Chapter 159 - What Do I Care?

The faint clink of metal against stone echoed through the mine, accompanied by the flickering glow of lantern light. 

Sonder adjusted her grip on the lantern as Lunt Junior hefted his pickax, his knuckles whitening against the rough wood. 

He shifted his stance, muscles straining with each swing as he chipped away at the dark earth in front of him. 

The dull thud of the pick striking stone sent small vibrations through the ground, loosening chunks of dirt and rock that clattered to the floor at Sonder's feet. 

"This one's got a good shine to it," Lunt Junior said, crouching to inspect a newly dislodged fragment. 

His broad fingers turned the piece over, holding it up to the light. Despite his optimism, it looked just as dull and lifeless as the rest of the debris they'd unearthed so far. 

Still, he grinned, stuffing it into a burlap sack slung over his shoulder. "I've got a good feeling about this one." 

Sonder wiped a stray strand of hair from her face with the back of her wrist. It wasn't as though she was sweating, but it did make her uncomfortable.

When she'd agreed to accompany Lunt Junior into the mine, it had seemed like a good idea—a way to pass the time while Vell was busy, maybe learn something about the art of smithing. But now, watching the dwarf work tirelessly in the sweltering tunnels, she wasn't so sure.

The mine they worked in was public, long since declared 'dried up' and abandoned by the anyone who had interest in it. To Lunt Junior, though, it was still worth searching in.

"Old mines can still hold treasures," he'd told her earlier, with such sincerity. But so far, all they'd uncovered was dirt, rock, and his unwavering determination. 

Sonder leaned against one of the mine's wooden supports, its beams groaning faintly under the mountain's weight. Somewhere deeper in the tunnels, the steady drip of water echoed with an irregular rhythm.

She was reluctant to pick up a pickax herself. It wasn't the physical effort that held her back but an instinct—a nagging feeling that she learned in Celadon—that the earth might not appreciate being disturbed. 

Instead, she pressed her palm against the rough wall of the mine, feeling the cool, unyielding stone beneath her fingers. The mountain had been lived in and hollowed out for centuries, its veins mined for every scrap of metal it could yield. 

She let her mana flow outward, reaching into the stone, just like she had done with other elements, in search of a voice—an impression—anything. 

The response came suddenly, startling her. It wasn't a feeling or a whisper but something almost audible, firm and dismissive in its simplicity: "I don't care."

Sonder blinked, pulling her hand back instinctively, as she had never gotten an impression so clearly from nature. 

The earth had spoken—if it could be called that—and told her all that she needed to know.

Her mana had also caught faint traces of something else.

"There's ore in that direction," Sonder said, pointing deeper into the tunnel. 

Lunt Junior straightened, wiping sweat from his brow with his forearm. He followed her gesture, squinting into the darkness. "Are you sure?" 

"I'm sure," she replied, her tone firm. 

The dwarf hefted his pickax over his shoulder. "Well, then, lead the way, Oracle of the Stone!"