Conquering the Mines

The horde of Harbinger Bats filled the caverns as they scrambled to escape, their ear-piercing cries echoing off the moist, rocky walls. Nythol, obsidonite pickaxe in hand, did not flinch as the oversized flying rodents frenzied around his head. Eventually, the bats figured out there was a tunnel to the surface just a few feet from where Nythol stood, and the swarm streamed into it like water in a dam. But even after all of them were gone, Nythol didn’t move for a while. Harbinger Bats were already easily provoked during a frenzy, but they could easily and quickly come back if you slipped up even a little.

He gripped the pickaxe tightly, sweat trickling down his face. Every fiber of his being demanded that he immediately get back to digging into the walls for false gold, but he fought back with just as much effort. The sludge wouldn’t do him any good if he were torn to shreds, he reminded himself.

Nythol wasn’t sure how much time had passed after that thought, but only once he felt sure that the bats had finally moved on did he relax his stance. He gazed back at the crack in the wall that he began digging into, and the empty iron buckets sitting beneath it. With a hefty sigh, Nythol wailed his axe into the crack, determined to find at least one vein of false gold.

All he needed was one more bucket’s worth. After he handed it to the Master of the Molten Mines, the old man would sell it—along with the rest of five years’ worth of sludge he accumulated—so it could be repurposed as mortar, armor, even weapons in the hands of a master blacksmith. Miners get a decent share of the profits, but Nythol didn’t swing his axe for that.

He swung harder, reminding himself that he was near the end of his contract. The next thought drove his swing, the clash of steel against stone echoing through the caves, the thought of what awaited at the end: his true reward. After the next swing, though, Nythol collapsed to his knees. Sweat blanketed his face, his lungs demanding air.

Nythol quickly unfastened his flask from his belt, lifting it to his lips…only to realize he had a few drops left. Before he could grieve, he felt something cold brushing against his cheek. Any composure he had during the bats’ frenzy quickly fell away as he stumbled back, gazing up at a woman holding another flask out to him.

“My goodness!” She exclaimed with a chuckle. “I didn’t mean to startle you! I didn’t even think it was possible to startle a miner.”

Even in the dim lighting from nearby torches, her long, golden hair shone like the sun. Her hazel eyes were like an abyss that he could not stop gazing into. And her smile chased away his brief feelings of anxiety. But it left room for fear, and then a hint of rage.

Jumping to his feet, Nythol grabbed the woman’s arms and hissed, “Astralyn, what in Rythys are you doing down here?”

“Well, I know you were working hard,” she replied innocently. “I thought you could use some refreshments.”

“I’m serious!” Nythol almost shouted, but bit his tongue before he could. “It’s not safe down here! What would your parents say if they knew you were down here?”

Astralyn rolled her eyes. “They’d probably tell me to confine myself in my room, tending to my studies. But while I find alchemical medicine fascinating, you know very well I cannot stay there forever. I was born to go out into the world!”

Nythol squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. He never could contain her wild, adventurous soul.

“Regardless, you cannot stay here. There are worse things down here than Harbinger Bats, and I won’t risk losing you!”

“Well, this time…” she began, then unsheathing a large sword strapped to her back, twirled it around as if it were a parade flag. “…I’m ready for anything.”

“Where…where in Rythys did you get a sword?” Nythol gasped, unsure whether he was astonished or angry.

“You know my father was a former General in the Holy Army; he made sure I was well trained to defend myself. I can handle a few bats or whatever lurks down here.”

Nythol sighed in defeat, finally acknowledging that he couldn’t dissuade her, no matter what danger he described.

“Fine, do as you wish, but let me get back to work.”

Nythol hefted the pickaxe and lifted it high, but Astralyn stepped in the way with the flask raised to Nythol’s mouth.

“Not until you’ve had some water,” she said in a gentle but firm voice.

There was once a time when Nythol would’ve shoved past her and kept digging, but after so many years together, he knew better. Begrudgingly setting the axe down, he accepted her flask and desperately drank the cold liquid.

“Now may I continue?” Nythol asked, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

Astralyn gestured towards the crack and stepped aside. Satisfied, Nythol lifted the axe once again and swung it with renewed vigor.

It’s actually quite funny, Nythol thought to himself. Five years working in these dreadful mines feels more like five days, all because of a promise. Just one more bucket, and then he’d receive Astralyn’s hand.

He swung twice as hard, the echoes from the impact somehow a lot more deafening than his previous strikes.

———————————————————————————————————————

“You know,” Astralyn said, “this would probably go faster if you’d let me help you.”

