Matthias believed that if there was such a thing as a central theme in one’s life, his theme would be disappointment. He was the shortest of his family, even shorter than his own mother and far smaller than his towering brother and father. He was reminded of this whenever they went to visit him in Vyris. He was noticeably pasty and lacking in muscle. His white hair with only the slightest bluish tint ran in the family, but while his family often kept long manes of hair, his own was kept short to not interfere with any of his work, which they also hated.
All his life, Matthias had been criticized for being disappointing, which didn’t stop even when he had qualified for the Imperial College and spent his years there working up to be a magore researcher. He’d been born with an attunement which he never studied to use and didn’t care about except for the fact that it let him interact with magore more easily. His brother had gone into the military, so he decided he should one up them by becoming part of the group of people who create the technology the military relies on.
Was it petty? Absolutely. Did it make Matthias feel the slightest bit better about himself? Also absolutely.
He studied, and got fine enough grade to catch the eyes of the research departments at the capital studying new ways of using the substance and improving its refinement. Under the tutelage of an older researcher, one who still remembered and fantasized about the glory days of the empire and the researchers of years long past, Matthias was stuck as a note taker.
He carried around a notepad and simply jotted things down from other people’s experiments. He got to do none of his own research. He merely jotted down the ideas of people who were, or believed they were, smarter than him.
He was but a tool to other people, just like he had always been in his life. The job carried prestige, but not within the important circles. Not within the circles that would let him eventually start to do his own research. He wasn’t even jotting down such things for himself. Over the years, he’d trained himself to have a near perfect memory.
That meant he remembered not only every detail of research, but every single jab and slight thrown at him by those who believed they were better.
Matthias especially remembered the day when the esteemed Emperor Arlin visited the lab to check up on their research. He’d seemingly memorized all of the names of the people working on the project, even those who were but junior researchers. And when the Emperor finally greeted him, he called him Mark.
Out of every single Arlinian, the Emperor who was well known for remembering the names of his citizens, called him Mark.
And for the next six months, every single other person he worked with called him Mark. By month four, Matthias started to weigh the costs and benefits of regicide.
That was, at least, until he got the order that he was sent out to study the magore in Corith, something he’d been interested in for a while. Field research inside of mining operations was uncommon, although he had only heard half of the reason.
His old mentor’s rather rambling response explained that the process of attaining and refining magore was not for the faint of heart, so to speak. Apparently it had shattered the minds of several bright researchers with valuable futures.
He’d naturally heard stories and knew about Arlin’s usage of slave labor. His family, while not extremely wealthy, did take ownership of a house servant a family friend had apparently lost use for. They eventually sold the woman to pay for a part of Matthias’s tuition at the college, something which they often reminded him of whenever he talked about his time there.
The mining slaves were, of course, far different. He’d known to expect that, and had braced both his mind and stomach for such imagery. He took a long trip to eventually land at Corith’s capital city, Freiweld where the largest was located. It was barely qualified to be called a capital, being a ramshackle mix of outdated Corithian housing and the creep of far better Arlinian infrastructure.
The mining operation took up a portion of the capital, with another portion being taken up by a large refinery complex. There was a local research team there as well who he met up with, and turned out to be surprisingly polite. They were glad to indulge his interests and shared in much of his fascination about how raw magore forms and how it can be detected in the future.
Matthias himself had a theory that there was actually far more magore underground than previously imagined, and believed that Corith held the answer to proving that theory.
He saw the camp there, and understood rather well why it might break the minds and stomachs of some researchers. It was unjustifiably brutal and inefficient, but he had no reason to get himself into that. After all of the abuse in his life, Matthias was rather good at dissociating from such things.
The issue was, the mine had a tad too much going on for him to do successful research. He was sent off to another location within Corith to do research there, a camp in the purest terms. And he hated it. He’d heard of the so-called “rules of the forest” back at Freiweld from the research team, who treated them with a bizarre level of gravitas. He didn’t trust them at first, until he got slapped when he tried to brush them off by the same person he was happily conversing with.
After hearing the stories, and learning the rather fascinating tales from the locals, he decided it was best to follow the rules of the forest. Half of them sounded like basic survival advice, so it wasn’t that much of a stretch.
