Chapter XIV - The Blue Metal

Hurling the pickaxe over and over again, Nakol felt his arms on the verge of collapsing. True, he just finished a break, but those soldiers barely gave them any chance to breathe anyway. Working them like dogs, constantly. The pouch may be rather full — those lazugs will surely be useful — but Nakol began to feel overwhelmed by the entire situation. He sighed deeply as he thought about the rest he used to receive. The bed back in his hut, the flowery smell of his sheets, Amixia’s long hair suffocating him every morning. Those were things he took for granted and now were no more. And he began to wonder if they’ll ever come again.

When he chose to accept the contract, he never imagined how long everything was going to take. How much work it would ask of him. Of course he couldn’t have imagined, because Paladon chose to let that detail out. He glanced behind his shoulder, the soldier still sitting there, watching. Preying on him. Wretched Paladon. Part of him wished to break his helmet, to step on his head and stomp him until he was out of his disgusting breath. Part of him still remembered how the punch felt. He touched his eye, feeling the bump he received. It was still there, reminding him that those bastards were not to be messed with. That armor of theirs… whatever it was made out of, was something Nakol never seen before. Being hit by a pickaxe… a pickaxe and having no scratch? Not even one? What kind of material does that? Could he get his hands on something like that?

He shook his head and returned to mine. Those bastards were definitely not going to share what they have. Their only focus is on themselves.

Footsteps sounded nearby, and as Nakol looked towards the rounded opening, a familiar figure emerged, lighted by the torch’s fire.

“I see you decided to stop wasting our time. I’m impressed, Nakol.”

“Mikon, I’m not in the mood for your quips,” he said, frowning and resuming his work.

“Oh? Nakol is not in the mood for banter? What happened, my dear man? Has a rock hit you on the head?” Mikon said, his voice changed to mock him.

He snorted and then laughed. “I wish. At least that way I’d be free of those bastards,” he jerked his head in the soldier’s direction, “I doubt they’ll miss me anyway. I’m only good for them with a pickaxe, right shining beauty?”

Mikon paced towards him. “Nakol, you forget he punched you? Left you with a mark to remember him by?”

“Yes, I think sometimes I do forget that,” he spun towards the soldier, “forgive me for my words, your grace.”

Nakol grimaced as he mined, digging his pickaxe deep within the rocks, tiny bits hitting him as they fell. Dust blurred his vision and he coughed. Coughing from dust was something he had control of after so many years, yet now his body couldn’t stand it anymore. Probably due to how much time he spent lately in the darkness. With his pickaxe and a wall of stone in front of him, ready to be carved. Light was only something given to them briefly, either as they entered a carriage, or as they left it to make a new mine. He smiled as he thought about the way even fresh air was beginning to sound so nice to him.

Mikon placed a hand on his shoulder. “Hang in there, brother. It’s just dust. You love dust.”

Nakol kept on coughing, hitting himself in his chest to force air in. “I don’t think… dust loves me anymore.”

“Give yourself two slaps over your face and you’re going to be fine. Or would you like some more rest?” Mikon said, laughing.

He stopped coughing, tears flowing down his cheeks from the pressure felt. “Can I?”

“No, you cannot. Move your arse and mine.”

“By Mother’s name…” he said, wiping the tears away and returning to his work. “Why are you here? Isn’t there more work to be done in another cavern?”

Mikon paced behind him, carrying his pickaxe over his shoulder. “My cavern is done, there’s no more ores left to find. I thought you could use some help.”

Nakol’s head swiveled to the right immediately. “That sounds better than you can imagine. Want to take over from me?”

Mikon shook his head slowly. “No, Nakol, we’re going to do it together. You’ll not escape work. We have a contract to fulfill and I would appreciate it if you understood that.”

He nodded and sighed deeply. The contract had to be fulfilled, even if Nakol had begun hating himself for signing it. But he was part of a band after all, and the band was made out of his comrades. People with whom he’d shared many adventures, laughs, stories and grew alongside. In a way, they were like an extended family to him, even if Nakol sometimes wished to smack said family. They got into this together; they had to get out of it together, even if that meant Nakol would have to work harder than he would’ve liked.

“I understand, Mikon. You’re right,” Nakol said, staring at the ground, his eyes feeling a bit heavy. “Let’s mine then.”

