After six full months of intensive theoretical studies, the long-awaited day finally arrived—the day when the students were to be divided into their specializations. Each pair of partners would now be assigned to a different role within the mine, based on their abilities and compatibility. The excitement in the air was palpable, mixed with a bit of nervous anticipation.
By this point, the students had already learned how to sense the unique power that resided deep within the earth. They had practiced how to draw it out and shape it into various forms, each suited for a different purpose. They had also studied how to process the material once it was extracted—learning to refine it for a wide range of specific and often complex needs.
Mr. Bloom observed the students proudly as they prepared for the next stage of their journey. He was especially pleased with the noticeable progress they had made. Their understanding had deepened, their control had improved, and most importantly, their curiosity had not faded. As he watched them organize themselves and move into position, a satisfied smile crossed his face. He felt proud not only of the students, but also of himself—for trusting his instincts and giving Tim the teaching role in the first place.
The special event called for a celebration no less special, and Tim made sure to prepare the party just as it should be. That evening, the students and villagers gathered together in the heart of the village, inside a unique structure used for important events and ceremonies. The building itself was carved from the trunk of a massive, ancient tree—so wide that its central hall could easily accommodate all the villagers and still have space left over. Its scale and uniqueness made it a source of fascination for generations.
Among the village elders, there were long-standing disputes about the origin of the tree. No one could say for certain when the building was constructed, nor could anyone explain how the tree had come to stand in the village in the first place. Everyone agreed that this particular type of tree didn't grow anywhere near their mountainous region. According to the traditional accounts passed down in the village, the furniture within the hall—benches, tables, railings—had all been made from the same great trunk, carefully shaped so that no part of it would go to waste. The wood was stronger and more durable than any ordinary tree, and though theoretically someone could break a piece of it, no one ever dared try.
Tim stood at the center of the hall, raising his voice to address the crowd. "This is our last day as teacher and students," he declared. "I hope each of you studied well and that you'll find your place in the mine's work." A wave of applause followed. The past six months had not been easy. The training had been long, difficult, and demanding, both mentally and physically.
Referring to what they had learned as "magic" would not do justice to the deep-rooted traditions of the village. The teachings resembled more a martial art—one of ancient origin, wrapped in secrecy, with each stage of training carrying a quiet, mysterious weight. However, not every student was sensitive enough to feel the deeper meaning woven into the steps of their learning. For those who didn't notice or didn't pay attention, what remained of the art was only the outward appearance—something that looked like magic, but without the hidden essence.
Still, for many of the students, especially those who had dreamed of learning magic, the results were more than satisfying. They had discovered power, technique, and discipline, and even if they didn't fully grasp the depth of what they had inherited, they knew they had become part of something rare and powerful.
The event continued on joyfully and energetically until the evening hours. As twilight began to settle over the village and the flickering lanterns inside the great hall cast warm golden light over the crowd, Tim stepped forward to perform one of the most important tasks of the ceremony. With the same mixture of authority and care that had accompanied his teaching throughout the last six months, he began distributing roles to all the new graduates. Each assignment had already been decided by the village council, as was done each year, in a traditional and carefully held discussion that weighed many considerations, both known and unknown to the students. The roles were divided according to ability, temperament, lineage, and a host of factors that only the elders fully understood.
As Tim called out the names and roles one by one, the graduates stood proudly alongside their assigned work partners. Tom and Laura, who had already expected the result, were officially assigned to the processing department. Even though both of them belonged to the rare type of miners who didn't require a partner to channel energy effectively, their cooperation had always been strong, and Tim had already agreed with them in advance that they would be allowed to remain together.
The atmosphere was festive but calm, the kind of calm that follows the resolution of anticipation. The final applause and congratulations were already beginning to die down. Some villagers had begun to gather their things. Others were simply standing and chatting in groups, enjoying the last few moments of the shared experience, surrounded by laughter, warmth, and the familiar creaking of the massive wooden hall.