And then, when Matthias finally got to the camp, he started to become disillusioned with Corith. The guard was rude, treating him as a greenhorn. Constant teasing would apply. Then, after a month had passed, he was now hearing about some rebel group going around liberating camps.
He assumed they would be struck down by Arlin’s might, and when the reserve troops arrived back at the camp he felt affirmed in that belief.
Matthias just wanted to continue his work and study the mines, but every time he took inside he was watched like a bumbling toddler by the guard.
As he was doing one of his research endeavors into the mine’s structure, he felt it reverberate through him.
FIRE
He’d heard that the forest could sometimes speak, but he surely didn’t think it was so loud. Least of all, he didn’t think it could infiltrate one’s own thoughts. His researcher mind, much to his chagrin, went alight with fascination at how such a thing could occur. The guard near him panicked, running around trying to search for something he didn’t know. The guards in their protective suits bumbled about, struggling due to how clunky the outfit was.
They told him to stay put, as he was safe thanks to his attunement. A few other guards remained to watch over the slaves, shouting that they should continue work despite the fact that the forest had just wrenched its way into their minds. He scanned the room, worried about his own safety.
His eyes landed on a guard, whose face and body was obscured by the protective suit. He looked somewhat off, his body starting to shake in an unnatural manner before collapsing to the ground.
A few seconds later, the guard’s burner was grabbed by a slowly forming hand. Matthias thought it might be a trick of the mind, but as more of the body formed, he realized that he was looking upon another real, tangible person.
Under scraggly unkempt brown hair, two oak colored eyes glared daggers at Matthias. Before he could react or say something, the individual had already pulled back on the rod and shot a beam right through another guard off to Matthias’s left. He wanted to run, but his body remained frozen in place as the individual, seeing another guard, raised up his left hand and blasted out a blinding white light. Matthias’s eyes hadn’t recovered by the time he heard another burner shot be fired, but once they did, the individual was near him.
Wearing nothing but heavily torn clothes, which only had the slightest resemblance to a guard outfit, they looked down on Matthias despite the two being near the same height.
He couldn’t react as a fist launched into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him and leaving him on the floor, struggling to breathe. His notepad clattered to the ground next to his head.
“Stay down,” said an emotionless, but oddly young voice, “And pray the rest of these people don’t kill you.”
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I smiled as I looked down upon the man, who I could now say with a bit of confidence was a researcher. He wasn’t an apparent threat, although he had an attunement. The fact that he was about the same size as myself was something I hadn’t noticed at first, and was actively trying to ignore.
I surveyed the area around me and saw the slaves watching me with curiosity in fear, hearing and feeling the same amount of ire that I had. My sneaking into the mine was helped by the fact that all of the guards were in a panic, trying to find where the sinner was and a position to hold. I’d only heard the rumblings of the forest by the time I’d stepped inside, and was thankful for that.
Even as I stood still, looking at all of the slaves, I could feel the ground quake under the wrath of the forest and its denizens. My bet on whether or not the magore radiation would protect us was about to be tested
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“People! I’m with the rebel group freeing camps. If you’re trained with your attunement, come to me to have your cuff unlocked, but please stay inside the mine. This is currently the safest place in the camp.” I loudly announced, trying to handle the amount of confusion.
Slowly, tepidly, a few came forward from their spots, pickaxes clattering to the ground and their eyes transfixed on the key I held in my hands. One of them, who looked like a slightly taller version of Sera, came up first and allowed me to lean down to the cuff. Her skin color and eyes were the same as mine, although her hair had some soft red tints flowing inside of the brown. As the cuff toppled to the ground, she stretched her arms and legs, apparently feeling more liberated.
Is she like Mell?
I took a quick glance down at the currently debilitated Arlinian, who appeared to be more frustrated than angry. In a moment of quick thinking, I took the cuff I’d just removed and, after pulling up the pant leg of the man, placed it on him.
He might have wanted to say something, but with the wind knocked out of him and a sensible fear of death, I doubted much would happen.
