(1)
Darkness. The world was a cold empty void. Roran couldn't feel his body. For a time there had been the sensation of falling but now there was nothing. Slowly, Roran's body began to feel warm.
"Stay with me!"
Roran's eyes flickered open. Sarah was leaning over him, her face a pale mask in the darkness. She kept shaking him over and over again.
"Come on, it's going to be okay. Don't fall asleep!"
Despite Sarah's words, Roran's eyes were heavy. Sarah moved over top of him, pressing her body against his and holding him. Roran tried to stay awake but it was futile. He was swallowed by the darkness again.
"Wake up! Wake up dammit! They're coming!"
Roran couldn't move. He couldn't see and he couldn't remember where he was. Sarah's voice was quiet despite her yelling. He was warm and comfortably numb. All Roran had to do was lie there and slip away.
His body jerked. Suddenly there was a pinprick of light above him and two shadowy figures standing nearby. Sarah was standing over Roran, shaking him again.
"Move damn you! Prove you're not dead or they're going to leave you here."
One of the figures moved closer. It was shorter than the other and covered in thick coats. A torch burned in its hand, the greasy flame flickering in the wind.
"Oh fine!" Sarah stood up, facing the two figures. "Help him."
Both of the figures jumped, looking around for the source of the sound.
Louder, Sarah shouted, "He's alive. Help him!"
Hesitantly, the short figure moved closer to Roran. It put a hand on his chest and pushed down hard. Roran coughed and groaned. The figure looked back at the taller one and nodded its head. Moving slowly, the taller figure came over and knelt next to Roran. Finally, they began to dig him out of the snow.
Beside them, Sarah slumped and then vanished. Darkness once more swallowed Roran.
There was a sense of time passing and then Roran was no longer warm and comfortable. He was cold and his body hurt. He kept getting jostled and his muscles were cramping. He tried to move but found that he was tied down. A violent wave of shivers ran through his body and he was once more unconscious.
More time passed and the discomfort faded. He still hurt everywhere, but he was no longer being jostled. Though his movements were hampered, he could move freely again. He shifted and rolled onto his side. Forcing his eyes open, Roran saw that he was in a bed. Beside him was a small hearth with a fire burning inside. Tending to the hearth was a boy.
"Perth?" Opening his eyes wider, Roran tried to sit up. "Perth!"
The boy startled backwards, away from Roran. He was the same size and age as Perth had been but that was where the similarities ended. Where Perth had light colored hair, this boy's was dark and long. Where Perth had pale skin, this boy was tanned. Where Perth had been scrawny and emaciated, this boy was hard, with scars dotting his hands and wrists.
"You scared me, mister," said the boy.
"Sorry, I thought you were someone else."
"You sit right there, I'll go fetch Pa."
The boy disappeared, leaving Roran alone in a small room. Despite the blankets and the fire he was still freezing, so he wrapped himself back up and curled into a ball. Huddling on the edge of the bed, Roran said, "Sarah?"
No response.
"Sarah, are you there?"
Nothing.
The boy came back, followed by a large man. He had the same dark hair and tanned skin as the boy. A thick beard covered his face and dark eyes settled on Roran like a glacier settling into a ravine. The man moved slowly, one of his legs stiff and bound up with bits of metal. He sat down on a stool, his gaze still on Roran.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"Cold and sore," said Roran, "But I'm alive. I suppose I have you to thank for that."
"Zan is the one that found you," he said, placing a hand on the boy's head. "I just helped him drag you home."
"I heard a spirit calling to me," said the boy, Zan. "It was like a ghost or an angel. She told me where to find you and that I should bring help. Isn't that right Pa?"
"You weren't easy to find, that's for sure."
"But you heard her too, right Pa?"
The man didn't say anything, just continued to stare at Roran.
Shifting his attention to Zan, Roran said, "I have a spirit watching over me. She must have gone looking for help when I fell."
The boy's eyes lit up. "Really?"
