Chapter X - The Contract

Water flooded his face, droplets dripping from his eyebrows untamed. Lifting his arms, he tried seeing if there was any sensation left in them. Nothing. Purely numb. Wretched Paladon. Nakol peeked around the veiled carriage, eyeing the other miners. Some of them rested, their mouths opened broad, snoring like pigs. Others gazed down, bitter eyes pondering on something that Nakol assumed was how they got themselves into this situation. What they all shared was exertion.

When was the last time he rested like an ordinary, common man? Two days ago? Four? Two weeks? Time was an idea he began to misunderstand. When you were more occupied with staying alive than anything else, that was bound to happen. What even was the point to all these damned places they’ve visited for the past month? Or was it two months since the bastards came to them? Nevertheless, they did not seem willing to cease working them anytime soon. They were already on their way towards another location Paladon considered good for mining. Ever since they began, they extracted so much ore, they could have built a city of their own and live like kings. Luckily, they were allowed to share the treasure and bring part of it back to Faye. The bastards were already too rich. And too wicked. Sharing was the least they could do for the effort the band had been put through.

Leaning forward slightly, he glimpsed outside, struggling to keep a steady position. The carriage jolted like it rode through craters. It was a miracle the horses kept on galloping through such roads. All that regal armor and they couldn’t afford to get them a more comfortable means of transportation. Pathetic. Through the tiny crack, Nakol was able to see them outside, riding their horses, wearing their armors with such confidence, you could feel like they owned you and everything you cared about. Just what exactly went on in that city of theirs that they could be like this? What was one supposed to do to become this wealthy? Amixia came into his mind, her beautiful chubby face being held into his palms. The things he could do for her with such treasures… the life he would give her… the wishes he could fulfill. Blacksmithing was obviously taking a toll on her poor heart. Making her doubt herself even more than she already did. Living like that was not what she needed. Constantly belittling herself like she was nothing, allowing the words she heard all her life to haunt her further than they should. Nakol understood how much she longed to overcome her condition, to prove she was something she clearly wasn’t. And it pained him. It pained him that she couldn’t see what he did. The strength that laid there, deep within her, eagerly awaiting to be displayed instead of pushed down. Not physical strength, but something far better than that. For all she lacked in regards to her body, she more than made up for with her mind. Unlike many people he met, including himself, Amixia was unrelenting in her pursuit of the things she desired. Determined. Ambitious. Unwavering in the face of adversity. That was where her true strength lay. Sadly, scars made her be this way, the grief endured throughout her childhood forced the girl who she once was to become the woman of today. But this change brought along some undesired consequences, things she had always been fighting, seemingly without success. Chasing this wild dream of hers was not going to aid in that regard. It only stirred more frustration within her and it pulled on the already slim strings of her broken heart. Nakol sighed, brushing away the sweat blurring his view. How long will he have to do Paladon’s mining for them until he earned enough lazugs to give her the life she deserved? Was there an end in sight? Or was he now their slave, mining away like Galaria’s foolest, doing whatever they required of him until his demise? His jaw clenched. To the abyss with Paladon and their mining! The moment enough lazugs were in his pouch, he would take Amixia and flee from Faye. Go somewhere far from Paladon, far away so they could not find him and start anew. Rumors were circulating about a place south of Faye, a city extending beyond what Galaria’s seen before. Bigger even than Faye. A flicker of a smile emerged on his face. Maybe their lives would be better there. Maybe his work for those bastards wouldn't be in vain after all.

Their next stop was like always, a complete mystery. For some irrational reason, Paladon’s soldiers kept even that detail from them. No one knew exactly where they would arrive next. North? South? Maybe on Mokan, a darned ocean away from Galaria or any other form of civilization they knew? Guessing was an amusing way for them to pass time on the road. They already exhausted any form of entertainment capable of keeping them from becoming madmen. Betting on the exact location made the competition fiercer, it captured their attention and made them actually think. He squeezed the pouch behind him and grinned deviously. Those lazugs won are a treat.