“You a Corithian, little rebel?” The Sera-like woman asked as I went to unlock more cuffs. Behind the already existing line, more of the slaves had dropped their tools and joined in. I gritted my teeth at the words ‘little rebel’, but didn’t feel it was worthy of a retort.
“Yes. I’m North, son of Marlisle. And you?” I answered, still unlocking cuffs in the meanwhile.
“Deborah, daughter of Freiweld. So, you just come here to recruit? Because the guards were bragging a week ago about how they massacred your entire entourage.”
I shrugged, trying not to act irritated despite the fact that I was very much getting irritated. The event had been horrific, and I refused to joke about it.
“I would like to continue our liberation efforts, so more numbers would be appreciated.” I said, only taking brief looks at the actual people whose cuffs I was unlocking.
Outside, the rumbling was growing louder and louder as the forest’s rage descended upon the camp. I forcefully shoved the thought of Weiss out of my mind, knowing that he would probably not want me to get bogged down by remorse.
“And I’m assuming the situation outside is your fault?” Deborah inquired. I gave a quick nod, looking up to see that nearly everyone had stopped working. A younger slave had gone up to the collapsed researcher and poked him with the handle of their pickaxe, causing him to wince.
I wanted to feel bad for the guy, but his uniform stifled any of that desire.
Deciding to ignore Deborah, I turned up my focus to the rest of the slaves who had now gathered around. Although I’d requested only those who had fighting ability for the moment, it seemed that everyone had just wanted their cuff removed. It was a perfectly fine way to use up the time, as I ordered a few of the earlier ones who had gotten theirs unlocked to watch the mine entrance to see if anything came in. I offered it to Deborah, both because she seemed competent and I wasn’t in the mood to be belittled.
The rumbling had grown louder, and I could make out the occasional screams coming from outside. I’d had enough of Corith to know not to look and only go out once it was over.
“Thank you Weiss.” I said quietly.
I continued unlocking cuffs, passively listening to conversations and greeting those who came up to me or gave thanks. It was a chaotic moment in all of their lives, so I understood their confusion.
That was one of the ramifications of being a slave to Arlin I’d come to realize and occasionally think about from time to time. The routine of it all. It felt off and bizarre whenever one broke it. They were probably experiencing that same sort of whiplash now that the entire system of order their life had been forced into was broken, literally being ripped to shreds up above ground.
It took a few more minutes to have all the cuffs unlocked, and once I did, I could see the man on the ground had regained his ability to breathe and was giving me a look of sheer terror.
“Just a suggestion, but you should probably decide sooner than later what you put more value in; your Arlinian pride or your life.”
“Life.” The researcher croaked.
“Smart choice” I grinned, walking off to the group coalescing near the entrance to the mine.
“Anyone who thinks they can competently fight, I’d like you to stick with me.” I declared, having to raise my voice to be heard above the rumbling outside, “We’re going to be looking out for stragglers. If you see anyone you don’t recognize wearing a heavily worn guard uniform, that’s probably one of my friends.”
I got a couple nods, and was surrounded by several grizzled men and women who were obvious prisoners of war shoved into the mines. Deborah was among them, although she didn’t act any more familiar with me than the rest.
I conversed with a few others, learning about the recent events at the camp after our group collapsed. The force that had supposedly killed all of us had been sent by the governor to protect the road to the camps. They’d gone back to the camp to rest and planned to eventually leave and go back to Freiweld.
The devastation outside continued, hidden from view as we stayed away from the exit to the mine. Thoughts of Weiss fighting filled my mind, knowing the horrors that he was facing just to make sure I lived another day.
Eventually, the sounds began to slow. The chaos above turned into ordered uniform steps that got quieter and quieter, until no sound could be heard.
It was dead silent as I pushed open the entrance to the mine and looked at where a mining camp once was.
There was no barrier or building left standing. All of the tents had collapsed, and every wooden or metal building had been torn to shreds. The camp was built upon the desecrated corpse of a village, and now it too was a husk.
“Weiss…”
The refinery workers. The penal laborers.
“Check for survivors!”
I bolted forward through the camp, my eyes scanning each and every bit of rubble for movement. There were dozens of dead animals mixed in with the rubble, murdered in a variety of ways by those trying to survive above ground. The forest’s rage should have only been doled out to others in consequence to them protecting Weiss. At least, that was what I thought.
