We go deeper into the mine.
The tunnel narrows as we descend, the ceiling lowering until I have to duck slightly to avoid hitting my head on the support beams.
The air gets colder, damper.
The darkness presses in from all sides, held back only by the small circle of light from Renna's lantern.
The cart behind me groans with every pull, the wheels scraping against the uneven stone floor.
My arms are screaming. My back is on fire. Every muscle in my body is protesting, but I keep going.
Renna walks ahead, silent and focused. She hasn't said much since we started working, just giving occasional directions—"This way," "Stop here," "Load it up."
The sound of our footsteps echoes off the walls. The dripping water is louder down here, closer. I can hear it splashing somewhere in the darkness ahead.
And then I notice something else.
A smell.
Faint at first, barely noticeable under the earthy scent of stone and mineral. But as we go deeper, it gets stronger.
It's... wrong. Not quite rot, not quite metal. Something organic and chemical mixed together. Like old blood and rust and something else I can't identify.
It makes my skin crawl.
"Do you smell that?" I ask, my voice echoing in the tunnel.
Renna doesn't turn around. "Smell what?"
"That... I don't know. Something weird."
"It's a mine," she says flatly. "Everything smells like dirt and rock. You'll get used to it."
But I can't shake the feeling that something's off. The smell. The silence. The way the darkness seems heavier down here.
We reach another section where the tunnel widens slightly.
The walls here have a different quality—shinier, with veins of something that glints in the lantern light.
Renna stops and sets the lantern down on a flat rock.
"Here," she says. "This vein has some good deposits. Rare stuff. Worth more than the iron."
She hands me my pickaxe and moves to a different section of the wall with her hammer and chisel.
I position myself and start swinging.
CLANG.
The sound echoes, louder than before. The tunnel carries it, amplifying it.
CLANG.
A chunk of rock breaks off. I can see the vein she was talking about—a silvery-gray mineral with a slight shimmer to it. It's beautiful in a way, catching the light.
We work in silence.
The only sounds are our tools striking stone, the echo of impacts, the occasional crunch of broken rock hitting the ground.
But that smell is still there. Getting stronger.
I try to focus on the work.
Swing, impact, chip. Swing, impact, chip.
My pickaxe strikes something different.
A section of the wall that sounds hollow.
I hit it again, harder this time.
A larger chunk breaks away, revealing a pocket in the stone.
And inside—
A mineral. Different from the others. It's about the size of my fist, crystalline, with a faint glow emanating from within.
Deep blue-green, like ocean water lit from below.
"Whoa," I breathe.
It's beautiful. And it looks valuable. Really valuable.
I lean in closer, examining it. The surface is smooth, polished by time or water. And in its dull, reflective surface, I can see—
Movement.
Behind me.
I freeze.
In the reflection of the crystal, distorted but clear enough, I see Renna.
She's not mining anymore.
She's turned toward me, her pickaxe raised above her head.
Both hands gripping the handle. The sharp point aimed at my back.
She's going to stab me.
Instinct takes over.
I throw myself to the side just as she brings the pickaxe down.
CRACK.