The Arlin Empire was many things, but one word that could define a lot of aspects of the nation was desire. Desire for growth, desire for technology, and desire for power. It was a somewhat young country compared to its nearby compatriots, having formed out of the alliance of several smaller fiefdoms under a recently exiled prince. Their growth was due to many reasons, but the main one came down to their lust for innovation. To grow it needed to become better than those near it, to explore the world and find new methods of bending its natural foundations to their whim. And it found it within a simple stone that would turn the world on its head.
Magore. Pure, solidified mana, pressurized underground as a source of energy. To most, it was only known as poison. Simply being near it for most people was enough to damage them with the mana that resonated off of it, overloading their bodies with the lifeblood of the universe. But to the fledgling nation, they saw it as a stepping stone. Harnessed in the correct forms, it could power technology unfathomable in decades prior, giving life to machines and tools once thought to be in the realms of dreams and nightmares. For those outside of Arlin, it remained just as much of a poison as ever, slowly rotting away their borders and encroaching on their cores. Thus, a nation powered by desire now entered the world stage with the tools to bend everyone to their will and spread like a cancerous tumor.
Their conquests were not without their benefits. The natural resources of those surrounding them were plentiful, and new sources of magore were found all over. Those who resisted were forced to face down a power rapidly advancing in both literal and figurative terms. Arlin grew more and more, the times when it had been only a collection of fiefdoms a footnote in its history.
Yet the problem still remained that magore, despite its utility, was poisonous in its unrefined form. Those who had resistance were those with affinity for utilizing the natural mana of the world. Mages were not extremely uncommon, but many of the wars that had just been fought utilized them in numbers. Those who were left were either prisoners of war or youth who were just coming into their power. With their newly acquired human resources, the Empire of Arlin now had a much better method to continue their steady growth and consumption of magore.
Slaves.
***
There was a loud crack as the pickaxe finally broke apart the rock. I grabbed it off the floor and took a moment to look it over, squinting my eyes slightly. Even in smaller fragments, uncovered magore gave off an energy that felt like being hit with a wave. Staring at it for long periods made that sensation even worse, so I tried to keep my visual contact with the material as limited as possible. The slight glimmer was enough to tell me that I had aimed for the right spot and hadn’t broken off too much of it for it to be hard to refine. If I had enough energy for it in my face, I would probably have smiled. As I turned to place the mined chunk in the basket sitting next to my feet, I looked around the cave.
If you removed the guards, the stench, the constant sound of picks hitting stone and the slaves, it would probably be a somewhat beautiful sight. The light of the torches combined with the soft glow given off by the magore that lined the walls of the cave gave it an almost dream-like atmosphere. The roof expanded upwards, creating a dome like shape with occasional stalactites hanging from above. In the morning, before work started, you could hear the water slowly dripping off of them and hitting the cave floor. According to Elric, the cave probably formed like this after the magore condensed as the energy pushed away the earth, creating this underground expanse. I never really took much interest in admiring the view, but this day felt slightly different.
As I turned back to the wall to continue breaking away at it, a loud whistle blew throughout the air and all attention turned to a raised platform farther back within the cave.
“Dinner! Get your asses moving!”
There was a symphony of groans as we all started moving towards the exit, climbing up the scaffolding while lugging the baskets over our shoulders. The cuffs that stopped us from using mana rattled at our ankles, occasionally clanking against each other or the metal railings. The guards along the path, covered head to toe in what looked like the most cumbersome armor possible, slightly backed away as we passed them. The armor wasn’t for physical protection. From what I could tell, most of the guards lacked magical aptitude and had to wear protective gear in order to not get poisoned. It definitely helped, but it was clear that most of them looked slightly sick by the end of their shifts. It wasn’t something I felt pity for.
As we walked out, I had to take a moment to allow my eyes to shift to the change in lighting. It was a sensation I had gotten used to, so it was over rather quickly. As we walked, we placed down our baskets onto a platform near a large, dense container meant to ship the material off to be refined. I took a moment to let my eyes slowly wander over to the camp and let out a deep breath. I had been staying at this location for almost 2 years. It was not my first location, but it was the one which I had been stationed at the longest. After all, it was 5 years ago I had been declared a slave to the empire.
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***
“How exactly do you find the right spots? I’ve been trying your advice, but I can’t really get it to work.” Sera said, muffled by the slice of bread she had recently shoved in her mouth. Her brown hair was starting to get in the way of her face and was a few inches from dipping directly into soup. Its brown color was more of a suggestion, as the residual dust inside the caves had darkened almost everyone’s hair, including my own. My hair was a similar shade to hers, although I presumed it was slightly lighter.