Roran nodded. "Yup, her name is Alsarahnia. My mother asked her to look after me when she passed. She's been keeping an eye on me ever since."
"Wow. Does she protect you from wild animals and bandits and monsters and stuff?"
Roran laughed. "No, but she keeps me company and occasionally asks strangers to help me."
"Zan, why don't you go make us some tea."
"But Pa..."
"Just go boy, our new friend can tell you all about his pet spirit when you get back."
Pouting, Zan turned and left the room.
Once they were alone, the man leaned forward and examined Roran. After a moment he asked, "Where did you come from? You're not from around here and you weren't near any trails I've ever heard of."
"I'm a mercenary," said Roran, leaning on the cover story Sarah had come up with for them. "I was escorting a Talyrian Priestess to the Capital to study at the library. We got separated."
"I've never heard of a Talyrian before," said the man, tugging on his bear.
Roran waited, trying to remember all the details Sarah had given him back on Balaki's Dagger.
Shrugging, the man said, "Then again, I don't know much about religion." Sticking out his hand, he said, "I'm Vin."
Roran took the hand. "I'm Roran."
Vin squeezed and Roran winced in pain.
"Oh, sorry about that. Your hands and feet are going to be sore for a while. You managed to avoid the worst of the frostbite, but there was still some damage."
Examining his hands, Roran saw that patches of skin were peeling off. He grimaced and wished he'd brought healing salve with him. They'd left all of their medicinal supplies in the crates that had followed Roran off the cliff.
Zan returned with three steaming mugs of tea. He handed one to both Vin and Roran then crawled onto the edge of the bed and huddled around his mug of tea. "So, you have a guardian spirit?"
Roran smiled. Zan appeared to be the same age as Perth, but he still had his childish excitement about him. He still acted the way a boy his age should act.
"Yeah," said Roran, glancing about the room. "They're called Lyhlim. They're all around us, though we don't normally see them."
Roran looked around again, hoping Sarah would appear.
She didn't.
(2)
Roran slept through most of the day and the following night. Vin rubbed salve onto his hands and feet to help heal the skin. When Roran tried to walk, he immediately fell over, his body too bruised to function. Vin simply tucked Roran back into bed and told him to rest. They brought him food and Zan helped Roran to the bathroom when necessary. Roran did his best to relax and recuperate, but he kept worrying about his friends.
Kell and Karyn were likely fine, but Nul had taken the brunt of the avalanche head on. Roran wondered why they would do that. Nul could fly. They could have just jumped over the snow, or they could have followed Roran off the cliff and caught them both at the bottom. Chewing on his lip, Roran tried to puzzle out why Nul had chosen to let the avalanche hit them.
"Careful, you'll chew your lip off."
Roran bolted upright in bed. "Sarah!"
Sarah sat on the edge of the bed, her hood drawn and her face covered. She took his hand in her own and squeezed it. "Hey."
"I was so worried. You were gone for a while."
"Sorry, I needed time to recover."
"It's alright. I'm just glad you're okay."
Roran ran his thumb over Sarah's hand. He paused, frowning. Sarah's hand had a crack running through it, as though her body were made of glass and she'd somehow fractured.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
Slowly, Sarah pulled back her hood. A large crack ran across her face.
"I tried catching you," she said, "and I hurt myself in the process, conservation of energy and all. Don't worry, I'll be fine, I just need time to recover."
Roran reached up and cupped her cheek, running his thumb along lower lip. It was hard and jagged where the crack ran through it.
"I'm sorry, this happened to you because of us."
"It's fine," Sarah said again. "I just need a little time and then I'll be as good as new."
Gesturing to his injured feet, Roran said, "I guess neither of us are going anywhere."
"Actually...I have to leave. I can't recover here. I need to go back home, so to speak, to recover."
"Is it far from here?"
"No...well yes...well, sort-of-not-really. Look, it's hard to explain in human terms. I'll be gone for a few days, a week at most, and then I'll be back, good as new. There won't even be any scars."