Nakol tilted forward, taking a few stumbling steps towards the puny curtains that dangled in the air. Tossing them aside, he allowed some light to come in, at the cost of his eyes burning. Muffled curses arose from behind, brethren of his walking up to the blinding sun. About time they awoke. He shushed their protests, waving them up on their feet.

“Stop complaining, you dimwits. Hop on your feet. Let us look at those dullards again, maybe their shining armor would keep us from wanting to smash their skulls.” he said, sticking his head outside, struggling to sit straight.

The soldiers galloped about ten feet from their carriage, overseeing them like a bunch of slave masters. Faceless heads shifted slowly towards him, no amount of emotion visible on where their faces were supposed to be. Instead, Nakol was met by protruding blue crystals, shaped like the point of a spear pointing downwards. The soldiers simply were, and that was about it. Their identity was a complete enigma. Yet an even bigger mystery to Nakol was who in the Mother’s name trained them? Warriors were uncommon in Faye, that was true, but even the ones Nakol had seen, were never this… strong. This powerful. Immovable like mountains. They acted so out of touch with the world around them, like it was just a suggestion, not a fact. Always on the move, always carrying out their duties, always making sure the tasks were finished properly. Whatever Paladon was doing, they were doing it right. Such a powerful army at your disposal… there was no telling just how much you could do with it. The idea sent shivers down his back. He loved mocking them for their ridiculousness, but he could not deny the terror felt when glancing at them. The sheer amount of dread streaming from them like a dark, hungry mist could make even the most fearless shit his pants. Protecting Amixia from them was without question. His mouth dried as thoughts arose, visions of what would happen if they would get close to her. Terrifying.

With a sudden jolt, the carriage came to a standstill. Hands pushed against shoulders, jerking them so the ones still asleep could rise. Nakol returned to his spot, rushed by the realization that a soldier was about to pull open the latch and let them out. Being close to the exit when that happened would attract a slap on the hands. The heaviness of that wretched armor was a thought Nakol would not forgive anytime soon. Just as he expected, the curtains came apart and a figure’s head lurked inside. Opening the latch of a small wooden board and descending it, he stood aside, pointing for the miners to exit. Nakol eyed the band, noticing their reluctance and exhaustion. They did not want to keep on mining. But the contract was signed. There was no other way. Testing the soldiers probably meant losing a few teeth. Returning to Faye like that would most likely make Amixia lose her wits and forbid him from ever leaving her side again.

Stepping out and adjusting to the blinding light, the band was placed in a line. Close to a dozen soldiers stood by, hands folded behind their backs. Nakol glanced around the place, making the best of the time they still had to grasp where they presently were. Up ahead the carriage’s front, a massive peak loomed over them, shrouded by a red fog. He whirled around, raising his eyebrows. The sun shone differently around those parts. Instead of the whitish golden of Faye, here it had a red tint to it. The air had a… somber feeling to it. Like death itself dwelled nearby. No birds chirped. Occasional strong gusts added to the tension Nakol was sensing.

“Something feels off.” Nakol muttered, mostly to himself.

A throaty voice snorted behind him. “Get used to it. We’re close to Leehaeel Peak. Life around here is about as thriving as a dead man.”

Nakol turned and eyed the man, frowning. “I can… sense that. Why though?”

“Oh? Do I look like a history book to you? No idea,” he replied with a scowl and shrugged in a displeased manner “I heard mostly rumors and everytime I passed those parts I felt like you do now.”

“Rumors?”

The grumpy man nodded and before he could reply, they both received a push forward from the soldiers to advance. For a brief moment, Nakol clenched his jaw but rapidly sighed in frustration. Turning to take a better look at the peak, he examined its shape. Sharp, like a jutting needle, with a broad jagged core. It was painted pale brown at its foot and as it rose, it shifted into a shade of deep red. The fog was shrouding the tip of the mountain so well, it required Nakol to squint in order to fully understand what was up there. Something similar to… snow came into sight. But not its usual white coloring, but a… dark red. Closer to black. He lifted his eyebrows in wonder. It was odd to see snow, but even more unreal was to see it… tinted like that.

