Salt was a luxury in Acorn Village— expensive, scarce, and vital. The village bought it from Sarneth Town, traded for with grain or furs, and every pinch was hoarded. Leon hated the way Erika counted out salt when cooking, hated the taste of bread without enough salt to bring out its flavor. He remembered his former world, where salt was cheap and abundant, and wondered if there was a way to find it closer to home.
Eldrin mentioned once that salt could be found in stones, deep in the Whispering Forest— "salt stones," he called them— but warned that mining them was dangerous, and the salt often contained toxins if not purified. But Leon was determined. If he could find salt stones, he could purify the salt, save his family money, and ensure they never went without.
He begged Eldrin to take him into the forest, to teach him to find the stones and identify safe herbs. Eldrin hesitated, then agreed. "You need to learn the forest if you're going to be a healer," he said. "And if you're set on salt, I'll show you— but you must listen. The forest doesn't forgive carelessness."
At dawn, they set out, Eldrin carrying a herb basket and a small pickaxe, Leon with a cloth bag and a knife. The Whispering Forest was denser here, the trees taller, their branches weaving a canopy that blocked most of the sunlight. The air smelled of damp earth and pine, and Leon's ears pricked at the sound of birds and rustling leaves.
Eldrin taught him as they walked: "That's wolfroot— see the purple veins? Grows near mossy stones. This is yellow hempgrass— toxic, but useful for anesthesia. And that"— he pointed to a low-growing plant with fleshy leaves— "is succulent clover, good for healing cuts."
They walked for hours, until they reached a rocky outcrop. Eldrin pointed to a cluster of gray stones, streaked with white. "Salt stones," he said. "Break one open— the white inside is salt, but it's mixed with dirt and toxins. You'll need to boil it, strain it, then let the water evaporate to get pure salt."
Leon broke a stone with the pickaxe, his hands trembling with excitement. Inside, the stone was flecked with white— salt. He stuffed several stones into his bag, his heart racing.
On the way back, Eldrin stopped at a patch of herbs, his eyes sharp. "Watch," he said, kneeling. He dug up a root with care, brushing off the dirt. "This is mountain ginseng— rare, valuable, good for restoring strength. You dig it with a wooden spoon, never metal— metal poisons the root."
Leon watched, memorizing every movement. He learned to tell the difference between edible and toxic berries, to identify herbs by their scent as much as their shape, to listen for the rustle of animals before they appeared. It was hard work, his legs aching, his hands calloused, but he didn't mind. This was knowledge— power— the kind that kept people alive.
When they returned to the village, Leon boiled the salt stones in water, strained the liquid through linen, and left it in the sun to evaporate. By evening, a thin layer of white salt coated the bottom of the clay bowl. He tasted it— pure, salty, perfect. Erika gasped when he showed her, her hands brushing the salt gently as if it were gold.