"Are you sure you'll be okay?"
"Yup, once I'm pretty again I'll come right back."
"Even with the cracks, you're still beautiful." Roran leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. "As long as you're healthy I'm happy."
Sarah flushed bright red and looked away, drawing her legs up to her chest and curling into a ball. "I don't get sick. I'm not human, remember."
Roran pulled her against his chest, hugging her tightly. "You're not human and yet you still push yourself to help us, to help me."
Slowly, Sarah turned and wrapped her arms around Roran. In a small voice, she said, "You're special to me, that's all."
"And you mean the world to me."
Sarah squeezed him tighter in response.
When they broke the hug, Sarah said, "I should get back. Your new friends will be checking on you in a moment, and the sooner I heal the sooner we can go find the others."
"Any idea where they are?"
Sarah shook her head. "They're out of my range. Your guess is as good as mine."
"Okay. Get well and we'll go find them soon."
"I will, you stay put for now. When I return we can go find them together."
The door to the room swung open and Zan poked his head inside. "Who are you talking to?"
Roran looked back to Sarah but she was gone. "Just myself, I guess."
Unphased by Roran's response, Zan came in and sat down on a stool near the bed. "Pa says you're a swordsman."
"I'm a mercenary," said Roran.
"We grabbed your sword and shield. Pa has them in the shop. He gave them a cleaning and an oiling so they don't rust."
"That was very kind of him. What sort of work does your father do?"
"Mostly jewelry making and gem polishing. He can't work in the mines anymore because his leg got crushed in a cave-in. Now I do the mining and he polishes up the good stuff that I find."
"You go mining? Aren't you too young for that?"
Zan shrugged. "Someone has to do it, otherwise we'll starve. You said your Momma was gone?"
Roran nodded. "For a while now."
"Mine too. She died a while back. It's just me and Pa now."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
Zan shrugged and the conversation died. In the silence, Zan began fidgeting, scratching behind his ears and rubbing his neck. He half rolled up his sleeves to scratch his forearms.
"Are those focus markings?" asked Roran.
Zan cocked his head. "What are focus markings?"
"Those tattoos on your wrists. Where did you get them?"
"These? All of the miners have them. They're called Miner's Manacles, they help us with working in the mines."
"I see," said Roran.
The marks were jagged and faded. Small burns and cuts had worn away the edges. Nul would have screamed the moment they saw the marks out of frustration alone.
"What do you mine for?" Roran asked.
"Oh all sorts of things. It depends on what veins we can get into. Sometimes it's coal, sometimes it's iron. Occasionally I'll find a small vein of gold or some precious gems. Those I bring back to Pa to turn into jewelry."
"What happens to the materials that you mine out of the mountain, the non-precious ones I mean."
"We just turn them over to the foremen and they pay us by weight."
Vin knocked on the door frame. "Am I interrupting?"
"No Pa, I was just telling him about the mines."
"I see. Speaking of, you should be off to bed, you're back to work tomorrow and you should get in early before the others beat you to it."
"But we have a guest! We never get guests Pa!"
"I don't think our guest will be leaving tomorrow. You can chat with him when you get back from the mines."
Zan sighed. "Okay Pa." Sad and dejected, he got off the stool. "I'll talk to you tomorrow. Goodnight."
"Goodnight Zan," said Roran, and he watched the boy go. Turning to Vin, he asked, "Is it okay for him to be working the mines at his age?"
Vin grimaced. "No, but we don't have a choice. With my bum leg, all I can do is make mediocre jewelry and polish the rarer gems so we can sell them in the Upper Rim."
"Upper Rim?"
"Where all the rich people live. They don't care about us folk down in the Lower Crags, but they're willing to throw us some money when we offer them something shiny. The only problem is getting Zan up to the Upper Rim to sell off our goods."
"Is it a long walk?"
"No, but there are...look it's not your problem. We'll be fine."
"What if I go with him tomorrow?"
Vin paused. "What?"