His arm ached. He felt a piece of wood hit him, and swiveling he met a soldier carrying his pickaxe. There was only that cursed swollen crystal where his face was supposed to be, held by his white caging helmet. Nakol scowled, thinking about how he would tear it apart, shred it into pieces so he could get a glimpse of who stood behind it. And then punch his damnable face into the abyss, never to be seen again. Eventually, Nakol accepted the pickaxe with a displeased tug, and the soldier turned and pointed to his right. Briefly walking through an expansive field of tiny, black flowers, the soldiers halted before a wall of stone so tall, it casted shadows over them. Surprisingly, its surface looked smooth. Oddly smooth. On the rim, the wall was wrapped with brownish soil, dark leaves swaying slightly in the calm breeze. Nakol peeked back towards the carriage, sitting quietly on a curving dusty pathway. Beneath it, traces of wheels sprouted forward, indicating people often travelled those parts. The question that loomed over Nakol was why? Nothing about the place seemed… inviting. The dusky red sun shone like wildfires threatening to scorch everything and the flowers growing looked like death’s own garden, if such a thing even existed. And Leehaeel Peak… Nakol’s eyes landed on the mountain with intrigue. Whatever occurred in that place… it felt like terror itself was dwelling in it.

Nakol was once again pushed forward, forced to advance. Cursing under his mouth, he thought about all the things he would do to them if the circumstances were more favorable. Would their shiny armor break? If so, how effective would a pickaxe be?

Finally, they arrived at a small opening carved in the stone wall before them. Rather tall for a human. How tall must one be to need such a large entrance? One by one, they entered it, a few of his brethren lighting up torches for everyone to see. Multiple caverns came into sight, sprouting from the main entrance, as broad as the entryway.

Nakol turned and raised his eyebrows. “What do you expect us to do here? It’s already mined, you buffoons.” he scowled at the soldiers who stood outside, knocking on his head a few times.

No answer came.

“Imbeciles.” he murmured

“Let’s do our job, Nakol,” said a shrilling voice behind him “leave the birds to shit on their expensive armor.”

Nakol snorted. “Something tells me even birds have some principles. It’s not wise to shit on any statue.”

Laughs bursted out, sending echoes throughout the mine. The band split up, each going into a different tunnel. Nakol walked behind Hael, both glancing to the sides as they advanced further into the mine.

“I can’t wait to be done with them,” the man before him said, sighing “I miss sleep. Miss my wife and child.”

Nakol nodded, the feeling resonating with him. What was Amixia even doing? Hopefully good. Hopefully Wymmel took care of her in his absence. There was no doubt that the old fellow was there for her.

“Ah, my friend, I agree,” he pushed the pickaxe on his other shoulder, the muscles around it tensing and hurting “when did the contract say we were done?”

“Done?” he halted and turned, a bushy eyebrow lifted “was there a mention of that in it?”

“I suppose. What, are we some kind of dogs from now on? Mining away for these bastards endlessly? There has to be some end to it all.” he said, yawning

“Brother… Nakol… there was no date mentioned in it.”

His eyes widened. “What?”

“Yes,” Hael responded with a nod. “Until we find whatever they want, we are stuck with them.”

The man looked over Nakol’s shoulder and frowned. Then, immediately shook his head and sighed, advancing further. Wretched Paladon. How could there be no mention of a date on a contract? Did they even read the same piece of paper? No, Hael was definitely wrong. Maybe too tired to think straight. Contracts had a time until they expired, it certainly was the case with theirs. Poor Hael desperately needed some rest.

Shoving their pickaxes in the rocks, Nakol and Hael began carrying out their tasks. Good thing they at least had some of the work done for them since the mine already existed, stretching caverns like the legs of a spider. To start from nothing felt like an intense burden. At least like this, they hopefully wouldn’t have to work too hard to find something of use.

“Mother bless this mine and make it fruitful,” he muttered under heavy breaths.

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Hael chuckled. “We need more than Mother’s luck, brother. We need the Matriarchy itself to come here and touch these walls, maybe then we’ll be lucky.”

“Does the Matriarchy even leave Faye?”

“Not that I know of. They barely even go outside to meet the peasants.”

