Grand Saint Alloy

Tristan looked up from the fetal position at the sound of footsteps approaching. It was a man who was only a little taller than he was. He had dark skin and scars, running up and down his arms. On his head, he had a round straw hat, he looked more like a retired soldier than like a miner.

So this was the mine foreman. Tristan had never actually seen him before as the man did not leave the entrance of the mine too often. It was ordinarily a location that only criminals were sent to unless they were overseers. Tristan was getting the feeling that he was not being recruited as an overseer.

The man knelt down beside him, “Boy, Elder Forest says you got yourself a metal affinity. Is that true? “

Tristan tried to respond, however, he only had one working lung and it took him a while to regain his breath. When he finally did, he tried to look the man in the eyes, “Unfortunately, yes I do. “

The man smiled. He was missing a good portion of his teeth, “ that’s good, you might have an easier time finding some of the rare materials. “

Tristan winced. He had a tier zero kern, the essence inside would not boost his strength and not give him much more affinity for an element than to activate tier zero artifacts. He had never heard of metal artifacts, he assumed they were destroyed on sight.

Artifacts were condensed from a person willingly condensing the essence from their kern into a usable form. This came at a loss to the total capacity of their kerns ability to hold essence. Many parents told stories about the hero who gave away all his power in an artifact while he was on his deathbed. Supposedly, that was the history of the abyssal chalice. It was a story that Tristan now believed.

Everybody tried to condense their essence before they died. If they didn’t or died suddenly for some reason with essence, still inside their kern it would manifest into a pseudo-sentient being. As opposed to an object it would become an elemental which would carry out whatever strong feelings a person has been harboring. Because of this artifacts were relatively common and most families had one or two.

Unfortunately, for Tristan, as the only person who could use metal affinity, there were no artifacts. He wasn’t sure what he was capable of. Most tier zero’s weren’t useless without artifacts, but their abilities were limited. Fire kerns were resistant to fevers, Air kerns could hold their breath for longer, and every kern had its benefits even if it was limited.

“I, I don’t know how to do anything like that,” Tristan rasped.

The man’s smile fell a little, “well, let’s see what we can do about that then.”

Elder Forest had a serious expression, “Conni, taking him is also taking responsibility for both his actions,” he paused as if not wanting to finish, “and his well-being.”

It was clear that the mine would not be good for Tristan’s health. However, it was literally the only place that viewed his progress in a positive light. If people would not support him because they cared for him, then they would support him because he made their lives easier.

Tristan struggled to get to his feet. The injury to his lung was horrible, he never realized how much he used certain muscles until they were hurt. As his right lung was damaged, Tristan struggled to his feet using his left hand. Neither Conni nor Elder Forest seemed to have any interest in helping him.

Conni spoke to Elder Forest, “Alright, I’ll take him.”

Once he was upright again, Tristan took as deep of a breath as he could. With his weight on his crutches now, he thanked his parents for their foresight. He followed Conni back to the gaggle of people that were also to be sent to the mine today. It was by far the shortest line, and it was the only one with people older than thirteen. There were very few of a similar age to Tristan. Two tier-one dark kerns, which would be useful for their night vision, and a tier-zero wind kern. Everyone else was older by at least half a decade.

“Alright, “Conni said, “Who’s ready to get to work.”

Nobody answered. The mine was a necessity for the well-being of the Forest Caldera, however, it was still viewed as a punishment. Unless you had an affinity for darkness, the tunnel system would feel oppressive and endless. There were stories of monsters living in the tunnels as well, not that Tristan believed that.

Each Caldera had a mine, though Forest Caldera’s was the most expansive and the only one that mined construction-grade metal. Tristan supposed that it was fortunate that the area his ancestors had chosen was so rich in metal. It was composed mainly of steel and smaller amounts of less useful materials such as copper or gold. On occasion, a more useful metal would be found.

Many of the Elders theorized that their home was built on the ruins of a previous civilization. This was due to the mining division sometimes removing bones and tools along with the rare artifact. Nothing too impressive had been found, and those who had lived here most likely got killed by a wandering beast. It was not uncommon for horror stories to include a Basilisk plowing through a settlement, leaving only statues behind.

Tristan did not believe himself to be squeamish but he still did not want to find a set of human bones. It was unlikely though as he would probably not be swinging a pick ax or pushing a cart. At worst he would be holding a light or picking up the fallen metal.

There was a noise beside him, Tristan blinked as he looked at the person beside him. It was a man, well boy of about seventeen. Tristan was still of an age where a four-year age difference was massive. However, despite the boy’s age, he was about the same height as Tristan. Tristan was tall for his age and the newcomer was on the shorter side. He was wearing a dirty brown tunic, pants with a hole torn in the knees, and was chewing on a piece of grass. Coupled with tan skin and blond hair, the boy looked like he walked straight off of a farm.

“Hey, the name is Luke,” The boy held out a hand. He was on Tristan’s right side, so he had to manage his crutch, walk, and shake hands.

After a few tries Tristan gave up and offered his left hand instead, “My name is Tristan.”

Luke frowned for a moment. Shaking with the left hand was considered a rude gesture. Most people were right-hand dominant, meaning a shake with a right hand meant that you would put effort into the conversation or relationship. A left hand meant you didn’t really think that goodwill with a person was worth cultivating, in the same way, most did not cultivate left-handed skills.

Luke was being rude for putting Tristan in that situation, so he did not care too much about being polite. Tristan decided he would ignore the farm boy.

It took a moment, then Luke continued, “Soooo, was what Elder Forest said true? Do you have a metal kern?”

Tristan wondered if Luke's brain was damaged. Why would an Elder lie about something so easy to prove, but as it wasn’t really a secret Tristan answered, “Yes, I have a metal kern.” Then he mentally swore, he had promised to ignore him.

Luke’s eyes lit up, “So are the legends true? Can you kill a thousand men? Are you only satisfied by shedding the blood of the innocent? Do you eat souls?”

“What?” Tristan almost tripped over his crutch, “I have a tier zero kern.”

“So you can’t kill a thousand men,” Luke said. He seemed way too excited about this, “So what about a hundred-,”

“No, I can’t,” Tristan yelled. Most of the people walking to the mine were now paying attention to their conversation, “Why would I even want to do that? Also, I’m on crutches! And stop starting every sentence with ‘so’.”

“So…” Luke trailed off at Tristan’s glare before restarting, “Well it would be cool to be able to defeat a thousand people, I’m not even sure a hero could do that.”

Tristan could only nod at that. It had indeed been one of his dreams to be a great warrior. If he had gotten both his parent's elements then it would have been within reach. Artifacts were rare, but fire was the most common, and dark was not uncommon. There was a reason why dual kern people were well known, they were able to siphon essence out of two separate kinds of artifacts. As such it was expected for people with dual kerns to grow to at least tier two regardless of where they began.

Luke’s face scrunched up as if he was having a seizure, “S-well, do you have the desire to murder people.”

Tristan opened his mouth to say no, but he was feeling the slight urge to beat Luke with his crutch, so he answered, “There is a distinct possibility.”