Roran flexed his hands and wiggled his toes. They still hurt where the flesh was raw, but they moved. "I'm on the mend. I can go with Zan, keep an eye on him. I'll give him a hand and you two can keep whatever I help bring up."
"I don't know. You could barely stand yesterday."
Using his etchings to reinforce his body, Roran climbed out of bed. "All I needed was some sleep. Please, I want to repay you two for looking after me."
Vin hesitated, as though there was something he wanted to say. After a moment he shrugged and said, "If you're sure that's what you want to do. I'll wake you up in the morning and if you still want to go you can escort him down to the mines. Just don't expect it to be easy."
(3)
Vin woke Roran in the early hours of the morning before the sun had come out. His body was still stiff and sore, but Roran forced himself out of bed and into his boots. With a little boost from his etchings, Roran was up and moving with relative ease. Casting a quick look around to make sure he was alone, Roran called, "Sarah?"
No response.
Frowning, Roran pulled on his jacket and his gloves. Despite what he'd told Vin, his hands and feet were still raw. The day's work was not going to be kind to him. He left the room to find Vin and Zan in the living room, sitting next to a large fireplace and eating bowls of porridge.
"Roran!"
"Hey Zan, I thought I would join you for a trip to the mines."
"Really?"
Roran nodded. "It will do me some good to get exercise and stretch my muscles."
Zan bounced up and down in his chair. "This will be fun!"
"Where are my sword and shield?" asked Roran.
"In my shop," said Vin. "Think you'll need them in the mines?"
"I'm not used to being without them."
"I'd recommend you leave them here for the day. They'll just get in the way and give people the wrong impression."
"Fair enough, when do we leave?"
"In a few, sit and eat first." Vin handed Roran a bowl of porridge.
While Roran settled down and started eating, Zan started rambling on about the mines. "We can go into the coal mines today. They're not the best mines but with two of us we'll be able to haul out lots and lots!"
"I've got a spare pick you can borrow," said Vin. "I hope you don't mind getting your clothes dirty."
"It's what they're there for," said Roran.
"This is gonna be fun!"
Zan devoured the rest of his porridge then ran back to his room to finish getting ready for the day. Roran ate at a much more subdued pace, adjusting to the mild burning in his hands and feet.
"You ever swung a pick before?" asked Vin.
"No, but I swung a hoe for a little bit."
"Farmer?"
"Helping my mother in the gardens. We did live in a farming town though."
"I see. So how did you end up as a mercenary?"
"My home was devoured by the King's Empire."
Vin nodded. "That's a story I hear more and more each day. You know how to handle yourself in a fight?"
Roran shrugged. "I've made it this far."
"Keep an eye on my boy for me. Trouble has a way of sniffing him out."
Concerned by the warning, Roran nodded and set down his empty porridge bowl. "It's the least I can do for you two saving my life."
Zan came back into the room, a freshly polished pickaxe over his shoulder. Vin pushed himself back to his feet and retreated out of the room. He came back with a second pick, some work clothes, and a pack bulging at the seams.
"You can use my old jacket and gloves, they'll fare better in the mines than your traveling gear. I packed you a couple of lunches plus the usual supplies. Zan knows how to use everything so just let him take the lead."
"We're gonna bring back lots of notes, just you wait Pa."
"Aye, and bring back a couple lumps while you're at it."
"Yes Pa, come on Roran, let's go."
Zan grabbed a couple of lanterns from a hook by the door and headed out into the snow. Roran pulled on the new clothes and followed after him.
It was still dark outside. A gentle breeze drifted along the ground, dragging wisps of snow with it. The pair were standing in a deep ravine, surrounded on either side by large spires of rock stabbing up at the sky. Zan's home had been carved directly into the side of the mountain. A little ways away came the glow of another home and another one further past that. Stairs winded their way down the side of the mountain, granting access to homes higher up. All along the ravine, people had burrowed directly into the mountain to create their homes.