And then, just when it seemed the event was coming to a quiet and respectful end, the massive wooden doors of the building flew open with a thunderous bang. The sound echoed through the great hall with such force that it brought everything to a sudden halt. Conversations froze mid-sentence, hands froze mid-motion, and the joyous hum of the celebration turned into an uneasy silence. The sudden noise carried with it a kind of heaviness, an almost symbolic noise that seemed to scream corruption, negligence, decay—and the unavoidable waste of public funds
Standing in the doorway, framed by the last light of the sun and the glow from the hall behind him, was none other than Simon—the one considered by most to be the bravest person in the entire village. He was the head of the deep mining team, a team known by all for being the only one that dealt with the true dangers lurking beneath the mountains. Unlike the other teams who worked in safety and routine, Simon's team descended into the unknown, the depths where real mining was done, where legends were born and lives were risked daily.
Simon had a reputation that preceded him, not just for his courage, but for his bluntness, his independence, and the sheer force of his presence. He was not someone who was ever ignored. He was not someone who arrived anywhere quietly. His entrance, however loud or rude, was always justified by the dangerous life he led and the respect he commanded.
It was also well known that Simon was often short on manpower. That was why, every year, he was invited to these graduation events. He was given the rare privilege to choose a few students for himself—those whom he saw potential in, those who could survive the training he would give, those who could perhaps one day match his skill. When Simon chose a student, that student didn't just go to work. They underwent further training, additional education that was separate from the magic they had learned in school or the martial discipline taught in the village. Simon had learned from a different teacher altogether—a knight of the kingdom, trained in the ancient knightly orders of the capital, a man of both honor and war.
The world Simon came from was one of shadows, danger, and monsters. The deep mines were not merely full of rock and ore. They were full of creatures—horrifying creatures—that the students had only read about in old books and dusty scrolls. These were not just stories. These were realities that made the blood run cold. Just the descriptions alone were enough to keep most villagers far away from the deep tunnels.
"What do you want?" Tim asked, his voice filled with irritation as he began rolling up his sleeves in a deliberate and exaggerated motion, as though preparing for a physical confrontation if Simon decided to act foolishly. The tension in the room rose slightly, and a few of the students exchanged glances. Despite Tim's clear annoyance, Simon remained completely stern, standing his ground without flinching.
"I'll take one of these with me," Simon stated flatly, his voice deep and unyielding, as though the decision had already been made and he was simply delivering the message.
"And who exactly gave you permission to do that?" Tim shot back, his tone sharp and his brow furrowing as he took a few heavy, purposeful steps forward in Simon's direction. His body language made it clear that he wasn't just asking a question—he was challenging Simon directly, both verbally and physically.
Simon kept his tough, stony expression, not moving a muscle at first. But Tom, standing nearby, happened to notice a small yet telling detail: a bead of sweat beginning to form at the edge of Simon's forehead, glistening faintly under the hall's warm light. That single drop betrayed more than words ever could.
It might not have been something many knew, but there were exactly two people in the world whom Simon, the bravest man in the village and head of the deep mining team, truly feared. The first was his own wife, who had a temper and strength to rival any warrior. The second was none other than Mr. Bloom, the quietly powerful figure behind much of the village's inner workings. Aside from those two, Simon feared no one—not even Tim, who was currently squaring up to him.
But even the legendary Simon, known for venturing into the darkest, most dangerous depths of the mines, understood that crossing Tim could lead to serious consequences. So, trying to keep his calm despite the rising tension, Simon finally replied, "That's Mr. Bloom's order." As if to punctuate his words with force, he slammed his large, calloused hand against the nearby wooden wall. The impact echoed through the hall and caused the wall to crack slightly—just enough to make everyone fall silent and glance at the damage.
Tim exhaled sharply, the breath escaping his lungs as a frustrated sigh. He realized, with growing annoyance, that there was nothing he could do in this situation. If he pushed Simon any further, the man might very well destroy more of the building—or worse, escalate things beyond repair. And given that this was still a village event, Tim knew he needed to de-escalate. So, lowering his voice just a bit but still sounding displeased, he asked, "Who do you need? You're well aware we only have two specials this year."
Simon grunted, crossing his arms as if to emphasize how unimpressed he was by the small number. "One too many," he said sarcastically, a mocking smirk flickering at the edge of his lips. "I only need one of them. Give me the one with the highest concentration of matter."