Mikon held his pickaxe and bit on his lower lip as he hurled it inside the rocks. Soon enough, they were both groaning under the stress their arms were feeling.

“Have you eaten something?” Mikon asked

“No. My meal was not brought yet by my kind soldier.”

“You should have told him if you were hungry.”

“What’s the point, Mikon? He wants me to work, not to live. Can you honestly say you’ve enjoyed the meals this past week?”

“Not really.”

“Besides, it’s barely satiating that wretched meal they bring us. At this rate, I think they’ll begin giving us rocks to eat, instead of actual food.”

“Let’s not think about that. Even if they don’t like us, they need us. Starving miners don’t make for good miners.”

“Well…” Nakol said, his voice struggling from the effort, “I’m beginning to starve. So something tells me that soon enough, my pickaxe may be used again on their helmets.”

Mikon snorted. “Do you want another bruise? The one on that eye isn’t enough?”

“I want to…” he trailed off, sighing, “I want to go home.”

Mikon halted, glancing at Nakol with a frown. “Brother, you cannot go home. Need I remind you of your contract?”

“I know, Mikon, stop reminding me of that!” Nakol snapped, his narrowed eyes looking back at him. “Have they enrolled you or something? You keep reminding me of that contract like I’m a fool that doesn’t know I have responsibilities.”

Mikon leaned towards him. “I remind you because you tend to treat all of this like it’s a child’s game sometimes. Look at that,” he pointed towards the iron bucket close to his feet, “it’s barely half. In the time it took you to do that, me and Iakin finished an entire cavern!”

Nakol dropped the pickaxe with an echoing clang and tensed, flaring his nostrils, the dust filling them. Mikon was either a fool or tried too hard to impress those bastards. He knew the man focused way too much on work and gave little importance to other aspects, but lately he grew even harsher in that regard, acting like part of the soldiers. What if his bucket was half? He’d filled many until now, even if it took him longer. At the end of the day, Nakol was doing his work the way he saw fit, not the way others wanted him to.

“Leave me with your opinions about me, Mikon,” he said, waving dismissively. “My work is not of any interest to you. See to your own.”

“As part of the band, your work is my concern also. So you better start filling that bucket if you want to get some of that rest you are constantly whining about.”

Nakol turned to face the rocks before him, ignoring Mikon’s comment. The man was too hard to deal with anyway. There was no point in explaining things he couldn’t understand. Not everyone did things like him; not everyone cared so much about work that they began to act so out of touch with his own brethren. Certainly not Nakol. Work was not everything. In truth, Nakol accepted the contract to earn more lazugs so he can be the provider Amixia needed him to. But… was that a good decision? Were lazugs so important that he left Faye, Amixia, and a peaceful life behind for them? He always believed he was doing it for her. To give her a better life, a happier one. But now… how was he doing that when they were so apart from one another? When her touch felt like such a distant memory? When his life became one of constant labour into the darkness? When his own brothers seemed to go against one another, out of the restlessness they felt?

He sighed, dropping his head.“I miss her.”

Mikon’s mining grew less vigorous. “I know you do.”

“I doubt you do. You don’t know what it feels like to wake up beside the woman of your dreams, to feel her hair, to touch her skin. To hug her and assure her that all is well. To see her smile and do nothing but be filled by… love.”

“I can imagine.”

“Perhaps. But you won’t fully know it until you’re in that position. And the more time passes when we’re apart, the harder things become.”

Mikon hauled his pickaxe over his shoulder. “You had to know what you were getting into.”

“I didn’t. Hael was surprised to learn I didn’t even know there was no date when the contract was signed. I thought the job would be easier than this.”

Mikon laughed. “Oh, Nakol. You are an even bigger fool than I have thought. Faye’s mines were difficult enough, brother. I knew from the start this was going to be even more so.”

“Congratulations, brother. You are so good at this,” Nakol said, clapping mockingly.

Mikon raised a hand. “No need for clapping. Use those hands for mining.”

He gave him a flat stare then shook his head. “You don’t quit, do you now?”

“No. Not until that bucket is full.”

Nakol grasped his pickaxe and lifted it, putting it into position to be hurled again. “Whatever you say.”

Again, they began mining in unison, the sound of rocks being torn to shreds piercing through the cavern with an echo. Ore after ore came into sight, from silver to iron to sometimes even copper. The bucket clanged as they were tossed in it and little by little, it began to fill. Nakol shot Mikon a scowl and he rolled his eyes. If Mikon wasn’t happy now with his efforts, then maybe he ought to use the pickaxe on him, not on the soldier.

