— Rapsamash! — the overseer's booming voice echoed through the tunnel's vaults, — Rapsamash Ba Mora Ammadithra! Quickly gather your gear and assist on the third level! The rest of you, prepare to hand in your tools!

A girl, just returned with her group from the mine and leaning on a cart, started. Her black ears, large even by the Taular standards, twitched anxiously.

— But... I just came back from there..., — she looked at the tall, yet very thin congener standing nearby with tired and sad eyes. The miner, almost fruitlessly shaking dust off his thick, brown fur, looked at the girl condescendingly.

— Hold on a little longer, Raps, soon this will be over for you. But for now, hurry up, lest he inadvertently whip you.

Sighing, the girl took her bag with primitive medicines and bandage rags from the cart and hurried back into the depths of the tunnel.

On the third level, as always, there was twilight. Not that it bothered Raps herself, but the overseers didn't like to venture here because of it. What had happened this time?

— Finally! Wouldn't want to spoil the goods right before their sale. What took you so long? There, your uncle suddenly became ill. Go see what's up. Else I'll say to bury him alive right here. One less. And you still breed like cats, right? Ha-ha! — The overseer Kavir greeted her with his characteristic causticity.

A dense and rough leather armor covered his entire plump, bulky body, up to the very chin, hiding his short but wide neck. Oh, how Raps would love to sink her fangs into that neck!

— Go on, get moving! — The overseer barked and demonstratively slapped his hand on the coiled whip hanging on his belt.

The girl knew that if she weren't valuable goods, this whip would be whistling through the air, heading straight for her back. She rushed further into the tunnel, from where the sounds of picks could barely be heard.

Few torches and even fewer oil lamps played with her shadow as she walked further, passing seemingly endless dark branches of the mine. Finally, she saw him — uncle Sangar, or to call his full name — Sangartrassag, who sat with his back against the wall of the tunnel, and put his foot forward. The fur covering his thigh was all smeared with blood. Raps broke into a run.

— Uncle Sangar! What's wrong? What happened? A collapse? — she stopped right at him, pulling out relatively clean bandages from the bag on the go.

— Wait, Raps! What did I say? First — examine the wound! And only then — act! — uncle's voice sounded cheerful. As long as the girl remembered him — he was always like that, even in the darkest tunnels he never despaired, and always served as a reliable support for his congeners. And most importantly — for the wife of his deceased brother, Raps' mother.

— Right! Sorry, I'm on it! — she bent over and carefully touched the bloody leg. The black fur with brown spots was matted from the already dried blood. Raps slowly pushed away the interfering tufts with her thin, with short filed claws, fingers. A deep abrasion opened up to her eyes, which, as it seemed, could well have been left by a pickaxe.

— It's not so bad. Just an abrasion. Deep, yes, but it's ok, I'll...

Before she could finish, Raps felt her uncle forcefully pull her by the hand towards him. Leaning right over her ear, he began to hurriedly whisper.

— Stay calm, just listen, don't say anything. I'll handle the wound myself. What's more important — there, further, where the others are working... They've found something, something important. But there's a problem. Go there quickly, you'll see for yourself, your help will be needed more there.

— But..

— I hit my own leg to get you called. If anything, I'll detain Kavir. And you better go there. Hurry up!

Sangar let go of the girl and leaned back against the wall again. Raps hesitated. Uncle frowned, nodding his head to let her know which direction to go. The girl, carefully placing the bandage rags next to the wounded, uncertainly continued her way further into the tunnel.

The sound of picks was getting louder.

— There she is! Quickly! Over here!

— Raps! Raps!

— Well done Sangar, as he knew!

— All that's left is for the guess to work!

As soon as the miners caught sight of her, they began whispering loudly to each other. Throwing away the pick, one of them jumped up to the girl, roughly grabbing her by the elbow, and dragged her into the branch of the tunnel.

— Sanlad, let me go! It hurts! What are you doing?

— Hush, Raps! I have no time for niceties with you, it's urgent! Can you read the Common? — Sanlad, a grey one-eyed Taular, was pulling her somewhere further into the mine's darkness.

— What the... let go!

— He told you to hush, you little pest! — Unlad's voice echoed in the twilight. Another Taular, as grey as his brother and always picking on the girl for no reason, grabbed her other elbow with his three-fingered hand.

— What are you doing? Let me go!

