2403 Qintax 8, Daleth

The fire crackling in the hole dug into the sandy soil made the shadows of their friends dance against the cavern's drab, rocky walls. Rhys tried to ease the tension in his shoulders that had plagued him since forever. He failed. Instead, he blew a breath and leaned against the wall on his side.

Around him, the friends they made along the way from working in the godsforsaken mines sat in a hazy circle, all trying to chase away the cold creeping along their resting place. Korr had made it in secret after they were forced to excavate for a new shaft a few months ago. Now, they retreat here whenever they want to take a break from all the madness that were the mines.

Wynra and Nornel, the twin half-bloods who specialized in locating ore hotspots, have made it inside first. They were already here when Rhys strode in with Reeca in tow. Something about how the twins were able to score loads and loads of ores in every cavern they visited made Rhys curious. When Rhys asked them about how they were able to do that, Wynra answered, "Ya just havta feel it."

Which wasn't much to go on, if Rhys could be honest.

Now, Wynra sat on a makeshift stool made from a chipped chunk of rock from the walls, skinning a blob of fresda he stole from the passing merchant aboveground. When and how he did it was also something Rhys couldn't figure out. His twin, Nornel, fiddled with their similar curly dark hair, trying to dislodge debris from his scalp. Their dark eyes could have been brighter but after being stuck in the mines for most of their life, a lifeless cloud shrouded their pupils every time Rhys met them.

To the twins' left and to Rhys's right sat Korr, the man in charge of quarries. There wasn't any rock he couldn't break with his trusty pickaxe. The other miners called him Stone Master and after seeing him work in excavating this new cavern, Rhys could agree. The man looked like he didn't know rock was actually hard.

Today, however, the old human had plopped down on the ground with a loud grumble, crossing his legs before immediately starting a fire. Like Virion, the man the miners looked up to and considered their leader, Korr was one of the people who were working in the mines the longest. He was also the one who taught Rhys how to use an ax in hacking rock without breaking his wrist.

The certain memory elicited a small smile in Rhys's lips. From his right, Reeca flashed him a concerned look. His smile died just as quickly. When they first came here, the man Reeca had called "Hairy Man" throughout the journey pushed them inside the biggest excavated cavern, passed them pieces of parchment in which to write their names, and grumbled at them to hurry up.

After that brief moment, they were given scratchy tunics and trousers which smelled like someone died in them. Rhys remembered glancing at the endless dark brown ceiling above them, noting the slight rumble every now and then. Someone dying in their own clothes didn't sound like a far-fetched occurrence.

Then, days bled together until weeks, months, and years passed. Rhys's days were filled with looking at rocks, hauling the ones they mauled off the walls back to the main cavern—the one closer to the surface—, and protecting and watching over Reeca. He remembered negotiating with Hairy Man way back when for Reeca to be given a lighter load but all the man said, "I paid a whole lotta versal for that girl. She better work like she's got no future."

Anger curled in Rhys's gut just at the mere memory of it. Now, after failing to hide the fact they were varichriais, they have been given another task: to enchant each processed ore to give them more shine and strength. According to Virion, the weaved ores fetch more prices in the market, making Hairy Man happy.

Rhys scoffed, stirring the humid air with his hot breath. Happy, his foot. All Hairy Man cared about was increasing profit. He didn't care about the fact that anything weaved by a varichria only worked for a certain amount of time and that they only worked best when the weaver was in proximity. Wherever he's exporting those ores, whoever was buying, they would find out the ores were just a bunch of useless rocks by the time Hairy Man completed the shipment.

All he could do now was wait for some noble to come barging down here and threaten to shut the mines down. So far, no one did. Nothing happened.

Rhys crossed his arms in front of his chest, studying his sister, out of things to do to pass the night before the guards called them off to sleep. Her hair had gotten longer and she wasn't able to cut it ever since. Now, instead of being brushed straight, it was stuck in a messy bun she had to learn to tie herself. Rhys had always sucked with things involving spindly things. And he's a varichria. How ironic.

She had also gotten taller like he did. When they first got here and met their friends, Rhys only stood up to Korr's stomach. Reeca only reached the human's hips. Now, Rhys could look up at the man in a casual conversation without feeling like his neck was going to snap. Reeca, meanwhile, was up to Rhys's former height.

That wasn't the only thing that changed with them, though. Reeca had gone quieter since the long hours of escaping Arcole, being captured by poachers, and being drafted against their will into the mines. She didn't bother talking to anyone apart from a set of nods, shaking her head, and averting her eyes. She had never looked at anyone straight in the face, either. Even Rhys.