“So… what is Amixia doing back in Faye? I remember you said something about blacksmithing?”

“She joined Wymmel’s shop, yes. It’s been a dream of hers for a long time.”

“Odd dream, brother. Do you know of any women working in blacksmiths?”

Nakol shrugged. “I don’t understand why there couldn’t be one doing that. Amixia is capable of doing anything she wants.”

Mikon shook his head. “I’m not saying she’s not capable, I’m saying blacksmithing is a tough job. We both know what she looks like.”

Nakol glanced at him with a frown. “I know what she looks like. That is not going to stop her from achieving her goal. I trust her. She may look weak, but she’s far stronger than fayes believe.”

Mikon shrugged and smiled. “If you say so, brother. Still, I personally believe she struggles with all the effort that’s required of her for the work. I doubt that man Wymmel is making things easier just because she’s a woman.”

“Wymmel is a good man, Mikon. He takes good care of her and from what she told me, he’s always guided her through everything. She has all the help she needs to succeed. And she has my support, no matter what.”

“Good of you. But still, why choose that? Why not choose… something else?”

Nakol scowled as he thought about Amixia’s reasons. Her poor heart’s been through a lot. Far more than Nakol knew was possible for a person to endure. Constant beatings and abuse in a house run by a madman which cared only for inflicting pain – lasting, visible pain – and drowning in alcohol every day. Only a monster would be capable of doing what he did, not a man. She told him everything; the restless nights when she dreaded closing her eyes because she never knew what would happen, the screams she heard from her mother as she called for help and none came, the lashes she endured on her entire body, alongside the cuts made on her arms which in turn left scars for life, not to mention the words spoken to her which made her doubt everything. Herself, those around her, her purpose in life. And after all of that, poor Amixia was still standing, fighting, struggling to find her purpose. Going through all of that and still being here was something only a strong person could do. Nakol for one, knew he wouldn’t have managed what she did. Yet she couldn’t see that. All she could see was her lack of physical strength and her obsession with getting it. Maybe Nakol could open her eyes. Show her that her power stood elsewhere. That if she would let her guard down, of course. Trying to persuade her to do anything felt harder than mining sometimes.

“That is… sensitive, Mikon. She had a lot growing up and she feels like this would give her peace.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Mikon noticed the signal in Nakol’s words and nodded firmly. “I see. Well, I’m sorry for what she’s been through. Families are tough, I know myself how things can be.”

Nakol lifted his eyebrows. “How so?”

“Well… my father was part of the Hawks. That should tell you everything you need to know.”

The Hawks. The merchants of Faye. Wealthy, powerful men who had only one goal in life – profits. At all costs. Nakol knew them, just as everyone from Faye did, because most people tended to avoid plagues. And the Hawks were the worst of plagues known in all of Galaria. If he were to guess, he would probably say that Paladon’s soldiers have a bigger heart than them. Humans were only good for work in their eyes, and nothing else.

“I unfortunately know what those pieces of dung can do. It’s a shame really, that the Matriarchy chose not to cast them out for what they’re doing to those poor souls. Or imprison them at least.”

Mikon snorted. “And collapse the entire trading network of Faye? You think these women are fools?”

“No, but I believe the Hawks have too much mercy given to them, when their main priority is overworking people to death.”

“The Matriarchy won’t do anything about them, Nakol. They’re practically Faye’s economy, standing and breathing. Besides, what could the Matriarchy do? Lecture them for being too bad?” he said, grinning at the idea.

Nakol scratched his head and puffed his cheeks, sighing. “Right, I forgot they believe in love and compassion. Let’s hope a war won’t reach us, or our enemies may be frightened by our hugs.”

“Let’s hope Mother helps us with that,” Mikon said sternly. “Hawks are here to stay. They’re a necessary evil if Faye is to continue prospering. Hopefully… things will remain this way.”

Nakol stopped mining and glanced at him with widened eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Well…” Mikon trailed off, adjusting his voice, “my great father spoke about some things. Those Hawks have a massive hatred for the Matriarchy, or as he used to say ‘they’re a bunch of good for nothing, preaching about that Mother of theirs all day’.”

