Ch10: Mine and Magic.

The next morning, Archeas woke up with the first light of dawn filtering through the small, grimy window of his room. Determined to start his new path, he dressed quickly and made his way to the office where miners were hired.

To his surprise, the process was straightforward and hassle-free. The office was a simple, unadorned building, and Archeas joined a short line of men waiting to sign up. When his turn came, he approached the desk where a stern-looking woman sat, her expression cold and unwelcoming.

"Name?" she asked curtly, not bothering to look up from her papers.

"Archeas," he replied, keeping his tone respectful despite her rudeness.

She scribbled something on a form and handed it to him without a word. He glanced down at the paper, seeing it was a simple contract. After signing it, he returned it to her, and she finally looked up, her eyes scanning him critically.

"Pickaxe is over there," she said, pointing to a rack by the wall. "Report to the foreman at the entrance to the mines. Don't be late."

"Thank you," Archeas said, taking the pickaxe and turning to leave. As he walked out, he couldn't help but mutter under his breath, "She could at least pretend to be polite."

The entrance to the mines was a bustling area, filled with workers preparing for the day's labor. Archeas found the foreman, a burly man with a thick beard and a booming voice, and introduced himself.

"New, are ya?" the foreman barked. "Well, we'll see if you can handle it. Follow the others and get to work. And remember, this ain't a place for slackers."

"Yes, sir," Archeas replied, gripping his pickaxe tightly.

As he descended into the dark, cool depths of the mine, Archeas felt a mix of apprehension and determination. The work was hard and dangerous, but it was a chance to prove himself and earn an honest living.

The day passed in a blur of physical exertion and the rhythmic clinking of pickaxes against stone. Archeas quickly fell into the rhythm, the muscles in his arms burning with the effort. The other miners, though rough and gruff, worked alongside him without complaint, creating a strange sense of camaraderie.

During a short break, Archeas wiped the sweat from his brow and glanced around at his fellow workers. "So, this is my new life," he thought, feeling both a sense of pride and the weight of the challenge ahead. "I'll make it work. One step at a time."

Archeas continued with his work, toiling away for hours in the dim, oppressive depths of the mine. The rhythmic clink of his pickaxe striking rock became a constant companion as he dug deeper and deeper, sweat streaming down his face and arms.

By the end of the day, he had collected a huge amount of material. Feeling a sense of accomplishment, he hauled his load to the surface, eager to see what his hard work had earned him.

At the pay station, the foreman counted out a mere five brass coins and handed them to Archeas without a second glance.

"Five coins?" Archeas asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Is that all?"

The foreman's eyes narrowed, and he turned to Archeas with a scowl. "What's that? You got a problem, boy?"

Archeas hesitated, then spoke up, "I just thought… with all the material I collected, I'd earn more."

The foreman let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head. "You're new, so I'll let it slide this once. What you brought in is mostly useless rocks, barely any valuable ore. You think you're the first greenhorn to make that mistake?"

Archeas felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment and frustration. "I didn't realize—"

"Of course you didn't," the foreman interrupted, his tone gruff. "You want to earn more, you better learn to tell the difference between rock and ore. Now get out of here and don't waste my time."

"Yes, sir," Archeas muttered, pocketing the meager pay and walking away.

As he made his way back to the inn, the weight of the day's labor and the sting of the foreman's words settled heavily on his shoulders. "I have to get better at this," he thought, determination hardening in his chest. "I won't let them treat me like a fool."

He climbed the stairs to his small room, each step feeling heavier than the last. Once inside, he sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the five brass coins in his hand. "This isn't enough," he whispered to himself. "I need to do better. I need to learn faster."

Exhausted but resolute, Archeas lay back on his bed, his mind already planning the next day's work. He would watch the more experienced miners, ask questions, and do whatever it took to improve. The road ahead was long and fraught with challenges, but Archeas was no stranger to hardship.

"I'll prove myself," he vowed quietly, clutching Harlan's hammer for comfort. "I'll find the valuable ore and make a real living. I won't be defeated by this city."

However, even though Archeas was determined, the path wasn't easy. The days in the mines were long and grueling, his body aching from the relentless labor. But Archeas was nothing if not tenacious. He observed, he listened, and he learned. Despite the hardships, he kept pushing forward.

After three months of ceaseless toil, Archeas discovered something remarkable: magic. One evening, exhausted and sore, he sat in his small room, the weight of frustration heavy on his shoulders. He closed his eyes and focused inward, sensing the faint stirrings of something within him. For weeks, he had felt it, an intangible energy that seemed to pulse just beneath the surface of his consciousness.

"Maybe it's time to try something different," he thought, taking a deep breath and allowing himself to relax. Slowly, he concentrated on that inner energy, willing it to manifest. To his amazement, he felt a tingling sensation spread through his limbs, and then, with a focused effort, he directed it outward.

He opened his eyes to see a faint, shimmering glow surrounding his hands. "This… this is mana," he whispered in awe, feeling a thrill of excitement and fear. Over the next few days, Archeas practiced diligently, learning to control and manipulate the mana. It was a slow and sometimes frustrating process, but he was determined to master it.

One night, an idea struck him. "What if I can use this to help me in the mines?" he wondered. The next day, he went to work with renewed purpose. When he reached the depths of the mine, he found a quiet corner and closed his eyes, extending his mana into the ground.

"Distinguish the minerals from the rock," he whispered, visualizing the energy spreading thinly beneath him, sensing the different textures and densities. To his astonishment, he felt the distinct presence of ore veins, glowing faintly in his mind's eye.

"I can do this," he realized, a smile spreading across his face. "I can really do this."

He named his new ability "Distinguished Ground" and began to use it daily. With each passing day, Archeas grew more adept at identifying valuable minerals, his success steadily increasing. His newfound skill did not go unnoticed, and the foreman began to pay him more respect, though he still kept the secret of his magic to himself.

In the quiet moments of the evening, as he lay on his bed, Archeas felt a sense of pride and accomplishment. "I've come a long way," he thought, staring at the ceiling. "But this is just the beginning. With this power, I can do so much more."