Nakol stopped and thought about it for a moment. Indeed, he barely saw them. The pair of women was revered by everyone in Faye for their supposed strong connection to the Mother. To him however, it all sounded like superstitions, made to keep the peasants from going insane from all the work done on the fields. But then again… that tree… was rather unique and strange.

“Whatever. They’re not doing much anyway. Maybe they should move their regal buttocks and actually engage with the lesser, poorer people. I think Paladon would really love to meet them.” Nakol said, laughing at his own words

“Don’t give them ideas, brother. They may actually listen to you and I for one, don’t want them inside my home. I have a wife and child that I need to keep away from them.”

“True, true. I should probably shut up,” he said, grimacing at the thought of Paladon living in Faye.

It was bad enough that they had to endure them. Releasing them onto Faye would be the biggest disaster in Galaria. Amixia must be kept safe. He needed to see to that.

“Even so,” Nakol said, grunting from the effort “what is that tall, weird tree of theirs? What role does it serve other than looking like the skies shat gold onto it?”

Hael shrugged, his small, sharp shoulders making his head look oddly big. “Not a clue, brother. My wife gathers around the Matriarchy with a few of her sisters, worshipping at its foot. Something about death, the afterlife, the sort.”

Snorting, Nakol shook his head in disbelief. The answer sounded more baffling than he could have ever anticipated. A tree that acted as a gate towards the afterlife? Sure. What was to come next? The idea that Paladon’s soldiers had emotions?

“People need to stop being so gullible. A tree is a tree,” he said, sneering “it doesn’t carry you into ‘paradise’. Fools all of them. I hope Amixia doesn’t begin believing in such things.”

Hael stalled himself, gazing at Nakol with widened eyes. “Brother, I would suggest you change your words. One of these fools is my wife.”

Nakol glanced at him, frowning. “Would you… accept my apologies? What do you want me to say? She believes in a magical tree, ‘brother’,” he returned his attention to his work “stop fooling yourself and mine away.”

The man said nothing. Nakol glanced in his direction a few more times, only the outline of his body visible. Was he going to respond to his provocation? This poor old man? What was he even going to do? Hit him? If he could reach his height, perhaps. Eventually, Hael resumed his work, not willing to give Nakol the satisfaction of a squabble. That’s right, old man. Mine away and cease fooling yourself. Trees are trees. Nothing more and nothing less.

Time had a strange way of working when one labored in a mine. In that Nakol lost track of it completely. Focused on breathing and seeing as the round cavern he sat in narrowed, he mined ceaselessly, stone falling on him as it cracked. The surroundings forced him to crouch. When was Hael when you needed a short fellow? Probably still disgruntled by their previous interaction. It wasn’t Nakol’s fault he could not see the nonsense in the Matriarchy’s beliefs. Sometimes people needed some nudging in the right direction to be kept from falling into foolishness. Maybe the soldier behind him, overseeing the entire operation like a hawk eyeing its prey could as well.

Nakol swiveled, stumbling up to his feet. “You like what you’re seeing?”

The soldier gave no reply and kept sitting, arms folded together. Nakol threw newly found bits of iron into a tall, wide bucket. A pulsating pain in his back made it difficult to sit back straight without grunting.

“I guessed as much. Does Paladon not allow you to talk or is your mouth taken away from you when you enroll in their army?”

Silence. Nakol was starting to believe the latter. To be so still was to either be a lunatic or to lack a mouth. And he was already beginning to lose his mind.

Rubbing his head, he snorted. “By Mother's name… you are so incredibly dull.” he pointed a hand at the soldier and frowned “Remind me to never visit Paladon if I want to keep my sanity.”

By his feet, a clump of stones built a tiny mountain, pieces fell by his efforts. Squinting his eyes, Nakol sat on them, sighing deeply and letting the pickaxe rest by a nearby cracked wall.

The soldier’s arms came beside him and took a step forward.

