Nave sat on the ground in pain.

'That could've gone worse.' He thought.

He was somewhat used to bullying, having been smaller most of his life until recently. He rarely left his small house, so he didn't have to deal with it often. 'Thank God for growth spurts.'

Then he had a thought he didn't like.

'I wonder how tall my dad is.'

Quickly shaking his head to rid himself of such thinking. 'He doesn't deserve me thinking about him. He's caused us so much pain.'

His father had abandoned them, leaving his mother to survive in this ruthless place all on her own. The only thing she had to survive on was her magic, thankfully.

He got up and headed towards the area where the pickaxes were, grabbing one and heading towards the branch he would be in.

KLINK KLINK KLINK

As he made it in there he heard the sound of pickaxes and finally took a good look at the cave system he was in. It was bedazzled with purple ore all along the sides and the roof. All the ore on the floor had been mined already.

He actually knew very little about his mom's job since she hated talking about it.

He had to take his time due to being in pain so by the time he got there everyone else had already started working. He had to hurry up or he would lag behind.

On his person, he had a pickaxe, a helmet to protect from falling rocks, a satchel around his neck to collect the ores he mined, and a cloth he took from home around his face to protect from dust. He wouldn't make the same mistake as his mother. If he happened to mine a lot and needed something bigger to carry his load he could grab a wagon. He'd doubt he'd need it anytime soon.

He found a free spot and began to get to work.

Only to realize he didn't know what he was doing.

He knew how to swing a pickaxe, obviously, but he had never done any physical labor in his life. He had never done any labor in his life.

'This is way harder than I thought it would be.' Nave thought as sweat dripped off his body.

He hadn't even finished mining a single piece of ore and he was already exhausted.

He dropped his pickaxe and bent down to put his hands on his knees. As he caught his breath he looked to see if the people next to him were doing better than he was.

He looked to his left and saw a man with what looked to be around 3 pieces of ore in his sack.

'He did have a head start, I can't be too hard on myself'.

Turning to his right he saw a man that looked to have 8 pieces of pyr in his bag.

Nave's eyes opened wide, 'What kind of a freak are you?'

Shaking his head he realized he didn't have time to sit around.

He needed to at least show that he was working even if actually working wasn't a part of his plan.

He continued chipping away at the stone around his ore, finally, it fell to the ground.

KLUNK

"YES!" He exclaimed excitedly.

He hurriedly dropped his pickaxe and picked up his prize to closely inspect it.

It was a bright purple, it felt warm, it was the size of three of his fists, surprisingly light, and to the touch he felt some form of a pattern on it but he didn't have the time to study it more. Sergei was coming around to check on everyone's progress.

'Guess it's as good a time as any.'

The real reason he got a job at the mine was of course to make money, due to his mother's death he no longer had a source of income. But also to practice his illusions. Due to his neglect of his skills, he wasn't very good at his magic. Unlike his mother.

Sergei was soon to reach him, so he had to be quick.

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He tossed the pyr into his bag and bent down as if he were just picking up his pickaxe. He hid his face as his eyes glowed green. His hand waved over his bag as an image appeared over it.

The image was simplistic, still, and two-dimensional, which meant that Nave had to be facing Sergei directly. It showed 3 pieces of ore inside of the bag.

'How was mom so good at this?' He thought to himself as he turned to face Sergei just as he arrived near him.

"I was coming over here to bash on you," Sergei began as he looked at the boy sweating a ton, "But for a newbie, I guess you're not doing bad."

Nave was sweating even more than before though it was hard to tell, the image even such a simplistic one took a ton of concentration not only to cast in the first place but especially to keep up.

Trying to make sure that he was as perpendicular to the man as he could be so that the image didn't look strange in any way was hard enough. He also had to keep as still as possible so that he didn't have to alter the position of the image much.

Keeping said image stable took so much concentration he wasn't sure he would be able to have a coherent conversation with the man.

Then he had an idea, a grin appeared on his face.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY!"

Sergei confused as to why he was yelling that loud began to repeat himself, "I was com-"

As soon as Nave perceived him as having opened his mouth he interrupted him, "I CAN'T HEAR YOU. YOU HAVE TO SPEAK UP!"

"It's not that lou-"

"SERGEI, I CANNOT HEAR YOU OVER THE SOUND OF THE PICKAXES, I HAVE TO GET BACK TO WORK!"

Sergei getting angry said, " I am your boss, when I-"

"WHAT!"

Sergei realizing he probably couldn't beat the kid up any more than he already had in one day just bottled his rage up to be released another time.

He turned and started to head away before he lost control of his anger.

Nave watched him with a smile on his face. 'I'm probably gonna regret that later.' he thought.

"Oh well."

He turned around still keeping the image up. He realized that he had to practice as much as possible, the image was two-dimensional anyway so as long as he faced the wall his neighbors shouldn't see anything weird. It wasn't like they were paying attention to him anyway. He could cast an image of a dong on the wall and they would probably start trying to mine it.

Since he could get away with doing less work than others he started practicing his illusions. He never really thought about what he was casting he just pictured what he wanted and it took place. Of course, the images were horrible. That's why he had to distract Sergei, to stop him from focusing on his satchel too much.

He started to analyze the process of creating an image while pretending to mine some ore, not even making contact with the stone.

'When I think about casting a spell a weird energy from inside of me begins to move. I feel it all through my body but mostly in my core. My eyes glow green and it moves towards my hands and when I wave them an image appears then my eyes stop glowing. It's a very strange process. I wonder if I focus on the image and the creation of said image if I can get a higher quality picture. That's probably how mom did it.'

He began to try, he stopped swinging and bent over as if tying his shoes this time trying to cast the spell against the ground. Closing his eyes he sensed the energy coming from somewhere in his stomach flow towards his hands. He felt it somewhat clearly as it arrived at his fingertips. He dragged his hand against the ground.

Picturing a woman with dark hair in a black dress smelling a red rose in a field of black roses. He focused on the picture and the details of the woman specifically. The frills in her dress, her figure, her pale skin, the almost hypnotizing smile on her face, her hair and the few strands that hung freely, and the way her eyes were drawn to that rose like she was looking for something.

An image of a beautiful woman appeared, in greater detail than the image of the bag that he had cast before.

"Yes!" He said to himself.

He had done it, the image was vastly more detailed than the previous one. Like looking at the painting of a child and then looking at the painting of a pre-teen.

'This is still nothing, my mother could create three-dimensional illusions so real you were convinced that they were real.'

If there was one thing he noticed it was how much he liked creating the image, especially when he put that much effort into it.

'It's almost like drawing or painting but instead of using a pencil or paintbrush you use your own special energy.'

The feeling was more pure than anything he had ever felt. Like it wasn't just him making the image as if another part of him he didn't know existed had a hand on the paintbrush.

'That's ridiculous though, just a figment of my imagination. I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it though.' Nave thought.

'I've been down here for a minute, I should get back up.' He thought.

As he was about to dispel the picture he took another look at it. The beauty of the woman inside of it, the way she clutched the rose like her life depended on it.

Another thought he didn't like showed itself. This one hurt more than any other thought he had ever had in his life.

'My mom is dead.'

...

...

...

He stared at the image for a little bit longer.

He stood up with his pickaxe in hand and started to swing again. This time much more fiercely than before.

By his third swing, a tear manifested itself and began to travel down his face. It reached his chin and fell shortly after.

Hitting the ground harder than any pickaxe could.

Shattering the image into a million pieces.