He tried his best to get her out of her shell to no avail. She also spent every hour of downtime they were granted sleeping or nibbling on the fresda Wynra steals for them. He was running out of options to try to get Reeca back to her old self. One of his fears was seeing Reeca grow up to be that way and spending her life without talking to anyone.

That wasn't a good way to live.

Their other friends couldn't make it tonight. They were still working on another cavern. It was days older than the one Rhys was in and, until now, was still not finished. Shouldn't they just send Korr there if they're struggling to break through the bedrock? He could finish faster.

Still, Rhys was glad they didn't. These shafts weren't the safest places in Umazure and could collapse in on them at any time. Rhys's rule to himself was to go in, get what they came for, and duck back out, all in the quickest time interval. He couldn't understand how he was sitting back by a cozy fire right now.

"You sure this cavern is safe?" Rhys asked Korr who looked up from his fifth piece of fresda. Already, a pile of steaming skins rose by his boots.

Korr shrugged—a clear gesture he wasn't the least bit concerned. "You see any cracks on the ceiling?"

"N-no," Rhys answered.

The human shoved the fresda into his mouth and bit down on it. "Then tis safe," he said while chewing.

"Do you know where we are?" Rhys blurted.

Wynra stopped midway in peeling another piece of fresda. A whole basket of it sat beside Nornel who was in charge of sticking the raw ones into a dried branch and holding it over the fire. "We're in the mines, last I checked," Wynra sniffed in disdain. "They've been keeping a good guard over their information so they wouldn't let our location spread even to its miners. We're dealing in the hidden market, after all."

Rhys blinked. That's new information. "Hidden market?"

Nornel nodded. Rhys always had trouble telling those two apart so he had to drop to the trail dimension every time. Now, Nornel's characteristic trail was bright when he said, "The island has a surplus of those. Existed for as long as Umazure is standing," he scratched the side of his face and must have forgotten he had ashy fingers. Rhys forced himself to stop staring at the black smear against his beige skin. "Hidden markets are separate from the free trade happening within the territories. They are much more unregulated, without taxes, and most importantly, without rules."

Rhys leaned forward. He's interested now. "And Hairy Man's active in the hidden market?"

Korr coughed into his fist. "If you mean Ilphar, then yes," he said. Ilphar? Was that Hairy Man's real name? Must be. "He is a known slave trader who owns a bunch of mining companies in Avalora, Lanbridhr, and Helinfirth. Managed to stay out of the royals' eyes for a long time. Would like to keep it that way."

What kind of man manages to run this empire of illegal businesses and still remain inconspicuous? Rhys should learn a thing or two about how Hairy Man did things. It should help him and his sister escape here.

"How do you know his name and where his companies are?" Rhys prodded. "Besides, how do you know it if he's keeping it hidden?"

Korr sighed and braced his knees. "Kid, don't ask 'stupid questions if you don't want to be called a moron," he said. "I've been here the longest. I get to hear some things. Miners talk. Merchants talk."

"And now, you talk," Rhys said. "Would he kill us, though?"

Nornel snorted. "After going through the trouble of hiring poachers to kidnap people suited for the mines?" he shook his head. "You can be stupid, sometimes, kid. I'll give you that."

Being called stupid twice in a row stirred annoyance in Rhys's gut. Well, was it his fault for not knowing stuff? First, he needed to be shut inside a castle and now he was trapped in a mine. Different in lighting and space, but in terms of being suffocating, all the same.

"He won't kill us since we provide most of his income," Wynra clarified, as if things weren't still clear to Rhys. "But he sure won't let us escape."

"Have you tried?" Rhys asked.

The three men paused. Silence filled the cavern in a way that only the slight crackle of flames eating the firewood could be heard. Rhys raised his eyebrows. "Hello?" he waved his hand at his friends. "Anything wrong?"

Korr clicked his tongue. The twins shook their heads repeatedly. "That's dagrine crap," he said. "No one ever escaped from this hellhole since forever. I don't like to see how it ends for people who try."

Rhys narrowed his eyes. "So, there haven't been any attempts."

Nornel brought his branch down by resting his elbows against his crossed legs. "Look, I know you're eager to live your youthful life and whatnot," he said, not seeming to care about the fresda stuck at the end of the stick being plunged straight in the heart of the fire. The smell of burning food filled the air. "But whether you like it or not, we're stuck here. There's no point in trying to escape if you know what probably lies at the end of the tunnel."