“If I remember correctly, they are where they are because of the Matriarchy. These women appointed them to take Faye’s economy out of the ground and make it what it is today, right?”

“That is true, however,” he said, shooting Nakol a nervous glare. “they want more than that. At least that’s what my father gave the idea of.”

“Brother, what are you talking about?” Nakol said, turning his entire body to face him. “They’re not seriously thinking about that. It’s the biggest foolishness I heard in a long while, and I am friends with you.”

Mikon frowned then shook his head. “My father was not really a man of doing, Nakol, he mostly said things, drank until he collapsed and whored all day long. Good on my mother for leaving us. I struggle to give that bastard any credibility to his words,” he said, disgust noticeable in his voice. “Yet, who knows what those bastards are planning, but I doubt they’ll do anything that insane.”

Nakol stared at him confused. “Should we say something about this? Maybe the Matriarchy would d-”

“Brother, I told you already – my old man was a fool, bigger than you know possible. Yes, true, he spoke with a lot of hatred about these women, but look at Faye. Do you really think the Matriarchy could fall because a bunch of old, wealthy men have issues?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know, brother. I hope not. Amixia’s there – I don’t want anything to happen while she’s there. However, I don’t know what to say now that you told me this. They sound danger-”

“Even if we go to the Matriarchy and tell them what my father used to say, do you think they’ll do anything against them? They won’t; they need the Hawks, just like you and me need them, because the lives we’re living are thanks to them. They may sound dangerous, but if they’re all like my fool of a father, we’re alright.”

Nakol couldn’t deny Mikon’s words; the Hawks were responsible for the lives they lived. While he and Amixia were not wealthy by any means, they afforded to eat, to sleep on an actual bed, to dress in nicer garments and to work. Trading brought Faye to a place of prosperity rarely seen in other settlements in Galaria, apart from the kingdoms, true, but those were a different story. Even if he hated them, they were needed. Replacing them could prove a challenge if not impossible.

He sighed, glancing upwards. “You’re right. We need those bastards to stick around. Maybe your father had too much of an imagination for his own good. I hope at least.”

Mikon muttered an affirmative. “Me too, brother.”

They continued their duty, but Nakol’s stomach finally gave in and decided to demand food. It growled so loud, it rivalled the smashing of rocks. He didn’t want to eat, not the disgusting meal Paladon made for them to keep them ‘filled’. Slapping two loaves of rotting bread, tomatoes and some goat cheese was not a meal. If they deemed it so, perhaps they ought to eat it themselves. But of course they won’t. Most likely these wretched sons of nothing ate well in their tents. After all, they were the masters and they the slaves.

Nakol spun slowly, scowling to the soldier. “Your majesty, I’m hungry. May I eat some of that royal meal you’re preparing for us?”

The soldier kept silent and watched him, arms folded. This was not the right time to be a statue. Perhaps he was still upset from when Nakol tried to hit him and decided to let him starve. Who would have guessed these soldiers had emotions?

Nakol waved, trying to attract his attention. “Please?”

Eventually, he allowed his arms to fall beside him and turned, exiting the cavern in which they sat, marching too proud of himself.

Mikon laughed. “He’s going to spit in your meal.”

“He didn’t do it until now?”

“He’s going to double down now.”

Nakol shook his hand. “Whatever. I think that would be less disgusting than what I’ll actually receive.”

“You’re disgusting, brother.”

“Thanks,” Nakol replied, faking a smile.

He looked back at the hole he dug in the wall and decided to continue mining in an effort to distract him from his increasing hunger, but also to avoid listening to Mikon’s complaints again. He had enough of that already.

Suddenly, a blue light shone between cracks, blinding him. He squinted, trying to avoid it, and eventually it stopped. He wiped away some dust, trying to get a better look at it. It looked like a stone, yet incredibly tiny, almost the size of his nail. Leaning his head in, he noticed its coloring – pale blue, with something moving inside. Something similar to mist or smoke, or something like that. He frowned, trying to think if he ever saw something like this before, but he couldn’t remember. The stone looked so beautiful and so… strange at the same time. The mist inside moved sporadically, almost as if trying to escape.

He hurled his pickaxe one more time to let it out and he hit the wall, the stone falling on the ground with a clink. He grabbed it, spinning it in his hands, admiring its beauty and strangeness. Its surface was smooth, like the skin of an infant. There were no edges, at least none that were sharp, considering where it came from. Tapping it, the stone shone, blinding him in a burst of light. He groaned and dropped it, cursing under his breath.