— Hush! I said hush! — he leaned right into her ear, — We're about to show you something. But I warn you: if you blab about this, if I find out — I won't spare my own skin to take yours off. I don't care who you, your whore of a mother, or her whelp are. Even Sangar won't save you. I'll do such things to you...

— Unlad, enough, she understood, — Sanlad let go of the frightened girl and put his hand on his brother's shoulder, pushing him away from her, — Raps, look over here.

The one-eyed miner began to move a nondescript stone lying on the floor. Right under it, in a recess, lay someone's flattened skeleton. Right next to its outstretched right hand lay a sword. A sword!

— How... What is this? — not believing her eyes, Rapsamash knelt down right in front of the skeleton, marveling at the sword. The skeleton's hand, which must have been gripping the sword, was shattered, and the finger bones were scattered nearby. Around the sword itself, the girl noticed many pickaxe marks.

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— I.. why am I here? — Raps couldn't understand why the cunning brothers had dragged her here. To show the sword? Why not just take it and hide it? Why does she need to be here? Where did this skeleton come from? Whose is it?

— We were lucky to find a weapon. A weapon! You understand? Which can be hidden and not handed over up there. And besides, it's very, very sharp! — the Taular raised his hand. Only now did Raps notice several wide bald patches on his palm.

— The problem is, — Sanlad continued, — that this piece of iron... it can't be lifted.

— And I...

— And you can help us solving this riddle, — Unlad growled, — Don't dawdle, Sanlad, show her.

The one-eyed Taular moved another stone and dusted off some object that reminded Raps of a part of the armor she had seen on the city guards. But this armor had clearly seen better days. It was uncertain whether time had been so unkind to them, or they had been so badly battered by the one who wore them.

— Here, on this piece of iron, there are inscriptions, — Sanlad handed the metal plate to Raps, — The guys said these are written in Common. Someone tried to read, but only knew few of the words. But your mother taught you to read, right? Read what's there. Maybe it will help us.

The girl carefully took the part of the armor handed to her. It was heavier than Raps expected, and she almost dropped it. Seeing this, Unlad quickly jumped up to her, almost poking his clawed finger in her face.

— Don't you dare make a noise, runt! Again, if you blab to anyone — I told you what will happen to you. Especially if you tell your flat-eared friend — then your mother, and her whelp...

— Unlad! — Sanlad loudly scolded his brother.

Raps began to examine the plate. It seemed to be the part that was worn on the chest. On one of its sides, the inner one as it seemed to her, some symbols were engraved. Many symbols. The girl squinted to see them better.

— Do not languish there. I bet your uncle is still lying in the tunnel. And if the fat man appears, we will all go under the axe. Or, even worse, we will end up in the cage, — Unlad did not let up.

Looking at the engraving, Raps began to read. Her mother often read books to her and her sister, and the girl quickly learned this skill herself. She was perhaps the only Taular in the mines who could read in Common.

— "Oh Order's sons, accept this gift,

A shield from Darkness, to uplift.

World's veil you guard, your duty clear,

One for another, hold it dear.

In life and death, your service stands,

A century in battle, across the lands."

The girl ran her hand over the armor, brushing off the remaining dust.

— Is that it? — Unlad impatiently intervened, — What does this even mean? And not a word about how to lift this thing?

— Wait, there's more, I just can't see well...

— It's Sanlad who can't see well! Your orange orbs are still in place! So far!

— Unlad!

Raps swallowed, looking anxiously at the congener who was staring at her, and continued:

— "Remember the world's tide, its wisdom your guide,

Share burdens, find balance, let harmony preside.

Preserve the world's flow, Suiravka, sing,

In balance and harmony, let our saga ring"

Raps finished reading and looked up. The grey-haired brothers were staring at her intently.

— And.. that's it? — even Sanlad seemed a bit surprised.

— Y-yes...— the girl mumbled, looking anxiously at the three-fingered Taular.

— No, no, it can't be. What is this magic? Why can't it be lifted?

The one-eyed brother jumped to the sword, grabbed it with both hands, and began to pull it with all his might. To no avail — the sword did not move an inch.

— What was that? — Unlad got up and came over to the girl again, — What was that word, at the end? Are you sure you read everything right?!

He leaned over, bringing his face close to Raps'. So close that their noses were almost touching.

