Nathan collapsed to the floor. His temples throbbed, and the world spun around. But most notably, he spotted the man who’d hit him stand above him.

Nathan raised his arms, keeping his shackles in front of his face to block any oncoming blows. Moving fast as not to get pinned, he got on his feet, but a boot pushed him back to the ground. Nathan swung his arms around, trying to beat away whatever might come, but nothing came. Still dizzy, and unable to see past the man who’d hit him, he stayed on guard and asked, “What did I do? Why are you attacking me?”

His vision stopped spinning and he noticed that these were the men who’d entered the mine earlier today. “Wait! Aren’t’ you also sent here to mine the crystals?” he asked. “Why are you attacking me? Aren’t we in this together?”

Yet, all he got as an answer was a hand to the face, slamming him into the snow. The man placed his boot on Nathan stomach and took a knee, adding more weight.

A hand then entered Nathan’s mouth and the next thing he knew; he was vomiting on himself.

“Why can’t you Seers, never do the task asked of you?” The man, got up and removed his foot from Nathan’s stomach, letting him turn over and cough out the vomit lodged in his throat. It stunk of fish and acid, while fish bones pricked his throat.

“If we can’t eat, you can’t either. Now clean up, then come back. We need to talk.”

“Why?” Why did all this come to be? Everything was going well until he headed for Kilgarda’s village. I had been ignored and dismissed by the mage, but why did these people beat me up? Why did they mine these blue rocks? If they killed my father, then why couldn’t all these men take on one mage?

“Faster!” The man kicked Nathan once more, sending him tumbling across the igloo.

“Why are you doing this to me?” He had to ask. “Why are you taking it out on me and not the Overseer or the mages?”

The group laughed say for the man. “My name’s Grega,” he introduced himself. “Sometimes I forget the stupidity of kids. We’re not here to explain shit to you. I remember the words of my village’s Seer back then. Shut the fuck up and don’t question me! Now clean up your mess before it stinks up the place.”

Nathan couldn’t accept this. He’d been patient enough, he now needed to stand up for himself. “I’m a mage!” He screamed, getting up with a grimace. He pulled out his pin and flashed it to the group. “See!” He pointed to the emblem. “This is the proof. I’m a mage! A MAGE!” He began to hyperventilate, and his face turned red.

Grega looked back to his group, unsure if he’d heard something else, or the boy had lost his mind. The miners had the same look as he, so Grega turned back to Nathan. “A mage…here…” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, but this is your last chance. I don’t know if you’re delusional, but I was being nice because you’re a kid. But if you’re going to lose your mind on us, we might as well make you do whore work, so either clean up and go to sleep or get ready for far worse than what you did today.”

“NO, I’M A MAGE! A MAGE!” Nathan screamed with all he had. But soon, air no longer filled his lungs and he crumbled to the ground. What was the use of the pin, what was the use of him crawling through the snow with frostbitten fingers and cracked lips all those years. What was the use of doing nothing but learn the different types of magic and potion making skills. To clean puke?

Slowly, Nathan dragged the snow on which he puked into a clump and threw it outside.

Finished, he headed to the igloo wanting to get some sleep, but before he could enter a young man blocked his path. “Yes?” Nathan asked, resigned.

“Now, you don’t have to be so downtrodden. I just want to explain why Grega got so mad at you earlier.”

“Because I didn’t do my job,” he answered. He was tired, he only wanted to sleep, nothing else.

The man tilted his head and took in a loud breath. “Well…yes, but that doesn’t explain whyyyy we’re mad that you didn’t do your job.”

“Why?” asked Nathan.

“Well, you see, those blue crystals. Those are Grenold crystals. They’re used to generate energy, a special thing that can make things happen. That energy: other than whatever the mages use it for, is also used to power our mining carts. Those are the things we use to get the crystals out of the mines.”

“But why didn’t you guys tell me that earlier? I didn’t know any of that. Why did you have to beat me up?” Nathan asked at his wits’ ends. His ribs, his chest, his everything hurt, and for what? Just because he wasn’t told something!

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“Look.” The man grabbed Nathan’s shoulder. “We’re fed based on quotas. The more we bring, the more we eat. And you see, when you decided to act all defiant today, we mined half as many crystals. Now, tomorrow we’ll be hungry and produce less, eat less, ect… It’ll take us at least a week to get back up to speed, and that’s if you’re not completely useless. And we haven’t particularly had good experiences with seers. That’s why we need you to go through four buckets tomorrow; any less and we’ll have no reason not to sell you off to another igloo for some food. Now go, I gotta take a piss."

#

The Overseer retrieved Nathan at the crack of dawn and threw him in the shack without a word regarding the bruises covering his body.