Flicking a lever, Zan's lantern flared to life, exposing a small bit of fairy rock surrounded by mirrors. "Come on, let's hurry before the others get there and take all the good stuff."
Zan hurried ahead, leading Roran through a winding trail that wove in between several more spires and up out of the ravine. Snow continued to fall in light flurries, burying their footsteps as soon as they made them. The trail ended in a large staircase that climbed directly out of the ravine and up the mountainside.
"This is an impressive bit of stonework," said Roran, admiring the stairs. They too had been carved directly out of the mountain.
"They're old, like, really really old. Pa says they were here before Uhlara was even founded. Come on, just two staircases and then a little further and we'll be in the mines."
As they climbed, Roran felt his muscles begin to tremble. He fed a little energy into his focus markings to compensate. Not a lot, just enough that he no longer worried about collapsing. The climb hurt his feet but Roran could do little more than grit his teeth and bear it. The raw skin would turn into calluses and he would be stronger for it. At least, that's what he kept telling himself.
Zan was undisturbed by the climb. He padded up the stairs with practiced ease, his pickaxe bouncing on his shoulder and his lantern swaying out in front of him. Despite his heavy clothing, Roran could tell that Zan had a large smile on his face.
"Do a lot of people work in the mines?" asked Roran.
"Most people that can swing a pick do. Those who can't, like my Pa and the women, find other ways to make money."
"There aren't any women in the mines?"
"A few, but not many. The work is too hard for them."
"Even with the focus markings?"
Zan cocked his head. "Oh right, the manacles. Not many officials will put a brand like that on a woman. One or two from time to time, but it's not common. Isn't it the same where you come from?"
Roran shook his head. "Nope. One of my closest friends is a small scrawny woman and she's the toughest person I've ever met. Stronger than I'll ever be."
Zan laughed. "You come from a weird place then."
"I suppose I do."
After cresting the first flight of stairs, Roran found that there was another one right in front of it. Zan bounded up the second flight with ease. Roran swallowed his pain and followed after him. When they reached the top, there was another flight waiting for them. Peering upwards, Roran saw that there were even more staircases further beyond.
Zan veered off to the side, heading along another trail that led them through another ravine.
"We're almost there."
As they walked, they began passing piles of equipment. There were large carts with odd shaped wheels and strange mechanisms attached to the front.
"Those are for hauling goods up the stairs," said Zan. "There are a bunch of elevators dug right through the mountain. They roll those big carts right onto the elevator and haul it all the way to Upper Rim. Cool huh?"
"It's very impressive. What about these carts?" asked Roran, pointing to much smaller carts that were on tracks. The tracks extended alongside the trail, veering off to disappear into the mouth of a cave.
"Those are for us. We'll use them to haul our goods back to the surface when we have a full load."
They continued passing more and more caves, each one with a pair of tracks leading in and out and a pile of carts sitting next to it. Above each cave was a sign, written in a script Roran recognized but couldn't read.
"What do the signs say?" Roran asked.
"You can't read?"
"I can read the phonetic alphabet fine, but not the High Uhlaran."
"The what?"
"Nevermind, no I can't read."
"Those signs say what's in each mine. This one's copper, that one is gems, and these ones down here are coal." Zan gestured to a long line of tunnels, all of them with the same sign hung over the entrance. Zan grinned up at Roran. "It's time to get to work."
(4)
Zan grabbed a cart and tossed his pick in. Roran added his own along with the pack. Grabbing the cart, Zan pushed it along a track until they reached one of the mine shafts.
"We got here at the perfect time. Managed to get a good cart and get to be the first into one of the better mines."
"Do the other miners not get up early?"
Zan shook his head. "They're sleeping off the drink. We won't see them until sunrise. Come on, let's go."
Zan pushed the cart into the mineshaft and they descended into the dark. He squeezed a lever on the mine cart, slowing its descent down the gentle slope. "Just let me handle the cart, all you have to do is help me swing the pick and haul the rocks."
