Let it leave nothing but the salt behind

Nils floated silently on the water. Far enough away from the beach to not be disturbed by the sounds of his schoolmates playing. But close enough that he knew the self-assigned lifeguard was paying attention to his seemingly lifeless back float. The only way she made her presence known was the brush of a current from under him or an expected push to avoid floating too far from the beach, in which he always responded with a wordless thumbs up.

This always felt right to him. To be on the water, taken and rocked by the waves. It was if the sea was just as ingrained in his being as that of his mother. There was a sense of comfort, and home in the salty spray.

But as the day wore closer and closer to an end, the water became cooler and cooler. And soon enough, his once wordless guardian surfaced just as the last light was filtering out of the sky.

“Hei kiddo, It’s time to head back. Need a ride?” The nykur asked with only her head bobbing above the water while the rest of her human torso and horse-like body hidden by the dark water. Ragnhild’s loose hair cascading over her head before dispersing in the water like an oil slick tickled at his skin as she came closer to check on him.

The Norwegian hummed in acknowledgement and moved to begin treading water, and looking at the other. “I know better than to climb onto the back of a nykur, Ragnhild.” Was his only response as he began to swim back to the beach, his head held steady above the water.

“Smart man,” She chuckled, exposing the shark-like teeth she possessed before dipping below the water again. Nils knew she wouldn’t be leaving him behind, he could feel her lazy swimming in the currents that surrounded him, and the occasional shove or touch of encouragement to keep him going.

And soon enough, the two made it back to dry land.

Nils casually walked back onto the beach before sitting on the still hot sand to both dry and enjoy the simple view that was the water, just after sunset.

He felt complete in that moment.

As if the hours-long float had filled his lungs with fresh air and the salt had drawn out all of the negativity in his body to be crushed and beaten against cliffs.

He laid down, staring up at the sky as his skin became thirsty. Begging for water that hadn’t been trying to crystalise his being in salt.

There was nothing better in the world for him at that moment, then the dry and itchy feeling of the salt left behind as the heat from the sand and the exposure of air left the water to evaporate.

Eventually he would stand from the grit, and return to his place in the towers. But he could stand to lay for just a little while longer.

Hannibal was bound to already be tucked into his bed, not minding being woken by Nils’ entry into his room. Not when he knew that the one disturbing him would send him into sleep with the comfort of his arms, smelling of home.

Smelling of the salt water, just off the coast.