“Brother, what are you doing?” Mikon asked, confusion in his voice.

Nakol forced his eyes open, and grabbed it violently. There was no need to share his discovery.

He adjusted his voice. “Nothing, brother. I thought I found something interesting but I didn’t.”

Nakol pocketed the stone and turned, smiling at Mikon. “Where is that wretched soldier anyway, I feel like my belly is going to kill me soon.”

Mikon frowned but shrugged soon after, facing the wall to mine. “You miss him already? He’ll be here any moment, be sure o-”

Another burst of light shone, this time blinding Mikon and he cursed as he stumbled backwards. Nakol raised an arm to block some light, without much success. Disappearing, they were allowed to see what happened. A massive chunk of rocks fell under Mikon’s hurls and it revealed a huge ore of… the same stone as Nakol found earlier. The same shape, the same color, the same weird mist inside, moving irregularly. It had to be the size of a boulder, if not bigger, but it kept the same characteristics as his tiny stone did – smooth to the touch, but this time it was shaped like an egg.

“What is… this?” Mikon asked, his eyebrows raised.

Mikon leaned in, examining it, feeling its surface. Nakol forced himself to appear confused, following his actions, occasionally eyeing him to not give himself away.

“Brother… this is something… I’ve never seen in my entire mining years!” he said, his voice raised in wonder.

Hurried footsteps sounded outside and Nakol turned, seeing the soldier enter with his meal.

The soldier stepped inside, alerted. “Step away from the metal, now,” he said in a muffled, high-pitched voice.

Mikon spun to glance at him. “Wha-”

The bastard pushed them both out of the way and positioned himself before them and the metal. He unsheathed his blade, holding it towards them.

“Rhie, Bwelle!” shouted the soldier.

Soon after he called, more footsteps sounded nearby and two soldiers entered in a hurry, joining by his side.

“Lord,” one of them replied.

“Send word back to the court. Tell them we found it.”

Nakol perked up. “Found w-”

His words were stopped by the blade touching his chest, and the soldiers gazed at him with their faceless helmets.

“At once, my lord.”

Both soldiers hurried out the cavern and back in the tunnel. Nakol was stunned. Never before had they talked, only to threaten him when he attacked. Never before have they rushed anywhere, keeping themselves so annoyingly steady. Now they were scrambling like bees on a sunflower, as if their lives depended on what they found. He tilted his head to the side. What is that… metal? And why does it make them act in such a way?

Mikon stepped forward. “Soldier w-”

“Your contract is fulfilled, miners. You will return to Faye.”

Nakol jerked his head in disbelief. “What? What are you talking about?”

“We have no more need for your services.”

They exchanged shocked glances, trying to understand what had gotten into the soldier all of a sudden. Fulfilling the contract? Nakol wanted that, sure, but not this fast. There was still so much more to be done, so many more mines to dig, so much more ore to gather. Sure, he had enough lazugs, but he could still make some more. Yet the idea of returning to Faye didn’t sound bad either. The question however, was why? Why this sudden change of action? Why do it after they found that strange ore? Then he realized.

“This… metal was why you needed us from the beginning,” Nakol said nervously, pointing behind the soldier.

The soldier nodded. “And now you’ve found it. Congratulations.”

“Why didn’t you say so from the beginning? Why make us chase mine after mine, working tirelessly, barely having the time to rest? Why do this?”

“That is none of your concern, miner. You accepted to carry out a task for His Royal Highness. It is not our fault you chose to help us.”

Mikon paced forward. “You used us,” he said, his face flushing.

“Oh? And how are those lazugs in your pockets feeling now? Heavy, right? Don’t fool yourselves. You took this job willingly,” he pointed his blade towards their pockets. “For that specific reason.”

More footsteps sounded outside their cavern, and the soldiers rushed inside. “Message sent, my lord.”

“Good. Now, gather the others so we can escort our miners back to Faye,” he said, sheathing his blade and pacing outside the cavern.

Mikon raised his arms in frustration. “You cannot do this! We signed a contract, you can’t just act like we didn’t! There’s still so much more to do, and what even is that thing? Tell us that at least if you don’t want to share!” he yelled, pointing at the ore.