Roran nodded, only half paying attention. He was more interested in the mineshaft. The shaft was large and roomy. There was a track on either side of the shaft, one leading down and one heading back out. The one ascending out of the mine had a third rail in the middle, with evenly spaced teeth. Every now and then a tunnel shot off the main shaft, extending deeper into the mountain.
"Hey Perth-" Roran snapped his mouth shut, wincing at his mistake. "Sorry, Zan, how deep are we going?"
"Close to the bottom. We'll only make one trip that deep but we'll get a lot of coal real quick."
As they headed deeper, Roran saw a glow ahead of them. Zan cursed.
"What?" asked Roran.
"Some idiot left the light on." Arriving at the glow, they found a massive lantern with a large chunk of fairy rock inside, the shutters wide open. "They're supposed to turn it off when they leave so the rocks last longer."
"Is fairy rock rare here?"
"It's just expensive. There's lots of it in the Upper Rim but we only get a little bit and it has to last a while. Everytime they replace the rock they take it out of our pay for a couple weeks."
Zan grabbed a lever on the lantern and pulled, sliding the shutters down to a low dim. Shaking his head, he continued on. They headed down past three more lanterns before they reached a dead end. Three small tunnels branched out. Zan picked one, seemingly at random, and they shoved the cart onto the tracks leading into the tunnel.
This time the trek was much shorter. They reached the end of the tunnel and Zan pulled the supplies out of the cart.
"This here is what we're trying to get out of the rock," Zan said, pointing to a dark patch along the wall. "Most of this tunnel is coal so you really just need to hack away at it. Like this."
Zan swung his pick, driving it into the coal deposit. He swung again and again until large chunks of coal fell free from the wall. Zan put down his pick and bent to pick up the coal.
"Be careful when you lift, otherwise you'll hurt your back and end up with numb feet like the old miners"
Despite his small size, Zan hefted the chunks of coal with ease, aided by his Miner's Manacles. Roran wondered what other uses people had found for etchings throughout the kingdom, aside from combat.
Zan retrieved his pick and went back to digging coal out of the rock. Roran followed suit, using his own focus markings to aid in the endeavor. He settled into a comfortable routine with Zan, keeping pace and pulling out just as much coal as the more experienced miner did. The Miner's Manacles clearly helped Zan with his work, but Roran's focus markings had been designed by an expert and he had no trouble keeping up.
Once the cart was full, Zan tossed his pick on top of the haul and Roran reslung the pack. Zan started pushing the cart, straining to get it moving. Even with the Manacles, Zan struggled against the weight of the coal. Roran gently nudged him out of the way and began pushing the cart along.
Making it back out to the main shaft, they slid the cart onto the ascending track, a gear on the bottom of the cart aligned perfectly with the third rail.
"We can use the gear to help climb the steeper parts. I don't normally haul this much out by myself so it might be a bit of a struggle."
"It's fine," said Roran. He flooded his focus markings with energy and began heaving the cart up.
"Wow, you sure are strong!"
Roran grunted. Even aided by his etchings, the cart was heavy and he had to concentrate. His feet found purchase on the crossboards that ran under the tracks, each one a convenient step as they ascended out of the mines.
"Remember that friend I was telling you about?" Roran asked.
"Yeah?"
"She could do this without breaking a sweat."
"Really?"
Roran nodded. "She's the strongest person I know. Something like this would be nothing to her."
"You're friends sound scary."
"They are, a little, but they're good people. They're my family."
The climb became easier in parts as the mineshaft flattened out, then hard again when they had to climb another steep slope. Roran kept trudging forward, feeling more and more comfortable with his focus markings every step of the way. They were beginning to feel like another part of his body, as easy to use as it was to take a breath.
Their progress was further impeded by other miners coming and going. Nobody else was climbing out of the mines yet, but Zan stopped to wave and say hello to several of the miners on their way down. The older miners, with bushy beards and gray hair, waved hello and gave Zan a fond smile, telling him to wish his father well. The middle aged ones nodded and kept moving, too focused or hungover to give the boy much thought. The younger ones avoided him, not making eye contact or saying a word.