"Probably," Rhys echoed the word. "Probably is not definitive. There's still a chance."

Wynra hummed, snatching the stick from his brother and gave his twin a stern look for being distracted. "Don't go chasing things that wouldn't happen," he said. "There are guards hired at every exit point. You wouldn't be able to get an inch close without being chopped to pieces. They're trained by the Academy and some of the top military bases in the island. Don't try it."

Rhys pursed his lips. So Ilphar has money to do just that? How much does it take to get a soldier trained by the highest educational institution in the island to work in a dimly-lit environment and aiding the survival of the hidden markets? Rhys could only guess: a lot.

A small laugh tore from him, humorless and full of derision. "So we're stuck here?"

Korr chuckled, a little too hearty for Rhys's mood. "Tell you what, boy, we'd reach the ice sprites at the rate we're going with the mining."

Rhys blinked. "Ice sprite?"

"You don't know that as well?" Wynra laughed. "That's basic knowledge for the rest of us."

"Why don't we tell him, eh?" Korr interjected. Rhys was grateful for that, at least. "It would save us the breath of explaining it to him later on."

Nornel grunted. He took the burnt fresda from his brother and peeled it anyway. "Well, according to the old tales of the Human-Fairy War," he started, clicking his tongue when some of the ash from his hands got into the peeled area of his food. "There was a time in the Sprites territory where they used their own kin for entertainment."

Rhys knitted his eyebrows. "Why?"

Wynra rolled his shoulders, dusting his hands into the fire. The flames edged away from the wind stirred by the motion. "Coulda been anything, really," he said. "The Ice Sprites were considered the most deadly beings among the sprites. They can turn anything to ice, including your blood. Some of the stories don't mention it much, but they also can kill off the entire island just by freezing everything."

"So what?" Rhys's back found the wall again, letting the cold seep through his shoulders, making his muscles more tense. "The Ice sprites haven't done that, right?"

"Kind of like nipping things by the bud before it blossoms into a flower," Korr added, kissing his teeth. "The Sprites feared their Ice kin so bad they ended up capturing them and having them fight each other at the expense of the wealthy's entertainment."

Rhys frowned. "While the war was ongoing?"

"While the war was ongoing," Nornel confirmed. "It wasn't the best time to be alive, really. The fairies have finally united against something. Unfortunately, they united because of a stupid thing."

"Which is?"

"Reviving the Fountain of Youth," Wynra supplied. It introduced a new kind of silence in their midst. Rhys had never learned this from the history books. Then again, those tomes were written by the fairies, in the first place. "That's why they're bent on taking over Cardina after some poor sod claimed it's where Jatoma once was."

Jatoma. It wasn't something Rhys heard often. Must be Cardina's old name? Maybe? "Either way," Korr sniffed again, earning Rhys's attention. "While the armies were trading fire with the humans, the nobles back home had nothing to do. They had no one to protect them should the Ice Sprites get tired of being ostracized and staged a coup. Another misguided witch thought it was a good idea to introduce the sport. Was the stupidest idea, ever."

"Yeah, can agree with you on that one, Korr," Nornel said. "Basically, what happened was they captured the Ice Sprites and promised them freedom if they succeeded in killing their kin in a staged fight where all the nobles were watching. It's messed up."

Wynra frowned. "What's more messed up was that nobody did anything," he said. "Everyone thought it was fine and even joined in the audience. Humans and fairies. Both didn't bother to help. So, the ice sprites did what's best for their people."

Rhys didn't speak, letting them answer it on their own.

"They vanished," Korr said, glancing at Wynra to see if it was alright to take over. "Like they never existed at all. There were several theories, like the Arbotro finally stepping in and ending the race's demise, but the most prevalent theory was that they never really went extinct. Far from that."

Rhys propped his elbows against his thighs. Interesting. "They claimed that the Ice Sprites went into the only place where no one could reach them," Korr's eyes twinkled. "Underground. Right where we are."

"Then again, that's just a theory," Nornel shrugged. "No one really did see an ice sprite for hundreds of years so we could just assume they're gone."

"How could you be so sure?" Rhys narrowed his eyes.

Wynra scoffed. "Probably better if we don't search for 'em as well, you know?" he said. "They went through all the trouble concealing themselves. Let's give 'em the space as a sign of respect for their ancestors who suffered in the war, eh?"

