DB Lazarus
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66. Beneath the Surface - II
🕑 Added 2025-04-20 05:04:54 +0000 UTCNote (4/20/25): In working on the next chapter, I realized I needed to make a slight change to the third-to-last paragraph to make how certain skills function a bit more explicit.
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After how our breakfast conversation ended, Dorian and I walked to the mine in silence. I didn’t need the space, but I didn’t mind it either. Despite our talk’s length, we had left early enough to join the morning rush of workers entering the mine. The assortment of Volki, Ættir, and Oresiani and their various Marks made good people-watching, but more importantly, they allowed me to take a cue from Dorian’s childhood: guessing classes and levels based on a person’s Marks. I tried to be discreet—I didn’t need to draw anyone else’s ire—but I judged the risk worth it. Sure, I lacked any way to confirm my guesses, but the game provided more familiarity with how Marks manifested. With Marks’ central role in this world’s societies, I needed a better understanding of them.
However, I couldn’t maintain my focus on the game this morning. Far too many people were coughing. Before, I would have just noted the abnormality. Now, I reached out with [Sense Injury], and information poured into my mind—as did spikes of fire. My vision swam and my stomach churned as searing bolts spread across my forehead. I reeled, then stumbled forward.
Dorian’s hand clamped down on my arm, jerking me back. “Careful.”
Despite his intervention, I still had gotten too close to the Volk in front of us. He looked over his shoulder, eyes narrowed, lips pulled back in a sneer. He studied me with contempt and predatory hunger, but Dorian spoke before things could escalate. “Nothing happened there. No need to cause a scene this early in the morning, my friend.”
The Volk studied Dorian for a second before flashing his sharp canines. “Sure. I can let it go this once…friend.”
He turned away, and things returned to normal, as if nothing had happened at all. Still, we gave the Volk space—or as much space as the line would allow.
“What was that?” Dorian whispered. “I know you are not that clumsy.”
“I don’t know. I used [S—”
“Shh!”
My brows knitted, but then I picked up on the subtle shifts of the people around me. Too many heads had turned to better hear me, all because I was about to name my skill. I needed to be more careful.
I kept quiet until we broke off from the mass to head down our tunnel. Then I slowed to give us more time to speak. “Can we talk now?”
Dorian looked behind him. “Alright, but keep it basic.”
“Fine. I used my skill—”
“The sensory one?”
“Yeah, and it felt like something stabbed me in the eye.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. That is why I am asking you.“
“No. Why did you use it in the first place?”
“Haven’t you noticed how many people are coughing today?”
“What of it? We had another Fel Wind last night. A few people probably got caught up in it.”
“Was it a bad one?”
“Not really, and seeing how last night you were…indisposed, it’s not surprising you slept through it.”
“I don’t know, Dorian. It felt like everyone had something wrong.”
“Just how much can you pick up?”
“Depends, but it can get quite granular when I want. For example, I can tell you have a small abrasion on your left elbow.”
He turned his elbow to look. “Huh, that’s why it was bothering me this morning. How did that happen?” He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. But if you can pick that up, it explains the situation. You got hit with sensory overload. You just don’t have the control.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah. It’s a common phenomenon. It will get better.”
It did make sense. Unless I actively filtered the information provided by my skill, it reported everything Dorian had going on. That abrasion on his elbow was just one of many. Back toward the entrance, I still picked up a plethora of injuries, though they registered as nothing more than a hazy miasma. Now, because of our relative isolation, ignoring everything besides Dorian became trivial. I could take the next step: easily parsing out things not worthy of wasting a potion on.
“But I didn’t have this issue with healing the hærlið.”
“That was before you got the skill, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, there you go. A skill is always more powerful. People can mimic many skills, but they’ll never compare to the strength or efficiency of a skill. What you did then was just plain weaker.”
“If you say so.”
He chuckled. “I do. And trust me, it is better this way. Think about what you are going to be able to do.”
“I guess… So, that coughing?”
“People are coughing.” He paused and pointed back in the direction of the entrance. As if on cue, the staccato sounds of coughs echoed through the cavern. “But I doubt it is as bad as you think.”
“Sensory overload?”
“Yep.”
I sighed, but I didn’t argue. He had a point. I didn’t pick up respiratory illnesses. I had detected injuries. And what did the miners seem to have in abundance besides pickaxes—injuries.
Dorian picked up the pace, and we entered the entrance cavern to our section, where we found the Verndari waiting. He still scowled when he saw me, but when Dorian went to talk with him, he didn’t display outright signs of animosity.
I waited until Dorian returned after finishing his chat with the Verndari. “What’s the plan today?”
“The Ættir will be working in the new cavern for some time. They found a sizable vein. It will take some time to dig it out. However, we both agreed that finding some new deposits would be a good idea. I’d like a few more options than the one we are working on. So, I’m going to spend most of the day scanning for new directions. If I finish that today, I will return to extending our tunnel. Also, if you don’t mind, I want to take the lead with it. Something is off about it.”
I frowned. “That’s not ominous.”
“It may be nothing, but…” He shrugged.
“Wonderful. I don’t mind hauling out debris or crystal. It’ll give me the opportunity to see if anyone needs my skill set.”