When they arrived at the first lantern, only a short ways away from the surface, a trio of young men stepped onto the rail, blocking their path. The largest of the three stepped forward, putting a hand on the cart and leaning against it.
"Hey Zan, you're up early."
Zan stretched a smile across his face, but it didn't touch his eyes. "Hey Nic, just trying to beat the morning rush."
"I see, and it looks like you made a friend. Who's he?" Nic eyed Roran looking unimpressed. The young man was wide and lacked the lean look of Zan and the other miners. He was clearly eating better than most of the people down here. Roran was immediately reminded of Toth.
"I'm nobody," said Roran, his voice cold. "Just a friend of Zan's."
"Well a friend of Zan is a friend of mine, right Zan?"
Zan didn't answer.
"And these are my two other friends. We didn't get an early start so we were hoping you could share some of your haul with us. We don't have the luxury of getting here early like Zan. Too many obligations, you know?"
"Of course," said Zan, his smile tight against his face like a mask.
"I'm glad you're so understanding." Nic tapped a nearby cart that was empty. "Just a third should do it."
Zan's smile snapped. "A third! That's more than last time!"
Nic shrugged. "There are two of you. Shouldn't be that big a deal."
Crestfallen, Zan lowered his head. "Okay, we'll-"
"No," said Roran.
"Excuse me?" said Nic..
Roran engaged the brake on the cart and stood up. He came to stand opposite Nic. "I said no. Go mine your own coal."
Nic let out an awkward laugh. He glanced back at his two goons who mimicked the gesture. "Listen, I get that it's your first time in the mines, so let me explain something. Zan here has agreed to help us out, in return we keep him safe from other miners. Otherwise something bad might happen to him. Now, Zan is agreeable, so I don't have a problem with him. You, however, I have a problem with."
"I'm keeping an eye on Zan," said Roran, "As a favor to his father. Your protection isn't needed. Now get out of the way."
"You should be a little more respectful when you speak to me," said Nic, "I once killed a man."
The two goons behind Nic nodded their heads, backing up their leader with ugly scowls.
"Out of the way," said Roran, his voice low and even. "This is the last time I'm going to ask."
Nic looked back at his two buddies. He shook his head, laughing. Then he pivoted, swinging his fist at Roran's face.
After sparring with the likes of Kell and Krys, Nic's punch looked painfully slow. Roran leaned slightly out of range, watching as the fist flew past his face, then followed up with his own. He slammed his fist into Nic's stomach, sending him tumbling to the ground.
The two goons stared at their leader in surprise. Roran tilted his head to either side, popping his neck. While Nic coughed and gagged on the ground, one of the goons swung at Roran. Roran caught his wrist and twisted, bending the elbow back at a painful angle. He kicked the goon's leg out and dropped him to the ground. The third goon started backing away.
Nic slowly climbed back to his feet and grabbed a length of wood nearby. "You little shit. I'll show you not to mess with a miner."
He swung at Roran. Roran caught the wood, grunting as it impacted his palm. Nic had been strengthening the blow with his Miner's Manacles and the wood crack on impact. Roran wrenched the wood out of Nic's hand and tossed it aside. Grabbing Nic's coat, Roran hoisted him off the ground. Nic flailed around, kicking his feet like a small child.
Rearing back, Roran smashed his forehead down on Nic's nose. There was a satisfying crunch and Roran dropped him to the ground before blood could cover his clothes. Nic huddled up, clutching his broken nose just as blood started pouring down his face.
Standing over him, Roran said, "I detest bullies. The next time you come near us, I won't be gentle."
Turning, Roran went back to the cart and undid the brake. He started pushing the fully loaded cart back up the hill as if nothing had happened. Nic and the others scrambled to get out of his way.
"Come on Zan," Roran called, "I'm getting hungry."