Salt: A Ninjago story

1: Salt

He looked from the ramparts over the city. White linen banners hung from the structure, not for surrender but victory while smaller black flags lined the streets in remembrance of the three years that Ninjago had mourned their beloved Royal Family. Like the victory banners these had been hung immediately and would probably remain until time ripped them free. He watched the fabric fill like sails as if they held the weight of his precarious life and closed his eyes to the icy gusts that rolled in from the east. Winter was almost upon them

The Princess of Hearts had seen fit to rip the heart out of her city and him, but news from the prison had been brought to him and here he was, again.

She wore the white garb of the defeated and pious and painted her face white once more. She stood in the centre of her dark cell, a pillar of salt, having looked back and seen the horror of her actions, she now held herself in judgement. The harsh red slash across her eyes was gone. She held her upturned hands forward for forgiveness, the paint now slashed across her wrists. The hem of her white robes greyed and scuffed from the daily ritual, she stayed like this until she could no longer hold her arms aloft and would crumble to the floor.

He had started coming to her now daily. When the team retired from training he would slip away. Lifting her weakened body from the floor and wiping the paint from her wrists and face. Her crimes had surpassed any assessment of her fragile mentality, so no event in her past would help gain forgiveness from city or Judge. The news of her repentance and decline had drawn him back. Her life was in his hands again and his fingers touched her skin as he dragged a wet cloth over her face. Dead eyes stared past him as the soft skin beneath the mask pulled and stretched as the paint was wiped clean. For all the evil that the world believed her to be, he knew her life had once been real and good, until one day it was not; the day his actions impacted her life and the mask had appeared. She had once explained with glee how it had begun with him, as if it would excuse her actions. Her dead eyes told a different story now. She knew she had got it wrong. She had tried to articulate her thoughts and reasons but could not find any way to convey how the horror of her past had warped her future. In the courtroom no ears wanted to hear her. On paper, unable to find the words to write her confusion she exhausted her supplies. In her sleep, she relived the nightmare of her youth with older eyes and pleaded with the darkness for forgiveness.

'Why do I feel the need to save everyone?' he said to her still face as her eyes blinked slowly. He had no idea if she heard him. He moved the bowl of water aside and towelled her face gently. He went to the door, knocked and swapped the tray for another. Returning he sat and lifted the lid on one of the two small cups. Steam rose and the aroma travelled. Raising the cup he held it forward to her lips as his fingers, resting below the base gently tipped it forwards. The savoury broth settled on her lips until she parted them to drink. Gently placing the cup back down he removed the lid of the second and also drank. He continued like this, offering her cup up to her quietly and then taking a sip of his own until they were finished. One day she would look at him. The person he knew was there and he longed to speak to. As damaged as she was, he felt close to her 'Harumi' he accidently released her name into the air. He hadn't meant to. He had not said her name on the occasions he had visited and now it echoed in the space tempting him to say more.

'I forgive you. Please forgive me.'

The silence was as loud as any shout and his statement seemed to shout the loudest. I'm pathetic. He thought. That I need you. That I know you're good... Well I believe you're good. They're not the same I know but... But... That's a bad word. I'm finding reasons, excuses. I shouldn't be here...and then whispered 'I should never have come'

He rose and moved to the door. Behind him, the gentlest voice... 'don't leave me'