— Y-yes the symbols are such... I don't know this word either, but..., — trying to back away, the girl stared again at the text engraved on the armor, — Su-i-ra-v-ka. Suiravka! I don't know what that is...

Sanlad made a strange sound, like a stifled exclamation.

— Say that word again! — he stared at the sword, not letting it out of his hands.

— S-Suiravka?

— Here! Look! Unlad! Lo!

— Hush! What's this?

— The sword! It was glowing!

— Have you lost your mind? Is one of your eyes missing?

— But look! Raps, say again

— Suiravka... — the girl also stared at the immovable blade.

To the surprise of all three, it did indeed glow slightly. Not the blade itself, but the runes on it. Barely discernible, even in the darkness of the mine. They looked at each other.

— It... it works.

— What works, your crazy head? You still can't lift it!

— But it's glowing, which means...

— It means nothing! We don't need an extra lantern here!

As the brothers bickered, Raps cautiously rose to her feet and moved closer. Like an inner voice urged her to touch the sword.

— May I... may I give it a try? — she clutched the strap of her bag with both hands, bracing for another outburst from Unlad.

— To the Breach with you! Go ahead! — Unlad retreated to the tunnel arch, crossing his arms over his chest and watching Raps' actions intently. His tail, swishing from side to side, also expressed his restrained dissatisfaction.

Sanlad released the sword, allowing the girl to get closer and grip its handle more comfortably. Rapsamash slowly touched the sword. It was cold. Even colder than the floor and arches. She gently grabbed the handle and pulled the sword towards her. It gave way, making a soft rustling sound as the blade's edge traced a line on the floor. Sanlad opened his mouth, Unlad dropped his arms and widened his eyes.

— She lifted... She lifted it! — Sanlad covered his mouth with his hand to prevent an inadvertent cry.

The sword seemed almost lighter than the armor plate. Raps lifted it higher, holding it with one hand. The runes glowed faintly, and even the blade itself felt unusual, as if it was giving her strength.

— Give it here! — Unlad, who had jumped up, tried to snatch the relic from her hands. Frightened, Raps let go of the sword, but the three-fingered one couldn't hold it, and the blade fell to the stone floor. But it didn't fall flat — it stuck into the stone floor. Not deeply, about three fingers deep, but it stuck. Almost silently.

— What the hell... — both brothers looked at each other in astonishment.

Unlad tried to pull out the blade – as before, to no avail, it didn't budge.

— Raps, do it again. Take it.

The girl was already reaching out. Feeling the cold handle again, she easily pulled out and lifted the blade.

— I'm both amazed and disappointed, — Sanlad looked at his brother, — We now have a weapon! A real weapon!

— And what are we going to do with it? Huh, Sanlad? Tell me, what are we going to do with it? Even blind Kavir will spot this runt with such chunk of iron. Keep it here? What's the point if no one but this pest can lift it? Do you think she's capable of anything?

— Unlad, I understand your disappointment, but it's something...

— Something?? Don't you get it, there's no chance in our plan with such a chunk! Even from pieces of this armor, even from picks, there will be more use. But where will you go with them? You won't even pierce your own skin, let alone armor. Fat blind Kavir, as always, will laugh at you when you try to scratch his double-skinned carcass with what you keep there!

— Yes, brother, if I could lift this iron, or if it were at least smaller, so that Raps could carry it unnoticed, — Sanlad replied, trying to keep calm and soothe his brother.

— Of course! Yes! If it were smaller! But what will you do? Break a piece off it? We tried, it didn't work! — Unlad spat, — Fell into the Breach, both of you! If only it were smaller, huh!

— But I can... I can make it smaller, — Raps suddenly said with some inner confidence.

Unlad laughed.

— Go ahead. Go ahead! And I'll watch, and I'll laugh at you, you little rootless mongrel, one more time!

Raps focused, mentally asking the sword in her hand to become smaller. She remembered what the knives looked like in the kitchen, and imagined this sword could become just as small and handy for her. She closed her eyes tightly to imagine it even better, and when she dared to peek with one eye...

Sanlad and Unlad were gaping at her, their mouths wide open.

Raps opened both eyes and looked at the sword, or rather, what remained of it. It was no longer a sword. It resembled the knife she had just envisioned, but this knife bore the same runes.

After a few moments of silence, the brothers finally exchanged glances.

— We can do this. We can get out of this hole!