That got me a raised eyebrow. “No one looks that bad.”
“That is true, but I can’t imagine everyone is free of wounds. Look at you, you are still sporting a few abrasions. Not to knock your toughness, but the Ættir are on a whole other level when it comes to working through pain. They may look okay, but I want to make sure.”
Mulling over the words, he grew quiet, though he didn’t slow on his way through the main cavern. He zigzagged through debris that had started piling up. It was fine now, but I would need to haul some of it out. Too much more could limit mobility in a fight.
“Well, watch yourself. The Verndari still has his eye on you.”
“I will be fine. Transporting things is well within my duties, and it needs to be done. No, I’m more worried that injured Ættir won’t trust me. Rægnor helps, but even then, I am not optimistic.”
“Hey, I am not arguing with you trying. You need levels, and this is as good a way as any. I would let you heal me, but I am not sure it will help you. It is pretty minimal.”
“Yeah, those scrapes don’t need a potion.“
“You used your skill again?”
“No.” I tapped the side of my head with my mark. “I have quite a memory for anything medical. Besides the elbow, you only have one scrape of any significance.” I pointed to his left torso. “Just keep them both clean, and I am sure it will heal up in a day or two.”
He glanced toward the injury I mentioned, then shrugged. “Sounds good. Thanks. I am going to check down these other tunnels first. They will be easier without the interference from the crystal density in the new strike. I will swing back there after they have mined more of it.”
I waved as he left, and I headed to the new cavern. I had gone a few steps when I stopped and turned. “Dor—“ but he was already down another tunnel
He had just accepted my proclamation about his abrasions. I hadn’t even looked at either. Were skills that trusted? Now that I thought about, had I violated his privacy with [Sense Injury]? Not that HIPAA existed here, but if I found something, would I be expected to keep it secret? HIPAA caused all sorts of inefficiencies, but we had it for a reason. In my years, I had been privy to countless people’s personal information. To not have that at all?
No. They have to have something. They had to. I can’t be the only one with a skill like [Sense Injury].
I grabbed an empty cart and pulled it into the cavern with our recent find. Even prepared, the Aether density verged on overwhelming. I walked through the cave, ignoring a few questioning looks from other Ættir until I reached our group’s section.
Rægnor saw me as I rounded the corner to our section. He shouldered his pick, his surprise evident. “What are you doing here, Daniel? I thought you would be working with Dorian.” His eyes narrowed. “Did he not make amends?”
“He did, not that he needed to, but that isn’t why I am here. The Verndari tasked him with finding more potential veins. I thought I could be more useful here while that happens.”
“You can’t mine here. In fact, I am surprised you are still lucid. If I hadn’t seen you yesterday, I wouldn’t have believed it possible at your tier.”
”It is taking effort, but I am not here to mine.” I pointed to a cart filled with crystal. “Do you need any help with transporting these back? At this point, I think this is the best use of my talents.”
“We do, but what is the real reason? You might not have our strength, especially in this density of Aether, but you can hold your own in a tunnel. I saw you work. You are equal to me in excavating.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “You got me. Transporting is just an excuse. I wanted to check if anyone’s still walking around with significant wounds. I need experience, and our stock of healing potions has to be even lower than before. If I can use my skill, it will be a win-win.”
“Reasonable. And even if no one will take you up on the offer, it is an honorable path. You don’t need to ask the hærlið. I will clear it.” He motioned to a full cart. “Why don’t you take that one and leave me the empty one?” He turned to get back to work but stopped. “And Daniel, if you find anyone with a severe injury that doesn’t want your help, come find me. I can discuss it with him.”
I nodded. That was as good as I could have hoped for.
Rægnor started to return to mining, but I stopped him. “Rægnor, about the last part. Where I am from, we have rules about keeping information about people’s health private. Do you have any rules about that?”
“Why? [Healers] do what they must to keep the tribe strong. Your role here is closest to that.”
“What if I found out…indirectly?”
“It wouldn’t be honorable to share a secret that isn’t your own, but that isn’t what you mean. You’re talking about a skill?” I nodded. “I won’t ask you for details, but I will say, how would they stop you? If it is an active skill, some people at higher tiers can sense if they’re a target. But passive skills? You can’t stop them. You can only limit or obfuscate. It’s expected that others will pick up things. After all, it is hard for anyone to suppress passive sensory skills completely. It is like having another sense. It’s always there. You can ignore it, but shutting it off—similar to closing your eyes—gets uncomfortable quickly. However, you needn’t worry about that. At your tier, you have neither the range nor the power to do much.”
“Right. Of course. Thanks for the info.”
I had managed to keep my tone neutral despite having a range far exceeding Rægnor’s expectation. He nodded and returned to work, leaving me to chew on the information about skills and his complete nonchalance about privacy. Two opposing instincts warred inside me, but in the end, Dorian’s warnings about keeping the nature and detail of my skills quiet won out. As much as I wanted to trust Rægnor, keeping my abilities close to my chest seemed prudent. While I still didn’t have a good handle on what was normal, having the ability to sense injuries from over a football field away might count as a bit of an outlier. As the only Human here, I was already enough of one. I did not need another reason to garner attention.
