to smile mockingly at them. "You may leave. And don't try to sneak past us, because we've lived here for our entire lives. We know the salt flats, as hellish as they are. The land is flat. We will see you, and we will kill you." She left, the clothe flapping shut behind her.

Cloe moved her hand from clutching Al's sleeve to clutching his hand, both for comforting herself and supporting him. "I don't think we have m-much of a choice," she managed, her voice trembling. "and we can't delay, or you won't make it in time..."

"No, I won't. Come on." Al pulled her along behind him, pausing at the door to grab his knapsack and stuff in some food and a canteen in it. With this in hand, he slowly peeked outside, the shadows flickering lightly from the stars. Talking was on the far end and fading away. "Come on." He and she began walking in the opposite direction of the marching group. Around them, the buildings were silent, doors windows open. In one home, light flickered from a candle before a small desert breeze blew it dark. "It's almost as if they don't plan on coming back..."

Cloe didn't respond and Al let out a harsh laugh and smile. "You're right. I suppose, perhaps they don't."

It was with those words lingering in the salty air that the two travelers wandered out into the desert. Behind them marched the people of the flats, wishing for revenge and willing to kill and die to attain it.

/from the traveling diary of a wandering Ryassophore/

...to be continued as we please (signed, kris-et-dan)