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35. Mining Redux
🕑 Added 2024-12-29 07:00:05 +0000 UTCDorian was right to hurry me. The Verndari didn’t have a clock, but he had some way to keep track of when our shift should start. His glower deepened when I entered our section.
“Being on time makes you late, Human.”
However, he didn’t add anything else, and I kept my mouth shut and hurried to grab my pick and mining gear. Unsurprisingly, my pick, with its damage at the junction, was the last one left. I grabbed it and then headed for the tunnel that Dorian and I had started carving out.
“Where do you think you are going?” The Verndari’s bellow caught me off guard, and I stumbled back at the imposing green frame that appeared out of nowhere when I rounded the corner.
“I am going to help Dorian.” I managed to keep the tremble out of my voice. Anger at his look of satisfaction at my response and years of experience made that easy. This Ættar was nothing more than a bully.
A mean smile spread across his dark green lips. “He isn’t there. His skills were needed by another mining group, and I decided to loan him out.”
“I can continue to work on the shaft.”
“No. I have a better use for you. We are opening up a small pocket. Join the rest of the men there while I inspect what you two have done.”
If he expected push-back, he didn’t get it. However, anything coming from this interaction had to be a bonus for him. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he wanted a repeat of my last exposure to high-density Aether. A new pocket in this cavern would be rich with Aether and a density high enough to induce toxicity for most at my level.
I took it as a win when I entered the other cavern and received as many looks of surprise as scowls. Let him deal with the strife that came with me earning my cut. Of course, he would find that less of a challenge if I never collected. After all, dead men struggled to collect their shares. However, the joke would be on him. I had figured out how to manage excess Aether. I shook my head. His surprise at the end of the day would be cold comfort. For the foreseeable future, a sadistic bastard who wanted me dead had me completely under his thumb.
I walked towards one of the miners who didn’t instantly seem to dislike me. “The Verndari sent me here. Where do you want me?”
“You will need to ask one of the hærlið.” He motioned to a tall Ættar overseeing a group of miners.
“Thanks.”
I headed in the direction he pointed. The cave’s walls, once lit in the eerie blues and greens cast by the radiant gems, now blended with the shadows, their details lost. The only light came from light stones. In a few short days, the crew had stripped the glittering cave. Assuming Dorian hadn’t oversold the risk of explosive chain reaction, it spoke to the Ættarsk ability to handle hard and precise work.
I headed toward a single Ættar who stood out among the rest. He had a broad frame lined with lean muscles. As I approached, I could make out strands of grey in his long, dark green hair. His tattered tunic hid much of his Marks but not the scars lining his arms. Even compared to many of his brethren, he sported a significant number. A grizzled veteran.
My footsteps on the gravel strewn across the floor from the excavation were loud enough to attract attention. He turned to see who approached. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. “What do you want?”
I halted at a respectful distance. I paused to come up with a way to address him. Not a single Ættar had offered his name. So, I went with the term the other Ættar had used. “Hærlið, the Verndari told me to work in this part of the mining operation. I was then told to speak with you.”
He examined me for a few seconds before glancing towards the entrance, probably calculating if risking the Verndari’s wrath was worth the potentially smaller cut they would receive with me being here. I would have given it to him if I could have escaped to my tunnel. Even if Aether toxicity wasn’t an issue, dealing with them without Dorian was not worth the increased take.
“You have been cutting another tunnel with that Oresian?”
“Yes.”
“We have expanded an opening to allow better access to another part of this cavern. One of my Skjaldveggr is working alone to extend it further. He could use another to give him a break.”
I nodded and headed in the direction he indicated. I walked past a low overhang studded with crystals. The Aether rolled over me, my body practically thrumming from its density. Of course, an area with more crystal left to harvest would have higher Aether concentrations, but it still exceeded my expectations. It took me a second to gain control of the Aether’s malignant effects. The only upside was this density wouldn’t last long. The hærlið had this place filled with as many Ættir as possible. They worked to remove anything valuable. My new partner must have started expanding the cavern as soon as they had cleared a section of the wall.
I walked down a short tunnel, and at its end, a single Ættar toiled away at the stone. He slammed the pickaxe into the stone with practiced ease. He turned towards me before I was even ten feet away. His youth caught me off guard. Even compared to other Ættir, he was big. The tunnel barely had the height to allow him to stand. However, his size belied his youth. His face still hadn’t shed the last vestiges of childhood, a stark contrast to the lean, hard look of the rest of the company. However, he did sport quite a few scars, more than I would have expected for his age.
A rough upbringing? Or was this within the norm for a martial culture?
“I was sent here to give you a break,” I said, forestalling any questions. He only grunted, but he stepped away from the wall. “I am Daniel.”
He only nodded, not providing a reciprocal greeting. He pointed to my pickaxe. “You able to use that?”
It dawned on me that most would consider it useless. “I make it work. I am good to keep lengthening the tunnel. I can take over if you want a break. You want me to keep the tunnel this size?”
“Yes.” Then he walked away to grab something to eat and drink.