Nakol lifted a hand. “Relax. I’m just taking a few moments to unwind. I’ll return, just let me be for now, go bother the others.” he said, yawning

That was half the truth. What Nakol really wanted was to rest. Let others mine for the bastards. Drenched in water, his clothes almost felt like part of him at this point. Trying to let some air flow in, he pinched his shirt, struggling to pull it apart but to no avail. Footsteps echoed nearby, making Nakol lift his head. The man coming was whistling. So Paladon’s soldiers actually had personality after all. There was no way a member of the band would have such a good temper when overworked like a dog, buried under rocks, barely able to breathe or see. It had to be a soldier coming towards him.

The figure came into sight and chuckled. “Nakol, come on up. Stop wasting time. We got work to do.”

Nakol snorted. “What, are you with them now? Give me some time to breathe, Mikon,” he waved dismissively. “Make sure to not impress those bastards too much, or they might just enroll you in their strange little club.”

Mikon chuckled and hauled his pickaxe over his shoulder. “They would have to pay me handsomely for that. But I’m being serious now, get up. If I come back here a fourth time and I see you sitting again, I’ll lose my mind,” the man said, frowning.

Sighing deeply, Nakol stood up and grabbed his pickaxe. “Fine, fine. Whatever makes you smile, you are in desperate need of a change of spirit.”

“My spirit is fine, thank you for your care. I just want to be done and go home. I promised Rilia I’ll be back in Faye for her birthday.”

“Right… forgot about that. How old is she again?”

“Six. The little scoundrel is growing fast. Almost too fast.” he replied with a hint of sadness in his eyes

Nakol approached Mikon and placed a palm on his shoulder, patting it firmly. “You’ll make it back in time, brother. Now brighten up, we got work to do, you just said that yourself.”

The man faked a smile. “I… suppose,” he turned away, “still… it’s tough.”

“Oh, I feel you.”

“You don’t, brother. Wait until you have a child. Nothing comes close to it.” Mikon said and paced forward, shoulders slouched even more so than usual.

In a way, he was right. Having children requires a lot from you. The love, the care, the responsibility placed upon your shoulders was unlike anything one would feel until such a point in their lives. Caring for Amixia was different and much less troubling. She understood he was unable to be close to her presently, she understood he took on this job for them, for a better future he could provide her with. A child? Most likely won’t see things in such a manner. Poor Mikon.

“Blasted stones!” someone shouted desperately from another cavern, behind Nakol.

He twirled, glanced to his right to see the soldier standing, eyeing him with that odd, faceless stare of his. Nakol gazed forward and ran down the dark tunnel, hoping to reach the place of the shout before the soldier caught up to him. Taking a sharp left turn, almost tumbling due to tons of tiny stones scattered around, he eventually reached another room, carved by one of his brethren. The man cursed profoundly as he slammed the pickaxe in the stone wall without caution for himself or for those around. What had gotten into him all of a sudden? Nakol knew the mines could make one go insane but he did not expect older fellows such as the one before him to be easily influenced.

He approached with care, trying to get out of his wild, erratic swings.

“Alizion! Are you trying to kill yourself?”

The man halted and breathed deeply, rage flowing from him like from a starving beast.

“Leave me be!” he yelled, his head twirling quick, infuriated eyes latched onto Nakol

“Brother, relax. I’m here to help you. What’s wrong?” he asked, lifting his eyebrows high

“I don’t… need… your help! I just need those blasted ores to come out already! Where are you? Where are you, you stupid metals?” Alizion said under heavy breaths

“They are not dogs, brother. They won’t reply to you calling them. Put down your pickaxe and unwind for a while.”

“No! I need… I need the metals, Nakol, the metals,” his eyes darted around the room, landing on the soldier overseeing him “the metals will get us home. I need to find them. I need to be productive.”

“We are already being paid because of the contract, old man. You don’t need to overwork yourself to death,” Nakol glanced at the soldier close to Alizion “they do look tough, but they won’t murder you for not finding metals.”

The old man returned to smashing his pickaxe sporadically, no thought for those around him. “I need the metals. I need the metals. Come out! Come to me, wretched ores! Come to me!” he said, whimpering and shaking until eventually the old man fell into sobbing violently.

