Nathan stood on the mining carts’ rails, wind blowing against him; it whistled through his legs and rushed inside the mine from where the clanger of metal rung.

Nathan entered, and after a minute he spotted a flickering light and the silhouette of a kid hauling large chunks of crystals into a mining cart. “The cart’s not moving!” yelled the kid.

At the edge of the candle’s reach, Nathan stopped.

The clatter of metal and crystal resounded, but through it, Nathan heard the voice of the one he hated the most. “Everyone, take a break, we need to figure out what’s wrong with the cart. You won’t be—"

Why were they stopping? Although the cart wasn’t moving on its own, it didn’t mean they couldn’t keep digging. After all, two of them were enough to push the cart out, unload it, and bring it back. Wasn’t that what the old group of miners did for the couple of days he wasn’t able to dissolve four buckets? Why should it be different now? This was obviously that man’s plan. He just wants to see me starve. Nathan ground his teeth and clenched his fists.

And then, a tall silhouette stepped in front of the candlelight, casting an orange halo around the figure. It was that man, no doubt. “It doesn’t seem stuck; I think it’s the seer’s fault—”

Nathan had had enough. Even if he had continued dissolving the crystals, he would have fallen unconscious due to exhaustion by now, and the cart might have worked for an hour or two longer at most. It was all their fault; no, that man’s fault. If it wasn’t for him, there would be no problem.

Having had enough, Nathan raised a hand towards the tallest silhouette. He accumulated cold air in his other hand, closed his eyes, and channelled it to his other hand, making it take the shape of crystals before releasing it.

The sound of shattering glass echoed through the mine.

Nathan’s eyes shot open and found that there was no more light. Quickly, he scurried to the mine’s wall, hid in a crevice, and held his breath.

“What happened!” asked a kid in worry.

“Don’t worry, it was probably just some rocks that fell on the lantern. This is a mine, after all. Let’s just hold on to the mining cart and push it to the exit, so we don’t get lost.”

The man was still alive. But not only that, the ice crystals he launched were weak. Just now, that wasn’t the sound glass made after being blown to bits, but the sound it made when it tipped over and fell.

When the other kids began to make a ruckus, talking about random things, Nathan tiptoed back.

How had he failed so badly? Did his powers fail, or was it his heart? His quick steps quickened ever more until he was running. He soon arrived at the shack with laboured breaths and burning lungs.

Yet, what he soon came to learn was that his heart hurt most of all.

Regardless, he had to make sure that what failed him wasn’t magic. He could always fix his heart, but if he lost his mana, then was lost.

Nathan kicked down his shacks door and stepped back outside. He aimed his right hand in front of him and the other to the side. Taking a deep breath, he absorbed the cold with his left, and launched ice crystals through his right. It worked without issue, thank the Northern Spirit.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

But he did notice that his left hand was much warmer than it had been in the mine. Perhaps it hadn’t worked because it was warmer there.

And so, Nathan left and sat in front of his igloo. This time it would be different. He would force his heart into obedience, into a heart fit for magic. He wouldn’t be humiliated again.

#

The miners exited the mine when the sun crossed the horizon.

Spotting the seer, the tall and defiant skeleton stepped in front of the children. “What do you want?”

The boy was covered in a thin film of blue dust. His eyes were hollow, and his body wide, but thin. However, looking down he saw something inhumane, something that made him gage. The boy’s hands were keratinous and inflamed. Blue shards stuck out of them, and his nails were torn and bloodied.

The man looked back up, staring into the kid’s eyes as to not look back down. And although these were a more pleasant sight, they also looked like they belonged to a beast.

He was now convinced that the incident in the mine was this kid’s doing. But he couldn’t use the powers of the Spirit, the other day. After all, he’d have dealt with them not with words but strength.

Something was off, but he couldn’t pinpoint it.

“Why did you sleep in my bed?” The kid finally spoke, his face contorting, barely able to speak.

The man waited, giving the boy the time to process his emotions and say his piece, but he didn’t have anything else to say. “Is that all?” He asked.

“All?” Yelled the boy. “I’m a Seer and a mage, yet you treat me like a child! Where has your respect gone? Were you a mage it would make sense, but you’re a Hilfa, a no one! What makes you think you can treat me like this!” His breaths were quick and shallow

The man took a step back, the boy had gone mad. Perhaps this was an effect of the crystals. His own body was itching all over, and looking back to the boy’s mangled hands, it would no doubt get worse and who was to say it didn’t affect the mind.

For tonight, it may be better to find some fresh snow and make another igloo, but before he could step away, the boy raised both his hands. One pointed to nowhere. And then, the other at him, and the next thing he knew, transparent ice pierced his chest, and he lost all his strength.

Falling to his knees, he touched the ice, maybe making sure he really had been hit. Looking down, he saw his blood trickle down, and then stream and pool in the snow near his knees.

His ears rang and the screams of the children he tried his best to protect echoed in his ears. The cold world had become one notch colder.

#

The next day, the mining team could only fill the quota for one bulb.

Nathan couldn’t live on these scraps of food. And so, when he returned to the igloo, he ordered them to hand over a share of theirs.

The next day, Nathan received his share. And since the kids were guaranteed a steady supply of food regardless of if they worked or not, he decided to stop working, and slept all day.

Life was good for a week. He could eat to his fill, and his inflamed hands began to shrink and shed crystals. But after that, he became wary of doing nothing. He became wary of the Overseer standing outside the igloo all day, and the kids sleeping next to him. Was it only a matter of time before the kids no longer got food? Was it only a matter of time before the kids took avenged the man he killed? It's only a matter of time before he woke up with shackles around his wrists and his hands in that copper bowl once again.

And so, in hopes to remain even the slightest bit safer, he ordered them to go and build a smaller igloo off to the side. No one to say for him was now allowed to enter.

With this grand igloo all to himself, he began to hear his own breath at night, and his snores echo throughout the day.

But two weeks in, he couldn’t bear it anymore. He peeked outside and found the Overseer standing next to the door.

“What is it?” he asked.

Nathan gulped down his saliva. “Are you not going to do anything?”

“Why?”

“We’re not working.”

“I don’t care about any of that. My job’s simply to watch over you. After all, seers are a rare commodity.”

“That’s all?” Nathan couldn’t help but ask again.

“That’s all,” repeated the man.

Nathan closed the door and slid down against its hard wood grains. The skin on his arms had begun to shed, and new skin, untainted by blue crystals, grew in its place. His constant hunger had abated, and the food he received from the kids every day had begun to become too much for him to eat. His hands itched to grab the crystals, and his aura wavered around his body, always ready to convert the minerals into energy.

When the third week came, he cracked.