The soldier ignored him and disappeared into the tunnel. The other two approached them, pointing outside the cavern. “Move it, miners.”

As Nakol and Mikon advanced down the narrow, round tunnel, from the sides emerged other of their brethren, viciously pushed out of their caverns. Some cursed, others accepted the situation without fighting back. Nakol glanced behind, only to be met by another push of the shoulder, which made him stumble further. The exit was now within reach and as they got out, they were met by a sloping hill, the moon above them casting down ferocious white lights. Blinding even. It was strangely close to them, making him frown as he thought if he could touch it. Their caravan awaited at the end of the hill, on a curving pathway, with rows of tall trees on the opposite side. The bastards gave them no time to even enjoy the fresh air, pushing them down the hill and up in the veiled carriage.

A soldier shouted for the coachman to arrive, a man Nakol knew only by name and that he apparently lived close to Faye — Vikao. Besides that, all throughout their journey, they never interacted. And part of him was slowly coming to the realization as to why that was the case. He not only worked for Paladon; from how familiar the soldier sounded when he called him, they were more like long lost brothers. Did he know all along?

“Y-yes, my lord?” asked the coachman, his voice lacking any sort of manliness.

“Deliver the miners back home, safely if you can. If not, then that won’t be a problem.”

Nakol could not see them, but from the way they spoke, he could imagine how the coachman was bowing to him, if not already kissing his shining feet.

“At o-once, my lord!”

The carriage shook lightly as he hopped in and after a few moments, it jolted in motion, the horses neighing as they galloped. This was embarrassing. They were being tossed away like they never meant anything at all – which in truth – Nakol knew all along was the case. It still stung, and more so because he didn’t even get the name of that wretched metal. He jumped to his feet, reaching for the veils and parting them, he caught a glimpse of three soldiers speaking in a hushed manner. So careful with their vile words.

He pointed his ear in their direction, struggling to block away the rolling of wheels. He struggled, squinting, until eventually he barely made out a phrase. “They were right, the Eledon was here.”

Eledon. So that’s what the name was. He retreated inside, nodding slowly to himself at the newfound detail.But where did it come from? He’d been a miner for as long as he knew how to count, and he never heard about such a name. Iron, aluminum, silver, name them all and Nakol could tell you what they were useful for, where you can find them and what you can do with them if you want. But ‘Eledon’? Whatever this metal was, it was new to him. And from the look on Mikon’s face, it was new to all of them. Where did it come from?

He sat back on the bench alongside his brethren, some of them arguing with one another because of the sudden fulfillment of the contract. Just like Nakol, they were not too pleased about it. Yet still, he was going back. Back home. Back to Amixia. He stood slightly to the side, trying to avoid his brethren’s eyes and reached for the stone in his pocket. He palmed it, and tried to appear like he was trying to rest. What’s his, it’s his; no need to share. Through cracks in his fingers, he saw it, its pale blueness radiating beautifully. A strange color for a metal, yet an interesting one. And the way it shone when touched, it reminded him of the same thing that happened when the soldier tapped his helmet. Maybe… it was the same material after all. This tiny thing being that strong? How could that be? The mist inside still moved like a caged animal eating through iron bars. He had to admit it; the metal seemed… alive somehow. Which made it further interesting.

As he gazed at it, he began to feel this strange sensation. Like the metal called to him, nudging him into using it. Could he ask Wymmel to make an armor out of it? No, it’s too small; it would be wasted for nothing. Maybe a pickaxe? For what? To make the pickaxe invincible? That seemed like the most foolish idea ever. No, the stone had to be used… differently. He spun it in his palm slowly, and the size of it gave him an idea. A necklace. Yes, it could make a good necklace. But he doesn’t wear them, those things are ridiculous, and he didn’t want to give his brothers a chance to mock him. Perhaps… Amixia? After all, the stone was as beautiful as her. This could only enhance her beauty, make her stand out even more, possibly even helping her realize how attractive she looked. That woman forgets that aspect so often that Nakol always tries coming up with new words to describe her and he still fails most of the time. Yes, that is the best use for this stone. And if Nakol were to be honest, he had to make up to her. He had to make up for all this time they spent apart. And a gift was the best way to do so. He grinned at the stone as he imagined it placed around her slim neck. Amixia and the necklace will make a great team. And who knows — maybe she’ll find a great use for it in the future.