Chapter 14 - The Mines

North of Penrith, Vanstead Dukedom of Augustein Year 995

The road that led north of Penrith was little more than a few bare patches of ground and trampled grasses. Amara could make out layers and layers of footprints, likely from the mine workers. The path that day, however, was empty save for the two of them.

The grasses grew taller here, and the trees became increasingly dense as they moved deeper into the Arabesque Woods proper. The shade provided a cooling shield against the sunlight, and the wind seemed to blow stronger and freer away from the rows of buildings.

As the two of them walked, surrounding grasses rustled slightly. Every noise seemed amplified in the stillness, and Amara kept her ears peeled to the sounds of nature around them as she took in the surroundings. Isolde, in comparison, didn’t seem nearly as amused by the scenery, barely giving their surroundings more than a perfunctory glance.

“The mines should be fairly close by,” Isolde remarked. “Beyond them will be the Warped Forest.” She glanced over at Amara. “Did your old village have mines?”

“Nope,” Amara said plainly. She rested her arms behind her head as she walked, strolling casually beneath the thickening canopy. “Probably a good thing,” she added absentmindedly.

Isolde chuckled. “You may be right about that.” She turned to face forward again as she continued speaking. “Ore mining is hard labor. In smaller places like Penrith, workers typically don’t even receive licenses.”

Amara raised an eyebrow, glancing the woman’s way. “That so?” She’d heard some of the watchmen mention it, but Winrow was relatively remote, so there’d never been anyone to confirm it with. If anything, the villagers tended to look at neighboring towns with mostly jealousy, because almost all of them had better access to ore than they did, especially Magrath.

Isolde nodded. “Further south, there aren’t as many mines, but people will usually receive laborer licenses and some ore rations to help their work,” she said simply.

“Probably still sucks, though.”

Isolde hummed in agreement.

The two continued walking in silence. The further into the forest they moved, the louder the rustling of leaves sounded around them. There weren’t as many animal sounds as Amara would’ve expected though, she noted. Only a few occasional bird calls. The animals, too, might be leaving the area as the Warped Forest approached.

As they continued down the path, Amara would occasionally glance over at Isolde. The woman walked with a fluid grace even when they passed by rougher parts of the road, shoulders relaxed. She kept her eyes facing forward as she moved, her dark hair swaying behind her. Amara briefly wondered if Edith’s hair would’ve looked like that if she’d grown it out, then pushed the thought aside. Edith would never be interested in long hair to begin with, she thought.

“Up ahead.” Isolde’s voice interrupted Amara’s thoughts. She turned to face forward, following Isolde’s gaze.

Ahead of them, the trees thinned into a clearing covered with trampled grass and heaped rocks. The ground sloped into a hill, and carved into its face was a simple opening bordered with worn planks of wood. From where they stood, even in the sunlight, nothing could be seen through the inky darkness emanating from the entrance’s interior. As expected, no workers were around, and a few old, dirt covered carts filled with small and large piles of stones stood abandoned near the mine entrance.

The stones themselves, from what Amara could see, were painfully mundane. Simple matte greys in varying shapes. Her eyes swept the rest of the clearing, but there wasn’t anything else of note, just more mounds of moved dirt and shifted stones forming little hills around the mine entrance. A perpetual sheet of dust hung in the air, further dulling the colors of the area.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

“Well that’s disappointing.”

Isolde smiled amusedly. “Were you expecting something else?”

Amara shrugged and stepped closer. “Eh, I was hoping it’d look a little more ‘mystical’ at least.” She gestured vaguely with her hands.

A place like Winrow only had small amounts of magic ore, usually already added to devices like the heating sphere she’d bought for Colm. The watchmen purchased their ore from neighboring cities, and even then, they still rarely used it unless it was a dire emergency. The stuff was expensive, and no one wanted to use magic if they could avoid it. Anything to stave off the inevitable consequences of reduced magic reserves.

The one time Amara had seen someone actually use magic ore during a fight was during the major Aberration attack a few years ago. Leila had gripped the stone pendant that hung from the necklace she was always wearing, and after a few seconds, it had begun to glow a deep green that mimicked the shade of Leila’s own aura. The watchman’s markings had climbed up her arms, and even her eyes had seemed to glow slightly with magic as she’d dashed forward, blade in hand, bolstered by motion magic and moving many times faster than an average human should be able to.

When she’d removed her hand from the pendant again, the stone had still shone lightly with her lingering green aura before eventually fading back to its usual mundane state, though even when it was grey and plain, it still gleamed when it hit the light.

Leila’s magic that day had shone brighter and more beautifully than Amara had ever seen it before, she remembered. The mine in front of her was comparatively plain, but then she supposed the actual ore would probably be further inside. No one was foolish enough to leave carts of ore out in the open. Not that Amara was particularly experienced in knowing how to distinguish unactivated magic ore from regular stone to begin with, she thought.

Footsteps sounded behind her, and Amara turned to see Isolde had also moved closer. The other woman was currently leaning over one of the carts of rubble and frowning down at it, a strand of dark hair just barely grazing the pile. After a moment of pause, she reached down with one of her gloved hands, carefully removing one of the stones and rolling it around in her palm before setting it back down. Amara watched the action closely, her eyes lingering on the gloves.

“Not what you’re looking for?” She spoke casually.

Isolde straightened, smiling simply. “I wanted to check if the directions I received from Wallace were accurate. It seems they were.” She stepped away from the carts, dusting off her clothes and gloves.

Amara raised an eyebrow. “That’s it?” She grinned. “You know, if you’re gonna lie, you could make it less obvious.”

Isolde didn’t react to the statement, that same calm smile ever present. “I didn’t think I was terrible at it,” she remarked.

“Nah. Like, body language wise, you’re pretty good.” Amara gestured vaguely. “Doesn’t matter if what you’re saying is obvious bullshit, though.” She cocked her head, taking in Isolde’s relaxed demeanor. “To be fair, I’m guessing you weren’t trying that hard just now.”

Isolde chuckled. “You seem oddly happy that someone is being deceitful to you.”

Amara shrugged, an easy grin still resting on her features. “Hey, I think you’re interesting. Helps that you look a lot like someone I know.” She pointed at her arms and the layers of scars, raising an eyebrow. “I’m guessing it’s the same for you, right?”

Isolde hummed. “Perhaps so.” She brushed some of her hair aside. “Well, if we’re in agreement, I suppose you’re not opposed to continuing forward. You wished to see the Warped Forest, correct? It should be further north of here.”

She nodded at Amara, who studied her closely. Neither one of them displayed any outward tension or aggression, as if through some unspoken mutual agreement, they understood that whoever did so first would lose.

Finally, Amara nodded and straightened, gesturing towards the road. “Lead the way,” she said.

Isolde smiled and stepped onto the path, and after watching her a bit longer, Amara followed.

The moment her feet touched the road again, her eyes narrowed. Amara’s head jerked to the side, facing west.

The sounds of the forest, which had been muffled while they stood in the clearing around the mines, had returned, but a new, unfamiliar noise was layered on top of it. Leaves rustled and branches snapped in a slow, methodical rhythm. The wind stilled. The birds went silent. Amara silently reached for the knife holstered in her belt. From the corner of her eye, she could see Isolde similarly tense up.

Amara’s eyes scanned their surroundings, but even as the sounds grew louder, steadily approaching, she could make out no movement within the trees. Her fingers flexed around the knife’s handle, tightening, loosening, and then tightening again.

Snap!

A dark shadow darted across the ground. Amara only just had time to jerk her head up before the Aberration descended down on them.