Nythol didn’t acknowledge her at first, swinging hard despite his exhaustion. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed since his bride-to-be’s arrival, but he didn’t care. He was going to find that vein if it would be the last thing he’d ever do in Rythys.

“Nythol!” She said, almost shouting over the collision of stone and metal.

Nythol finally stopped, taking a few gasps of air.

“It’s okay,” he said quietly. “I can do this.”

The muscles in his arms screamed in protest as he lifted his pickaxe again, but Nythol ignored their cries and swung once more. He gritted his teeth, once again finding nothing. Not even a drop of false gold. He swung harder, as if that would make a difference.

“Nythol, stop!” Astralyn cried, holding back his arms.

Nythol shrugged her off and struck the cavern wall so hard that it shook for a minute.

“Don’t try to stop me!” Nythol snarled. “I can do this! I need to do this!”

“Why won’t you let me help you? I even brought my own pickaxe, which I can tell you failed to notice!”

“It doesn’t matter! You’re not even experienced in this field!”

Nythol screamed in agony as he swung the axe again, but as he wound up for another strike, Astralyn pushed her way in between him and the wall.

“This is not about experience, and you know it,” she said firmly.

“Astralyn, get out of my way! I’m close to finding a vein, finally breaking free from this contract!”

“The vein can wait,” she snapped. “This cannot.”

Nythol wanted to shove past her, as much as the thought pained him. But gazing into her eyes, he could see not just anger, but love and concern. For some reason, Nythol could feel his muscles and bones get heavier, until he dropped the pickaxe and sloppily sat down.

“Don’t you see…what I’m doing? For you? For us?” He panted.

Astralyn joined him on the rocky ground.

“Of course I can,” she said gently, touching his hand. “But don’t you see what you’re doing? To yourself?”

“I don’t care what happens to me. I finish this, and your father will finally let us be together.”

There was a long silence. Both of them gazed into each other’s eyes, as if some unspoken thing was being said.

“I…” Nythol started, but soon choked on a few tears. “I…I love you.”

Astralyn gazed into his tear-stained eyes a little longer before she replied. “I love you too, but I can’t let you suffer any longer on my behalf.”

At that, she stood up, unsheathing her own pickaxe from her back.

“All I have to do is hit the crack, right?” She asked. “If you refuse to rest, then I’m going to help you find that vein, and you can’t stop me!”

With that, she whipped around and swung her axe. A bit clumsy, as she accidentally hit the side of the crack, but she wound up and tried again. This time, she was right on the mark. All that training with her father truly did pay off.

Nythol couldn’t help but gaze at her, not because of how surprisingly quickly she picked up on this skill, but the motion behind it. He wanted to do this himself, truly earn her hand. But now she was going out of her way to finish what he was too exhausted to do. Nythol didn’t believe he could love any other woman as much as he did Astralyn, especially right now.

Regardless, something didn’t sit right with him. As inspiring and selfless as this was, Nythol couldn’t let her do this alone either. Staggering to his feet, he waited for Astralyn to wind back up, then he struck the crack. Astralyn struck after he reeled back, and the pair took turns digging into the widening hole.

After many swings that Nythol couldn’t keep track of, the pickaxe strangely felt lighter. Each swing had more power now, more speed, more accuracy. Astralyn looked just as tired as he was, but it never diminished the fiery glow in her eyes. It only made Nythol’s next swings hit even harder.

Then, he sensed it! Deep in the pit of his stomach, he could feel that they were close. It could be desperation, but he chose to believe they might actually find a vein. Astralyn seemed to immediately pick up on that, because she quickened her pace with a lot more force. Nythol followed suit, digging as if he had found a buried treasure chest.

A boom echoed throughout the caverns. It was very different from the typical sound of steel against stone, almost like a wall crumbling, but on a much smaller scale. That’s when Nythol saw it: a stream of molten, gold-colored liquid flowing towards them.

“Astralyn! The bucket!” Nythol said quickly.

She snatched the iron bucket off the ground and placed it underneath the hole, just in time to catch the steady stream that flowed from it.

“Yes! Yes!” Nythol laughed, almost refusing to believe what he saw. “This stream will fill the bucket in no time!”

“We did it!” Astralyn cheered, then she scooped Nythol in a very tight embrace.

The pair laughed and twirled, kissing in between each giggle.

———————————————————————————————————————

A loud cry startled Nythol from his slumber. After the two got enough false gold from the vein, Nythol wanted to carry it immediately through the nearby tunnel to the surface. However, Astralyn forbade him, insisting that they rest first. Nythol begrudgingly agreed, but now something threatened to disturb that rest.

Astralyn groaned as she woke up on his shoulder.