I took my wordless dismissal as permission to start. I broke stone. Today’s work was similar to yesterday’s, except that the tunnel was larger. I had also, once again, broken a promise to myself: using raw Aether to power my blows. The salve had done a number on my Mark. Using it to convert Aether to Energy to empower a normal strike sent a wave of pain through my head. I could bypass that limit by drawing raw Aether through my lungs. It took concentration to force the conversion, worsening the already low efficiency I could manage without my Mark. However, I didn’t have a choice. I needed to make a good impression, which meant using raw Aether. I could feel the toxicity building, but I could manage the effects—at least for one day. It was still risky, and once I could use my Mark freely, I would return to avoiding this method of generating Energy.
However, even with all of that, I found a rhythm. It was liberating. I was never one to meditate, but with Energy flowing through my body, I found a strange peace.
“That is dangerous, you know.”
The deep voice of my partner pulled me out of my flow. “What is?”
“Drawing on Aether like that.”
A caring Ættar? It is a day full of surprises.
“Thanks for your concern. It should be, but I have had some experience with it now. I have it under control,” but because he was right, I hurried to add, “For today only, it is a necessary risk.”
He eyed as if weighing the truth of that statement. If positions were reversed, I would have done the same. In fact, during my short career, I had questioned the veracity of many a person’s statements. People lied, especially when they needed something, even if it was to the detriment of something as important as their health. “If you say so. I am going to get a cart. You are making better progress than I expected. We can switch off after I clear this load.”
I went back to work. Despite limiting my Mark’s use, the environment was having an effect—the constant dull ache in my right temple was all the proof I needed. However, I could work through it. What other choice did I have?
What proved harder was resisting the perverse urge to check on my Mark. Smooth skin had turned into a slight bump. Its growth rate was nightmare fuel. Call it what you will, but I had a tumor developing at warp speed on my face.
At least being stuck in a mine without any mirrors made it easier to avoid checking on its growth, not that it had any bearing on my current situation. I was stuck here regardless of what was happening on my face. So, with forced denial in effect, I hunkered down and focused on breaking rock.
The only thing that interrupted my digging was an intermittent hacking cough. The cough did highlight another major difference with working in this tunnel: dust. My impacts were akin to detonating micro-explosive in the rock, and without Dorian’s skill, my strikes created a fine cloud that lingered in the tunnel. I could have lessened them. In fact, I tried, but I only ended up with slightly less dust and a much slower pace. The tradeoff wasn’t worth it. What we needed was better ventilation.
I took a break after a particularly long fit of coughing by the Ættar. “Have you had the [Healers] look at that?”
“Look at what?”
“Your cough.”
“It is not something they would be interested in.”
“It doesn’t sound good.”
“It is nothing.”
“It sure doesn’t sound like nothing.”
“It doesn’t matter. It isn’t enough. I would not dare tax them with something so trivial.”
“Do potions work?”
“Sometimes.”
His answer was far from reassuring. “Well, you at least use a rag to cover your nose and mouth when mining. This dust isn’t good for your lungs.”
“This will clear. It always has before.”
Optimism was all well and good until it wasn’t. However, he wasn’t ready to be pushed further. I, on the other hand, needed to find a cloth in case the Verndari sent Dorian to another company tomorrow as well.
***
I paused my shoveling when the Ættar rested the head of his pickaxe on the ground.
“What’s wrong,” I asked.
“Nothing. This is a good place to stop for the day.”
“You think? We could go further.”
“The wall will be here tomorrow. We’ll shovel the rest of this debris and then meet up with the rest of our team. We did good work today.”
We had carved out quite a distance, but nothing compared to what I did with Dorian. Dorian and I cleared twice this distance in the same amount of time, and the difference wasn’t just because of Dorian. To my surprise, I had much more endurance with a pickaxe than the Ættar. He could channel far more power in a burst, but keeping that pace up drained him too fast.
It persisted even when trading pickaxes. Turned out, the broken pick wasn’t so bad. It was more efficient if it was connected properly. Of course, the connection shifted with each strike. Sometimes, just a little. Sometimes, a lot. I could sort it out with a bit of focus. It had become a game of sorts. However, the Ættar couldn’t manage it.
Did that make me special?
Hard to know when he also couldn’t even detect the most efficient paths to channel Energy through his pick. Of course, that didn’t matter when he could just slam a ton of energy through it at once. Just like with water, apply enough pressure and it will find a way through a membrane. Still, he did have some control. He could focus and direct the Energy he released. Before I took over as primary excavator, he had generated pressure waves that cracked solid rock for feet on end. It was amazing but limited in utility, especially near a cluster of crystals. Here, slow and steady won the race, and he just couldn’t keep that up. With his inability to find channels and lack of control, a small burst of energy generated too much ”friction,” tiring him out far quicker.
“Alright then.” If he wanted to stop, I wasn’t going to object too strenuously.
A cry of alarm came from the other room. My mining partner, pick in hand, was on his way out of the tunnel before I could even take a step toward my pickaxe. Still, I grabbed it from its resting spot against the tunnel’s wall and followed him. After all, the sound could mean only one thing: a monster attack.
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