Nathan rolled his shoulders, stretched his arms and legs. Everything creaked and cracked, but if he didn’t want to feel worse tomorrow, he had to work.

And so, he picked up two crystals and plunged them in the green liquid. It was viscous and freezing cold. But nothing happened. He needed to add his aura to the mix. Remembering the feeling of hate he’d gotten when he was ignored by the mage, he accumulated mana around his hand and small waves begun to spread through the liquid.

Not long after, the crystals began to break up. It flaked, and its flakes flaked, until the liquid was filled with blue fragments. It didn’t seem hard, so he enthusiastically went ahead and grabbed two more crystals. The same occurred. Then two more again. And two more until he had gone through thirty-two crystals and had emptied his first bucket.

Nathan knocked on the door, and the Overseer brought him another bucket. This one also had thirty crystals. The green water had turned blue at this point, and its temperature had gone up. It was now lukewarm.

And it was while working with this third bucket that he encountered difficulties.

When he grabbed its eight pair and plunged his hands into the liquid, it was as if a thousand needles pierced his hands and cooked them from the inside out. He dropped the crystals in the liquid and pulled out his hands. They were bright red, and his palms were covered in fragments of blue crystals.

Nathan ground his teeth and let out a scream. He held his hands high in the air to get them as far away from anything that could touch them and trigger another wave of pain.

When his hands stopped burning, he wiped them on the ground as slowly as he could. The largest chunks of crystals fell out of his hands, but many more remained, and continued to dig into his skin. He looked back to see half the crystals still in the bucket. He couldn’t hold back his tears. It hurt too much; he couldn’t see how he’d finish it in time for the end of the day.

Wiping the drool off his mouth with the inside of his elbow he got ready to continue, but then, the shack’s door opened.

Alongside a blinding white light, the smell of food flooded the small room.

“Here.” The Overseer handed Nathan yesterday’s plate. Nathan quickly grabbed the food, driving more crystals deeper into his hands, but it didn’t matter. Now that he’d smelled food, his stomach hurt more than his hands.

In less than a minute, he finished half his dish, only to realize that the hole in his stomach wouldn’t be satisfied with the little food he’d gotten.

“Is there more?” Nathan couldn’t help but ask. However, the Overseer didn’t answer, only looking at the unfinished bucket in the corner of the shack.

Nathan had to work harder to get more food. His mind was clouded over, and he could only think of this most basic need. He grabbed two more crystals and plunged them in the viscous liquid, letting the liquid cling to his skin and swim into his wounds. It seemed to have cooled since he took a break and hurt less than before; regardless, the pain was still there.

He ground his teeth, and tried to control the pain, letting his body take control of the repetitive actions. In a trance, his surroundings turned white, his fingers turned black, and silver wolves, snow hawks, and snow trolls scrutinized each of his movements, looking for an opening to strike. A moment of weakness, but it never came, at least not today.

#

For a week, he fulfilled his four-bucket quota without additional food. Each night he’d return to the igloo, collapse in a corner, and fall asleep. But at least he found a bit of contentment in tranquility. As long as he completed his quotas, he wouldn’t be attacked.

Thanks to this, he had been able to recover from most of his wounds, but his hands never got better. The miners may have been covered in blue crystal dust, but his hands were crusted over in Grenold shards. This was his new life.

He woke up, powered mining carts, ate, powered more carts, and then slept. He had no time to think or dream of a better tomorrow.

#

The next day, Nathan plunged his last two crystals into the liquid. Dissolved, he pulled out his hands, and did his best to endure the pain, but the cold wind which entered the shack and brushed against his hand sent him into a fit of pain.

Tears rolled down his cheeks and he fell to the ground, keeping his arms hidden under his chest. Snot rolled down his nose, which he wiped away with the insides of his arms. He then wiped his hands on the ground, but they began to bleed and stain the snow crimson.

Accepting the pain, he rested his hands on his lap and began to nick away at the millimetre thin shards with his nails.

Just as he grew accustomed to the pain, the shack’s door swung open. His eyes shot open, awaiting his meal.

“It’s time to head back,” said the Overseer.

“What! The sun is still out,” yelled Nathan. However, he noticed the pitch-black sky outside. “But I haven’t eaten yet! Why didn’t I get my food! I did my job, no?”

“You did … both. Lick your lips.”

His lips were dry and cracked, but he tasted salted fish.

“You’ve just grown accustomed to it. All seers enter this state of trans when doing their work. It’s the only way one can endure it.”

“…” Nathan wanted to interject, maybe ask for more time to let him peel away the crystals in peace, but the man dragged him back to the igloo.

There he crawled into his corner on all fours, but as he reached his snow heap, a hand wrapped itself around his legs and pulled him into the group of miners.