The only people who I thought would die were those who actively attacked the forest in self defense, not just those inside. We’d been spared because we’d separated ourselves from the conflict and been protected by the magore, so I had assumed it would apply to those inside the refineries.
Except, the refineries had been torn apart just like the rest. They still stood upright, but were punched with holes and missing doors. There was no way the ire of Corith didn’t go inside and slaughter them too.
Standing in the remnants of town square, my fist was clenched so hard I could feel my own nails digging into my skin. The miners had survived, but that appeared to be at the cost of everyone and everything else.
I looked out at the forest, stupidly expecting an answer from something which has refused to be understood since the beginning. If I hadn’t carried the naive hope that some of the innocents might be spared from the wrath of the forest, there was a chance I wouldn’t have gone along with the plan to begin with.
The slaves off in the distance were taking a breath of fresh air for the first time in years, finally getting to stretch and not have to think about work just for the briefest moment. They had a life, after living without one for so long.
I felt suffocated as the weight of my actions bared down on me. I knew that the rest of my group would tell me that this is natural, that there are bound to be losses in warfare. Innocents will die on the path to victory, and that I shouldn’t let this stop me.
It wouldn’t stop me, but I’d be damned if it didn’t churn my guts.
As it became clear that the camp was empty and the miners were now entirely free, I could see them moving towards me in a group, a mix of smiles and tears. I held back the thoughts as best as I could and greeted them, listening to them talk while taking occasional glances out to see if the rest of my crew had arrived. After a few minutes, I saw Alex and Ruby pop out and scan the surroundings.
Alex seemed to have accepted the situation, but as my gaze met with Ruby, she looked similarly shocked at the destruction. Maybe it reminded her of Bir and the horrors that occurred there.
“It’s over?”
“Yeah, Alex. The camp is free.” I dejectedly responded, still unsure of what to feel at the moment. His hand landed on my shoulder, and we stood together simply looking out at what was left of our spoils.
“His name was Weiss.”
“What?” Alex asked.
“Wanderer. His real name was Weiss. He wanted us to remember him by that.”
“Oh.”
It was a heavy name that carried such an apparently grievous sin it was considered best left forgotten. Alex stood there in solemn silence as the two of us tried to meld the man and the name together in our minds. I hoped the others would do the same. It was what Weiss deserved.
“We won, North. “ Alex tried to console me.
“I know. I just wish we could have won more.”
Alex sighed, pulling on my shoulder to force me to look at all of the freed slaves.
“It’s why wars happen. Everyone just wants to win more. Anyone who believes they can have it all will always end up with nothing. But if you want to be a good leader, you need to know what is and isn’t possible to win. If you can’t do that, all you will be doing is proving Silva right about you.”
With my jaw starting to unhinge, I twisted my gaze to him and found the comfortable and familiar smile he wore back at the camps whenever he tried to reassure people that the future was going to be alright. Optimism radiated off of him like mana from a piece of magore.
“You’re siding with me over Silva?”
“No, I’m putting my belief in you. Belief that you can prove my doubts wrong and become a better leader than I originally thought you could. I know you can. Prove it to me. To them. You already know the first step.”
A glint made itself out in the rubble, a metal sheen that I was familiar with. Weiss’s blade, lifted out of the dirt by a curious miner who had no idea they were carrying the tool of a great warrior.
I would have felt frustration or sadness at the sight of such an item before now. With Alex’s words in mind, I just felt a sense of overwhelming respect. The part of me that thought I had made a mistake by allowing Weiss to decide his own death finally became quiet.
“I need to focus on things that I can save, and not the things that I can’t.” I answered with resolve.
“There you go. Manage that, and Arlin doesn’t stand a chance.” Alex’s optimism was starting to break through the cracks as my mind turned towards the future.
“So, what’s next?” Ruby interjected after watching our banter.
I thought for a moment, scratching on my cheek in a knowing imitation of Alex, which caused him to chuckle.
With nothing left stopping us and a noteworthy opening of time before we had to start moving, I could only think of one answer to that question.
“Let’s go swimming.”