Rhys let his shoulders sag. Enthusiasm bled out of his skin just as quickly. "Yeah," he said. "I guess. Do you really think we'd reach 'em accidentally?"

Korr snorted. "If you ain't flitting to the fantasy land in your head," he said. "You'd know it's just an expression."

Nornel groaned into his fist, smearing more ash to his chin. "So we basically explained in vain?"

Korr jerked his chin in Rhys's direction. "Blame his stupid ass."

"Hey!" Rhys complained.

The group burst into laughter after that. Despite them undermining Rhys's intelligence, it was actually not bad. Apart from the miners joining them for a grouped meal, these three were the only ones kind enough to teach Rhys and Reeca everything they knew about staying alive inside the mines. Rhys owed them pretty much everything.

That's why the idea of the ice sprites appealed to him. Like Rhys and Reeca, their friends have nowhere else to go. Most of them were sold to the poachers or living alone in the forests when they got captured and brought here. Having a hidden place where one wouldn't be able to find them, wouldn't that be the most ideal place he could bring his sister and his friends to? They wouldn't need to run, to look behind their backs, or to worry about the quota of ores they needed to meet. That would be the only wish he had for his friends.

Before he could open his mouth to say that, though, footsteps rang from the darkness beyond their hiding spot. Rhys cursed, stretching his hand to withdraw his magic from the fire. It snuffed out in an instant, plunging them in complete darkness. "How did they find us?" Rhys demanded, whirling to grasp Reeca's hand. He turned to the vague direction he remembered Korr to be last. "I thought it's hidden!"

Korr cursed, a little more colorful than Rhys. "Someone must have tattled."

Of course. No secrets were safe in this place. Someone would always be bound to talk. That didn't matter now. Rhys turned to his friends. Their grim expressions were the first to register as soon as his vision adjusted. "Let's go."

Together, they tore off into the opposite direction. They trusted Korr enough to know his way around the shafts. He could get them back into the main cavern.

Just then, the ceiling began trembling. Rudik's breeches. What now?

"The influx of people jarred the upper rock layer," Korr shouted from the front. Wynra and Nornel were in the rear. "It's not safe here now!"

True enough, cracks began spreading in the ceiling. Rhys gritted his teeth. "Go, go!" he shouted, pushing Reeca in front of him and urging her to run after Korr who was already disappearing into the veil of darkness beyond them. He turned to the twins and stepped aside. "You go first. I'll catch up."

Nornel pushed past Rhys and ran after Reeca. Wynra stayed behind. He nodded at Rhys. "I'll stay behind. Someone might fire magic. I could at least summon a shield."

Rhys didn't have time to argue with that. The ceiling groaned. Debris began raining on them. Their footsteps padded against the compact soil, seemingly shaking more and more bits of rocks free. But what choice do they have except to run?

More voices rang in the dark behind them. The sound of metal scratching the walls told Rhys enough of what weapons they were carrying. He looked at his companions running ahead and behind him. The most they had was a piece of fresda still clutched by Wynra's hands.

A whistling sound rang in the air. Rhys turned too late. Light speared towards him. That's going to do him in. A shadow whizzed in front of him. Wynra yelled a spell, a disc of magic forming at his splayed palms. It only succeeded in redirecting the enemy spell into another direction. His scream died in his throat when the spear of magic slammed into a widening crack, exploding with a resounding boom.

Rhys burst forward, reaching for Wynra's sleeve. "Come on!" he yelled. He didn't care if his voice carried all the way to the soldiers coming to get them. "Grab my hand!"

As a response, Wynra smiled. "I'll deal with 'em. You go with the others," he jerked his chin. "We don't have much time. I'll catch up."

Rhys opened his mouth to disagree. Then, tons of rock, dust, and soil dropped in front of him, almost in a calculated move. No. Did...did Wynra planned to merely redirect the spell to bring the cavern down? What was he thinking?

Someone pulled Rhys back by the arm. Then, he was running. He couldn't forget the memory of a single, burnt fresda rolling to a stop by his boots. Reeca waited for him by the lip of another shaft. When he caught up, she gripped his arm, staring at the silent cavern they just left behind. Then, with a low voice, she said. "I'm going to kill them. All of them."

Chills speared down Rhys's spine. "There's a need for that," he whispered to Reeca, taking her hand in his and squeezing it despite the roiling emotions in his chest. "I'll get you out of here without you killing anyone. I swear by Daexis's name."

And it's a promise he would go to the ends of the world to fulfill. No matter what happened.