Book 2 Ch 42: Mine

The world is growing smaller. The more lands we take and colonies we conquer the more we brush against our enemies. Conflict is inevitable as is our victory.

• General Thrugood

The next several days went by smoothly, but the nights were hard. After the visit from The One Who Craves, came visits from The One Who Thirsts and The One Who Hungers. In the middle of the night Solomon would awake feeling a kind of thirst that not even draining his waterskin could satisfy or he’d wake with hunger pangs despite knowing that he’d had a full meal. Along with that were sightings in everyone’s peripheral at the edges of camp in the night and howls of unknown beasts in the night that set limbs to trembling.

In spite of how miserable they all awoke, they all travelled much harder than they might have otherwise, worried that someone would make a mistake eventually and wanting to leave the jungle as soon as possible. These kinds of sightings were rare, and to have them back to back as they were made the Untoss in particular edgy and nervous.

Solomon felt he bore the lion's share of the responsibility. Despite the fact that his mana was suppressed by the bangle on his arm the gods seemed able to sense the impression of the elven god’s mana within him. Unfortunately there was little he could do to fix the problem. He did briefly consider confronting one of them, but aside from the fact that these gods seemed older and stronger than the Lord of the Blackwood, he wouldn’t have even beaten him without the null-metal and months of preparation.

When the edge of the jungle came into view it was as if a knot within everyone’s gut had been undone. They exited the heavily shadowed canopy into a rockier plain with large mountains in the distance with odd flat tops to them. The Untoss said that their old gods had cut the tips of the mountains away as they reached too high and it offended them.

Since they were out of the jungle and more relaxed, Solomon managed to interject himself into a conversation among the mages, eventually managing to work in his own question.

“I’ve heard all of you speak about learning magic at the academy, but none of you have mentioned actually creating a spell. Is it a difficult thing to do? For instance could one of you come up with something to keep the smell of the ichthys from reaching me?”

He got a few chuckles at the joke as Jakul turned to him.

“It’s not as simple as all that.”

“Isn’t it? Baru’s demonstration the other day made some spells seem quite simple. A word, a gesture, and I’d assume some of that magical energy you all have seems to be all that you need.”

“That’s all you need for an established spell,” he paused, frowning a bit. “Magic isn’t as flexible as most people seem to believe. It…” He looked over to Baru. “You took theory with Ginny right? How did she put it?”

“Spells wear grooves in a stone pattern.”

“Yeah, that’s it.” He turned back to Solomon. “All of the spellwork of the past has worn grooves. Every time a spell is cast a certain way it seems to make it harder to cast it any other way. Over centuries that means that some spells have become completely singular in how they can be cast. Human mages cast fireballs nearly the same way as orcs and elves do. It’s in their own language and format, but the actual casting is the same.”

“If I was trying to come up with a spell from scratch, but that spell had already been performed across the world a thousand times the same way then it would be impossible for me to cast it unless I got extremely lucky or gained access to that version of the spell.”

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“What about your research?” asked Solomon gesturing to the tattoos on the man’s arm.

“This isn’t a new spell, but a combination of spells and techniques that were already in place. My research is more about choosing which ones best work together rather than inventing anything new.”

Solomon nodded, keeping his expression neutral as the value of his access to the repository became exponentially higher in his mind.

Baru chimed in. “The other danger is if you try something new and it’s been done the spell fails and the mana needs to go somewhere. Sometimes it dissipates on its own, but often it jolts violently back to the caster. People have been blown up, or had their mana permanently damaged trying to invent a new spell wholecloth.”

Solomon shook his head, smiling at them.

“I think the two of you have made magic far more boring than I ever thought it was.”

“They shouldn’t be mentioning any of this to you at all,” mentioned one of the other mages in the cart. “It's privileged Union information.”

Jakul scoffed.“Go tell the nearest inquisitor then. I think they’re a couple hundred miles that way,” he pointed vaguely back toward the jungle. “Besides, it's not like there’s anything he can do with the information.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know my asking could get you in trouble,” offered Solomon.

“Don’t worry about it. Sil’s just grumpy from godly harassment.”

Solomon nodded, and they shifted from the conversation about magic to more games of Strange Fate. He was feeling grateful he hadn’t been tempted to try anything original with his mana. He’d been considering trying to push mana into a spear or something similar the same way he did when he cast discus, but he couldn’t imagine that there wasn’t already a spell for that. He wished he had a more formal education on magic, but it wasn’t as if he had many options on that front.

After another more relaxed night they were nearing the closest of the mountains. The mine that Vaughn and his men were assigned to defend was there.

They reached the mine in the late afternoon. From a distance it looked like a small town. There was a wall of wooden stakes, several watchtowers, and more than a dozen low buildings in the Untoss style. They were waved through the gate and greeted by a sergeant. Solomon could see a number of chained orcs and Untoss pushing carts and hauling stone. Many had open and bleeding wounds and all of them were covered in scars.

After the Sergeant had finished getting everyone else organized he approached Solomon and Edmure, bowing to the former.

“Lord Morrow, your brother is supervising at the entrance to the mine. I will take you directly to him.”

Solomon gestured for the man to lead the way and fell in behind him, taking everything in as he moved. When his brother had first joined the Drakthiss military he’d been an aide to a general that was active in directly attacking the orcs and driving them from their own mines. From there he’d risen through the ranks until he’d been given command of this mine. While it was considered ‘the front’, in truth the fiercest of the fighting was further toward the interior where Orcs and their own Untoss allies staged frequent raids. While they had mines of their own, their primary strategy had been to stage raids and capture caravans after the hard work had been done by Drakthiss.

The mine seemed very well organized. None of the Drakthiss soldiers or Untoss supports’ uniforms seemed even remotely out of place and diligent attention to rank seemed to be the norm. While the war prisoners doing the mining were clearly heavily disciplined, none of them seemed to be starving either, and none of the injuries that had been inflicted were crippling.

They reached the mine entrance which was very active, filled with workers and overseers all working hard. Next to it a wooden platform had been erected, and in the center of that platform was a desk behind which sat his brother Vaughn, making marks in a ledger and responding to letters even as he observed what was going on below him.

Vaughn was the only one of the Morrow children aside from Chorde to take more after their father than their mother. His hair was light blonde close to white and his eyes were the dark gray of stone. He was only slightly shorter than Solomon, but nearly twice as broad, and his face seemed to be locked in a stoic expression of judgement at all times.

When Solomon reached the desk Vaughn was checking a watch, marking that work was five minutes ahead of his expectations.

“Five minutes behind!” he barked as he set the watch back down on the desk in front of himself.

The miners all began moving more quickly as the overseers became a bit more free with their lashes and yelled their orders more loudly.

Vaughn turned his attention to Solomon fully and stood from his desk. He looked his younger brother up and down, his eyes lingering on Crimson Command.

“Welcome brother. I was surprised when Chorde told me that you’d be the one to deliver our family’s blade. I assumed your health would make it too difficult for you. It seems my concerns were unfounded.”