The cafeteria was the only place in camp which could regularly be described as “lively”. It was true that the majority of us felt half dead, some more than others, but the presence of food and freedom from the confines of the dark underground gave some levity. Sera and Elric both sat across from me at the small table, taking our time going through the food. The soup they had given us today was edible, and the bread wasn’t as hard as it had been last week. It was an improvement, albeit a meager one.
“I think I told you last time, you look for the areas that are slightly warped. They have little bends in them, like this.” I responded, holding up my bread and attempting to put a slight bend in it. Instead of bending, the bread simply snapped into two pieces and left me without a visual aid. Elric let out a soft chuckle while Sera looked at me, still perplexed.
“North, you realize that you’re kind of terrible at explaining things.”
“What, were you expecting a full lecture? I don’t know, I just sort of have a feeling for it.”
Elric took a break from his soup to interject. “Some people just have a sense for these types of things. I mean, it doesn’t matter much. It’s not like it puts North in good favor with the guards or anything.” He mumbled the last part, giving a side glance to the other side of the tent.
I turned my head to see Elm having what looked to be a fairly casual conversation with one of the guards. His salt and pepper hair were distinct in the camps for the fact that the majority of the people here were young. Living long enough to start to have gray hair was considered a luxury. Most of the slaves considered him somewhat of an elder, a source of advice and was the most common point of contact between us and the higher ups at the camp. My conversations with him were limited, although most of them tended to be as a form of scolding rather than anything menial. Slightly angry appeared to be his most common state of being. From what I could tell, he didn’t hate me, which was enough for me to not hate him as much in turn. Elric was not as fortunate as myself, which caused a heavy distaste for the man to brew over our time here.
“Elric, relax. It’s not like we can change that. He might be a tad bit aggressive towards you, but at least he’s consistent.” Sera said, hoping to calm down Elric.
“And Elm’s the closest thing we have to a voice with the guards. Even if he’s a traitor, as you say, I think the majority of the people here trust him… a bit.” I patted him on the shoulder, hoping to give him some level of comfort.
Elric sighed before going back to eating what was at least passable soup. All in all, it was a fairly mundane dinner.
***
The bunks were quieter than usual. The building which contained them could best be described as an oversized shack, made up mostly from rotting wood and shoddy replacements whenever a large part of it broke. The bunks upon which we slept were tightly packed next to each other, giving barely enough room to sit up as long as you bent your neck down. All that we wore were the day garments they had given to us for when we weren’t in the mines. There was nothing specifically given to us for nights. It was a luxury they refused to afford.
It was a sad fact that I couldn’t remember what an actual bed felt like at this point. I stared up at the wood above and let out a quiet sigh. Those days were long past, and I had no way to return to them. The Arlin Empire had a large amount of slaves, but they were very intent on making sure that they got as much usage out of them before they keeled over. Magore was poison, no matter what. It might not be killing us directly, but the mana that radiated off of it would scratch at our basic foundations constantly. Compared to those who got mana sickness from not having a strong enough constitution, I was blessed. However, freedom was not one of those blessings. I couldn’t do anything. I was trapped in a cage which was specifically designed to utilize our bodies until we couldn’t do any more work. Anyone who wasn’t part of Arlin’s grand scheme was trash to move aside. It was a stupid, juvenile desire, but I wanted change. Something, anything to change.
I slowly started to drift off, the sight of the bunk above my head fading in my vision. As my eyes began to close, I started to see a warm glow in my periphery. It was too soft to be a lantern, but it was close to me. I leaned my head up to look and saw that the light was radiating from my left hand. I slowly raised my body up, careful not to bang my head as I brought my palm closer to my face. The light radiating from it felt like the last embers of a candle. As I stared, I muttered three words that I never expected to say.
“I have magic.”
I quickly looked down to see if the cuff was still attached to my ankle and if it was still working. Low and behold, it was still there, the runes on it still giving off the faintest sickly blue hue. Yet somehow, I was able to create a miracle of light. This was it. This was the path forward. I could see it and knew that this had to mean something, anything about the future. Whether I understood it or not, I was on the precipice of freedom, the edge of a world beyond.
And it was most likely going to get me killed.
I turned to my right to find two deep blue eyes staring directly into my soul.