Nakol’s eyes widened and he hurried forward, catching Alizion as he was about to fall on the rough ground. The old man wept, jolting irregularly as tears fell on his wrinkled cheeks.

“I need… the ores…” Alizion whispered under uneven breaths “oh… I’m sorry Vimie… I’m sorry my dear Vimie…”

Nakol shushed the man. “It’s alright… Alizion, you’re going to be fine.”

The old man extended an arm forward and grabbed Nakol by the shoulder, digging his face into his chest and giving himself time to weep violently. Nakol recalled the woman mentioned by him. Vimie. Alizion’s wife. Word came four days ago that she sadly was no more. Ever since he found out, Alizion detached himself from the band, focusing solely on the work, treating everyone with the same amount of indifference. Nakol’s eyes fell half-closed. Once again, a vision of the person whom he loved the most washed over into his mind. Amixia. He pulled Alizion closer, holding him tighter, feeling a tear flow down his cheek. What would his reaction be if he was in Alizion’s place? How would he deal with it? And how much would he blame himself for not being there for his wife in the moment of her demise?

Nakol closed his eyes and held Alizion, the old man struggling to control his sobs. The soldier overseeing Nakol entered the room, marching with his head held high. Same disciplined attitude the bastards always had, no matter the situation they were in. Nearing them, he snapped his finger and the other soldier joined by his side. The moment they approached Nakol and Alizion, they grabbed them by the shoulders aggressively, trying to distance them.

“You fools!” Nakol cried out under struggling breaths.

None of them seemed bothered by his reaction, focused only on bringing them back to work. Nakol fought back, his eyes narrowed in anger as he tried escaping the soldier’s grasp. It was useless to resist, their clenched hands feeling like the claws of a beast eager to consume its kill. Eventually, they were departed, Alizion was brought back up like he weighed about as much as a leaf and Nakol found himself still fighting back, dragged across the sharp floor.

“Leave me be, you imbecile!”

Hurried footsteps echoed nearby and out of the darkness emerged two familiar figures — Mikon and Kaliez.

“What in Mother’s name are you all doing?” Mikon asked, narrowing his eyebrows

Nakol gave no response and kept resisting the soldier’s demands. In the end, he escaped his grasp and stood up suddenly. Twirling his head around, he saw Alizion’s pickaxe on the ground and picked it up without giving it much thought. He turned and lifted the pickaxe, biting on his lower lip as he struck downwards towards the soldier’s helmet. About time the bastard learned a lesson!

Noticing Nakol’s attack upon him, the soldier lifted an arm and tapped twice on the crystal in his helmet. It sprung to life with a glow, illuminating the room in which they sat a pale blue. The pickaxe landed on the crystal with an echoing bang. Raising his head, Nakol saw the pickaxe jabbed in the soldier’s helmet… but it did naught. The helmet had no scratch on it, not even a tiny crack. His mouth fell half-open. It couldn’t be. The bastard’s armor was strong enough… to withstand the strike of a pickaxe with no visible damage? Absolutely nothing? Just what kind… of armor was that?

In an instant, the soldier grabbed Nakol by the right arm and punched him, giving him no time to react. For a brief moment, his vision fell into a spectacle of blurred lines and he tumbled on the ground. Mikon and Kaliez hurried to his side, lifting him.

A piercing thump came moments later. Still stunned, Nakol opened his eyes wide, blinking fast a couple of times, trying to make sense of where the sound originated. Before him stood the soldier who threw the pickaxe he held moments later on the ground and pushed it forward with one foot, in an unconcerned manner.

“That was your first and final warning. Now, mine,” said the soldier in a high-pitched, muffled voice.

Once again, he tapped twice on the crystal and it faded to black. Then both soldiers marched out the cavern and into the corridor. Pain throbbed in his head. Nakol was helped back on his feet and touching his nose, he spotted blood on his fingers. His face flushed. Wretched Paladon. Exerting him to death and then smacking him for daring to stand up to them? When poor Alizion was in the state he was? How dare they? What kind of men acted that way? No, they were not men. Merely resembled them in body and characteristics, but behind those masks… lived something vile. Beasts. And unknowingly, the band just signed their lives away in their care.