India In Another World

Chapter 19: When the rocks breath purple

June 20th, 1636, Rahdell, 14:05 hours

Tumbas looked around. The tunnel was dark. The only source of illumination were the glowing purple crystals in the tunnel walls. Large chunks of shiny, luminescent purple stones embedded in the dark, charcoal-coloured rocks. In the darkness, the contrast felt otherworldly.

There were other workers here. Dark elves, mostly male, from various walks of life. Youngsters and the old, walking in a line. Wearing the same white and purple garb. Any semblance of apparent civility they had was long gone, buried deep under the layer of dirt and grime smeared on them. Worn and dirty tools sat cupped in dirty, calloused hands.

It hadn't been long since Tumbas arrived in Rahdell. A week had passed since the country boy had got off the carriage at the city's gates. He had heard from others how the city was like. Of large castles of beautiful white stone and people living in large buildings and walkways perched up in the sky. For someone like him who had never seen a house with more than three rooms, it was dazzling.

Slowly, the dark elves walked out of the narrow shaft. The walls here were darker. Most of the magic stones had been mined here, and thus the walls were mostly dark and barren, rough to touch. There was a fair amount of chatter. Sounds of Dark elves laughing and speaking echoed off the walls as the tired miners stepped out of the mine shaft.

Eyes blinked and adjusted as the crowd stepped out. It was afternoon. Lunch time. It was necessary. The miners had been hard at work since five in the morning. A tent was set up in an open area just beside the mine pit. The smell of hot stew wafted all the way towards the mine shafts. To the elves, it was mouth-watering.

Within ten minutes, all the elves were settled in a rough queue, awaiting their turn for lunch. A handful of guards armed with spears and short swords stood by, maintaining order. Long rows of benches were laid out in the tent under the shade. By the time it was Tumbas's turn, they were already completely filled.

Stew and bread. That was what they always got for lunch. It was nice. Nowhere as good as home cooked food. But hunger doesn't discriminate. After picking a suitable spot near some rocks, he sat down and began munching on his humble meal.

"Why," a voice called out, "here you are!" Tumbas looked up. A skinny dark elf approached. His silvery-blonde hair dirty and frayed. His face wore a wide grin. He still carried his pick-axe in one hand.

The elf came down and sat down beside Tumbas. "So you prefer solitude over the company of an elf? Daydreaming about her, I presume?" He nudged him. "Or perhaps there is another fair maiden who now rules these longing eyes?"

"Do you have anything else better to do? Other than pestering the first elf you see?" Tumbas gave him a look. Casual banter like this was common between them. He was the first friend he had made when he arrived in the city. For that Tumbas was grateful. He didn't know where he would have ended up had it not been for his assistance. He called himself Testicolo. Apparently he was also another boy who had left his home village for the city.

Then there was her. A young woman. Of the many faces he saw on the first day of his arrival, her face was one of the handful ones he still remembered. A quiet, young female dark elf. Loose silver hair, draping down her sides. Heart-shaped face. She was a helper at a local inn. Unassuming, plain, common. There was no famine of beauties in the city. Yet out of all of them, she was the one he found charming.

Tumbas didn't know her name. The anxiety was overwhelming. He was just a poor country boy who had arrived in the city. Just like the many that did everyday. How could he ever approach someone like her, he couldn't fathom.