“My love, what is it?” She asked.

Nythol held up a hand, silently telling her to be quiet. Then he slowly stood up and looked around.

A loud screech echoed throughout the caverns, and despite the disorienting noise, Nythol deduced that it was coming from high above them. His eyes widened; he wanted to kick himself for not recognizing the sound sooner.

“Nythol, what’s wrong?” Astralyn asked.

“We have to go, now!” He said as he raced over to the tunnel.

Astralyn grabbed him and said, “Wait! The false gold!”

“There’s no time!”

Too late. A swarm of Harbinger Bats spiraled down into the cavern where they stood. At first, neither of them moved or even spoke, praying that the bats couldn’t detect them.

Nythol gritted his teeth, wondering what possessed him to let Astralyn stay with him. Those bats had enough venom in their fangs to down fifty grown men, and now he put his true love in that line of danger. Yet when he looked at her, he could see fear in her eyes but also a stubborn determination.

Nythol couldn’t help but smile. She always was brave to a fault, even in circumstances of certain death.

“We need to get out of here,” Nythol murmured.

“What?”

“Last time, I got lucky that the bats’ frenzy was, at least relatively, short, but we both know that this could go on for ages. The tunnel is just over there.”

“But the gold!”

“Forget it! I’m not losing you! It’s not worth it!”

Astralyn ignored him and slowly picked up the bucket.

“What are you doing?” Nythok hissed. “Leave it! It’s not worth losing you!”

“You worked tirelessly just to get one drop of this stuff!” She hissed back. “I’m not letting your hard work go to waste!”

“Confound it all,” Nythol sighed. “Then at least let me help you carry it.”

Slowly moving so as not to provoke the bats any further, he helped lift the bucket.

“If you’re going to insist on this, then you need to do exactly as I say. We walk slowly and carefully through the tunnel. No sudden movements, no loud noises, nothing to give these monsters a reason to bite us. Do you understand?”

Astralyn nodded. Satisfied, Nythol begrudgingly led the way. Slowly but surely, the pair made it through the tunnel entrance. The light grew dimmer, the sound of flapping wings and ear-piercing cries growing more threatening. Still, the pair walked on.

“It should be a straight shot from here to the surface,” Nythol said quietly.

“I understand,” she replied.

Soon, the two approached complete, utter darkness. The wings and cries only made Nythol’s blood run colder, but feeling the touch of Astralyn’s fingers clamped on the bucket handle warmed it back up. At least enough to keep leading her through the blackness.

He almost flinched when a wing brushed against his cheek, and judging from how tightly Astralyn’s fingers gripped the handle for a second, a bat must’ve brushed against her as well. Nythol slowly lowered the bucket, eager to give the pair a break from the heavy load. But he could still feel and hear the monsters swirling around them, growing louder and louder.

Nythol’s soul nearly jumped out of his body when a bat landed squarely on his back. He felt its head wiggling around, smelling the air and crying out to its brethren. He heard a small gasp, but a subtle jolt of added weight to Astarlyn’s back told him everything he needed to know: a bat landed on her too.

Nythol’s bat climbed up his back, still screeching and sniffing. A tingle ran down Nythol’s arm when he could hear the bat’s heavy breath next to his ear. The bat’s sniffing was louder now, and the deafening cries threatened to shatter his eardrum. But he didn’t freeze because of this, but rather, because he imagined these same sensations were what Astralyn must be feeling right now.

He wanted so badly to shake off the bat and slaughter them all in one fell swoop, but that would only get them both killed. So instead, he stood perfectly still, calm, and composed. The bat lingered near his ear for a minute longer before finally launching itself off of his shoulder to join the others. Another pair of flapping wings next to him signaled that the other bat left Astralyn as well.

Even so, Nythol subtly gripped the sides of his head, scrambling to get himself to calm down before the bats could pick up on his distress. After all, what if they came back? What if they actually bit her this time? He would rather let them bite him than her, but could he truly leave her all alone?

However, the thoughts and feelings almost immediately dissipated the minute Astralyn’s hand grabbed his.

Somehow, even amongst the deafening cries, he could hear four soft words from her.

“We’ll get through this,” she said.

And just like that, Nythol found the strength of a hundred men. Grabbing the handle alongside Astralyn, the two lifted the bucket and continued walking. Still at a slow pace, yet somehow with more speed and vigor, barely even acknowledging the bats anymore. Even when the bats’ sounds faded, and daylight could just barely be visible up ahead, none of it seemed to register to Nythol.

All he could sense was Astralyn’s soothing presence right beside him. And the key to their marriage swirling around in an iron bucket.