The students themselves were visibly very jealous of the incredible opportunity that lay before Tom and Laura. After all, Simon and his team were considered the most fascinating and daring people in the entire village, known for engaging in the most thrilling and rewarding work there was. Stories about their exploits were often whispered among the younger villagers, who dreamed of one day joining those ranks. Tom himself didn't really want to work with Simon—because, between you and me, Simon was a maniac, and Tom was one of the few in the village who truly understood that.
"I can't stand your nonsense," Tim said sharply, frustration clear in his voice as he rolled up his sleeves, ready to confront Simon if he started acting foolish again. Then, turning toward Laura, he called out firmly, "Laura." She came immediately, almost like a soldier responding to an order.
"Yes, Teacher Tim," she answered, standing eagerly next to him, full of anticipation.
"You're going with Simon," Tim continued, "because Mr. Bloom has requested that Tom stay and work in his family's area."
The words hit Laura hard. She suddenly realized that she wouldn't be working alongside Tom after all. Her excitement quickly faded into disappointment, and she made no effort to hide the expression of sadness on her face. It was a subtle shift, but enough to be noticed by those around her.
"You have nothing to be disappointed about, girl," Simon said with a rough, almost mocking tone. "The work we do is one of the most coveted jobs in the entire kingdom. Even the Shining King himself doesn't know what really goes on underground in those mines."
Laura glanced at Tom, hoping for some kind of reassurance, a hint or advice to ease her disappointment. But Tom was too intimidated by Simon's dominant personality to say much. Instead, he simply gave her a quick thumbs up and silently communicated that it was indeed a worthwhile job—something to be proud of. The small hall was instantly filled with whispers of envy and amazement from the other students, who were both awed and envious of the assignment. Simon, who loved nothing more than to stir up tension and quarrels between people, watched the scene with a satisfied grin on his face.
"You start tomorrow," Simon said in a commanding, no-nonsense tone. "I already spoke to Mr. Bloom. Whoever I need to start on my team begins immediately, so make sure you come directly to my office first thing in the morning."
"Yes," Laura replied obediently, sounding like a rookie soldier who had just been ordered to clean bat droppings on her very first day.
Simon wasted no time and quickly left the room, but not before delivering one last act of aggression—he kicked the poor old door again with a loud bang. He then paused just outside the hall, turned back toward Laura, and added, "Bring equipment for two weeks. We're going on a long hike."
With that, Simon strode out of the ancient tree building, walking away with his usual confident, hedonistic swagger. But suddenly, out of nowhere, a smashed piece of the door was hurled at him with surprising force, causing him to stumble and roll on the ground like the loser he really was beneath his bluster.
"You broke this!" Tim shouted after him from inside the hall, voice ringing with irritation. "Just don't forget to pay for it—because the report will definitely go to Mr. Bloom."
Simon scrambled to his feet nervously and quickly walked away, clearly not wanting to deal with more trouble. After all, Mr. Bloom had already given him several warnings for his reckless behavior, and Simon was dangerously close to receiving his tenth suspension, which would surely put an end to his career in the mines.
It was early evening when the meeting ended. Unique streetlights illuminated the street with a pleasant glow.
All the boys dispersed, and Tom returned to his house. Laura accompanied him.
"Tell me, Tom," she asked, noticing that since her sister left, she had become much closer to him.
"Yes?" Tom prompted, seeing that she was lost in thought.
"Since my older sister left, I haven't received any news about her, and I would really like to know where she went with John."
Tom didn't show much interest and said, "Don't worry. I'm sure that sooner or later Liana will contact you. I know her — she loves her family very much."
Laura was surprised. "It sounds like you don't really care what happens to Liana and John."
"Liana is older now; I'm sure she'll be fine. And John is just a zero. I hope he doesn't."
Tom looked up at the black sky and saw the white moon, which, according to legends, is colder than the highest mountain peaks. He turned his head and looked at the snowy mountain peaks. The adults always said that the mountain peaks hide the red moon. Tom wanted to see it someday, so he decided that in the future he would climb the mountain to watch the red moon.
"How can it be that your childhood friend was taken to an unknown place and you don't care?" Laura asked.
Tom looked away from the mountains and smiled broadly. "There are people I care about more than them."
She understood what he meant. After all, her parents could visit her sister, so she was probably fine. Tom cared more about those who were in the village.
Although what he really meant was that he cared more about her than her sister.
He patted her on the head, and they each went home.