The Salt of the Earth

Angelique wasted no time. If she was going to make Isaiah—and by extension, the entire regiment—eat a proper meal, she needed supplies. She strode across the camp with purpose, seeking Josiah and Augustine. The two brothers, among the most reliable in the unit, stood near the weapon racks, engaged in idle conversation as they checked their gear. Seeing her approach, Josiah nods, directing Augustine to look in her direction.

"You seem to be on a mission." Josiah said with a smile.

“I am. You said you were in my corner, yes?” She asked, crossing her arms.

"Wow. That was quick. You don't waste time asking for favors." Josiah chuckled.

"What do you need?" Augustine asked frankly.

“I would like you to hunt and bring back something edible.” Angelique smiled haughtily.

“We do have nutrient paste for that?” Augustine said, holding a tube to her.

"You like that stuff?" She leveled a sharp look at him. Both of them began to grimace before straightening their expressions and placing their hands together in apologetic prayer. “Yeah, see? I’m making real food for everyone. The hunters get a little extra.”

"We're on it!" Josiah and Augustine said in unison, grabbing their weapons. The two ran past Angelique in excitement, disappearing into the distance.

Angelique stretched her arms and got to work. If she wanted Isaiah to eat a proper meal, she would make it happen herself. Wait, she wanted the meal. She couldn't care less about Isaiah eating. But if she's going to be forced into the role of Silver Sister, she would force it on him too.

She knelt and began clearing a space near the fire pits, arranging scraps of wood and supplies she could find for a makeshift cutting board and meal prep station. The Unproven watched from the side, cooing in curiosity, approaching slowly to pull on her robes. She glanced up from her work and gave a smile.

"Would you like to help me, little ones?" She asked sweetly. Their smooth, featureless heads bobbed up and down. "Alright. Would you mind looking around the camp for any wild herbs for our meal? Don't wander out, though."

The Unproven scattered, their small forms moving through the camp with surprising enthusiasm. They returned in intervals, bringing handfuls of herbs, roots, and greens. One approached hesitantly, clutching something in its tiny hands. Angelique opened her palm, and the Unproven placed a rough, white stone in it. She blinked, then rubbed a bit off with her thumb before pressing it to her tongue. 

Salt. She grinned at the little one, ruffling its head. "Good find."

A string of distant explosions echoed through the valley, followed by the unmistakable bleating of goats in distress. Angelique paused in her preparations, exhaling sharply. Whatever those two were doing, she could only hope there would be something left to cook by the time they returned. Meanwhile, the brothers took notice, watching from a short distance before drifting closer.

“What are you doing, sister?” one of them asked, his tone more curious than doubtful.

“Cooking,” she replied simply, rolling up her sleeves.

“You shouldn’t have to do that,” another brother said. “We can take care of it for you.”

"Oh? If you knew how to cook, would you be eating disgusting slop?" Angelique asked, pointing at a small knife at the brother's waist.

The brother pulled the knife and handed it to her. "Well... we may not, but we can try for you."

She looked up, meeting their earnest expressions. This was how brothers were raised—to serve, to protect, to take burdens from the hands of their sisters. Even more so the ones in the military. But this wasn’t something she was willing to yield.

“If you want to help, make bowls that you can eat from. Otherwise, sit and watch.” Angelique said, taking the knife.

"Wait! This is for us?" One asked, his voice shaking slightly. Angelique didn't say anything, only smiled at them before getting back to work. The brothers murmured among themselves before scattering to get materials for bowls, carving them from wood or repurposed Rabdos plating. The camp had all the excited buzz of a group of newly personalized Unproven, making their first words with their new face as they became true brothers and sisters.

By the time Josiah and Augustine returned, they carried the bodies of two Malthisans. These bore a resemblance to goats, their fur coarse and their eyes unsettlingly human-like. Augustine’s armor was singed, his face smeared with soot.

“What are these?” she asked, inspecting them.

Josiah dropped the carcass at her feet. “The Lord has named them Baphomet. They can conjure fire and bite hard.”

“It's better to take them down before they see you.” Augustine clapped a hand on Josiah’s back.

"I got the first one." Josiah gave him a deadpan look. “How was I supposed to know about the second?”

"What good is a sniper who can't see the enemies?" Augustine said, rolling his eyes.

"It's not like I had a good scouting point. You don't throw as far as Isaiah." Josiah shot back.

"Hey!" Angelique jumped in before either could say anything more. “Just—just give me the meat.”

She got to work. With these two and the Unproven helping, she had everything she needed. She butchered the Baphomet with efficiency, setting aside the best cuts. Water was boiled, ingredients combined, and soon, the rich, savory scent of a real meal began to drift through the camp. Stew!

The brothers gathered as the pot simmered, their expressions torn between curiosity and disbelief. It had been weeks since any of them had eaten a meal that wasn’t synthesized, processed, or bland beyond recognition. The mere act of watching real food come together felt foreign.

Angelique worked steadily, stirring the pot and tasting as she went. She made sure the broth was rich, the flavors balanced, and the texture just right. Despite the wariness of some, the aroma alone was enough to draw them in, their silent intrigue growing with each passing moment.

When the stew was finally ready, she ladled portions into the makeshift bowls, handing them out one by one. Each brother hesitated before taking their first bite, unsure of what to expect. The moment the warm, hearty flavor hit their tongues, they placed their bowls on the table, dropping to their knees. Placing their hands together, they spoke in unison another prayer.

"Lord! Thank you for Sister Angelique!"

Angelique hadn't expected such a reaction. This was a meal made from spite, yet it was received so well. Her heart felt lighter as the brothers let out quiet murmurs of appreciation. To them, it wasn’t just food—it was comfort, a reminder of the home they scoured the surface to provide for. In the Lord's name, these moments were all they fought for.

As the soldiers ate, conversations stirred among them. Some debated whether Isaiah would actually eat it. He eats what his men eat. Angelique smirked to herself. Let him try to argue.

"What is going on out here?" Isaiah asked as he pushed through his tent's curtain, armor on and cape in hand.

"Oh, we're just having a meal." Angelique stated smugly. "Why don't you join us?"

She saved the last portion for Isaiah. With the bowl in hand, she marched up to him. She was determined to make him eat whether he wanted to or not. If nothing else, she would prove a point—there was more to life than surviving on rations and routine. He might not realize it yet, but change had already begun.

He took the bowl without objection, hoisting it to his lips. He took a generous mouthful, not even sipping for the first taste. As the warm and meaty broth slid down his throat, his eyes shot open. He swallowed quickly and looked to Angelique.

"When did you start this!?" He said, anxiety barely hidden.

"It was maybe an hour and a half. Why?" Panic rose in Angelique's chest.

"Where did you get the salt!?" Isaiah's tone rose with his temper as he looked to the sky.

Angelique followed suit. Bright stars began to fly in their direction, dancing up and down before curving in an arc straight toward the camp. Isaiah's mantle wrapped around Angelique, moving on its own as a shard of crystal salt attempted to pierce her chest, protecting her.

Isaiah reached up, blocking another one aimed for Angelique as it pierced his arm. The blood poured, liquid, before drying and crumbling like sand from the wound. Although his blood had turned to salt, he had still sacrificed it. The grains of blood rose up as he ripped the spike from his arm, attaching to it. He reared back, throwing the spike toward a building in the distance. With a thunderous sound, it left his hand. The spike seemed to disappear, and a moment later, the stars in the sky began to burst into dust, and the glass windows shattered. Red holes sprouted like flowers, cutting through the steel beams.

Isaiah unsheathed his sword and called to the others. "Brothers! Defensive positions! Sodom is coming!"