The Sinner
Page 20
I walked along the path that the striker had taken so many times before.
I rarely traveled to the mountain,
Mostly due to the amount of work I received.
I remember my first trip to the mine,
When I blazed that very trail
In order to make it through the thickened woods.
The path was just wide enough to allow
For a wagon to advance through.
The constant leveling of the land
From the large wooden wheels
Had proven to make my current travels easier.
I had three separate mines that I had acquired,
But I first went to the largest one where
I believed my striker was currently mining the ore.
The blacksmiths who owned several mines
Had rituals for the strikers that were meant for safety.
The main one involved a red flag
That was placed at the entrance to the mine.
It allowed for anyone at the beginning
To know that a striker was currently working.
With no flag, it was impossible to know
Which mine they were in.
The flags were usually battered and torn
From the constant staking and
Spending half of the time lying on the ground.
I came to the entrance of my largest mine and
Upon further exploration, I saw the red flag upon the ground.
Knowing he was not in there,
I traveled to my second mine.
After arrival, the evidence was the same
With the red flag lying on the ground.
Becoming frustrated from my travels,
I journeyed towards my third and final mine
Where I would soon discover a red flag flapping in the wind.
Another ritual that the strikers had
Was to light torches to mark the depth
That they were going within the mine.
Every few corners of the mine had a torch attached to the wall.
As the striker passed them,
They would light it to remind themselves
Regarding the depth they had achieved.
Not only did the light provide them with the ability to see,
But also offered safety from roaming animals that often entered.
The mine had changed since I had been in it last.
My striker had done a great job excavating
A properly laid out path that spiraled downward
According to mining standards.
The path was a good size
With mining burrows equally spaced out
On either side in order to avoid the potential of collapse.
The structure of the mine required expertise and precision
When burrowing new paths.
The mountain was still under the ownership of Mother Nature
And if angered, she could deny us of her resources.
She could deny us of her resources.
The respect for her was always high
As it was told that a few strikers
Had fallen victim to her and were never seen again.
Some say they were consumed by the mountain
Others claim they had become her personal servants.
Either way, it was always beneficial
To give proper admiration to the mountain and its resources.
I proceeded down the mine path and
Passed several torches before coming to an abandoned wagon.
I ruled out the option of thievery
As the wagon was almost completely full with fresh ore.
I found the scene very odd.
It appeared that my striker had plenty of cargo for a delivery and
The position of the wagon led me to believe
That he was making the journey back.
I continued further deeper into the mine
Passing more torches along my way.
My concern for my striker increased the further I went.
The confusion of seeing the abandoned wagon puzzled me, but
Provided me with a mental companion for my trip.
After passing the eighth torch,
I came across a pick axe and shovel.
There was absolutely no reason
Why tools should have been that far away from the wagon.
It did not make sense to mine the ore
Then carry it further away to the wagon.
That second round of evidence
Prompted me to unleash my sword
As I believed something had gone awry.
My striker was more diligent than that.
His work pattern was predictable and timely.
With sword in hand, I passed more torches.
The flames danced off of the perfectly etched steel blade.
I found myself admiring the artwork of the sword.
It was not one of my more extravagant creations,
But it was still beautiful to gaze upon,
Especially in the random light pattern of the torches.
From around the next corner
I could hear the faint voice of a person.
I was still too far away to fully understand the words,
But every step I took offered me more clarity.
I came across a lone man huddled to the ground near the far wall
Who was obviously distraught.
His mannerisms showed evidence that by his body shivering.
At first I thought he was my striker, but
I would soon learn of my own mistake when he turned around.
I had never met him before,
But he had the personal attributes of a striker
With his small stature and pale complexion.
I told him I was the owner of the mine and
Asked him what he was doing there.
He stated that he was a striker of a nearby mine
And shared the journey into town with my striker.
He said that he stopped by the entrance of the mine when he
Noticed the red flag was still up.
His concern for his friend
Prompted him inside
As he had heard rumors of rabid bears
Roaming the mines around the mountain.
I asked him about the whereabouts of my striker.
He pointed further down the mine with a twitching finger.
I gripped my blade tighter and
Told him to stay where he was.
As I walked away from him,
I noticed that he stood underneath the last lit torch.
Through the faded light,
I saw what appeared to be small trenches in the dirt floor
As if something had been dragged.
I followed the mysterious path,
Which lead me further into the darkness.
I saw the hazy outline of the first unlit torch
And a large mass lying beneath it.
The lack of light severely blocked my rational judgment,
It intensified my curiosity as I reached to the pile.
My horrid predictions came true as
I rolled over the lifeless body of my striker.
Evidently the darkness was not as black
As I had imagined since
I saw every feature of his mutilated body
In such detail that I leaped back in disgust.
The vision churned my insides and
Struck me in the stomach so hard that
I vomited against the mine wall.
Then the smell assaulted my senses
As I did not experience it when I first arrived.
The shock soon wore off as visions
Of a rabid bear still lurking in the mine
Took control of my mind and guided me
To follow the path of torches back.
The other striker was still there where I left him.
I grabbed his
arm and said that we had to leave.
I had a fear that the bear would return to the mine.
The striker did not hesitate to accompany me
And was also eager to be outside again.
We came to the abandoned wagon full of ore.
The striker immediately grabbed the handles and began to pull.
The sounds of the squeaking wheels carrying the full cargo
Echoed through the mine.
The gesture from the striker was very unselfish
Considering the latest events and was welcomed
As I had not received a fresh batch of ore in several days.
We reached the threshold of the mine entrance and
Exited into the conjuring moonlight.
I told the striker that he could return to his home, but
He insisted that he would help me
By pulling the wagon to my shop.
He said it was the least he could do.
I accepted his gracious gift
As we journeyed down the base of the mountain.
The moonlight highlighted the woods in an eerie haze.
My early rise for work prompted me to be asleep
Normally during that time frame.
I was a bit uneasy especially with
The large amount of shifting shadows.
The army of bark warriors toyed with my emotions and
Surrounded us on either side of the path.
They moved with the motion of the wind
Allowing their numbers to double in size.
I kept my eyes on the path and
My power fully focused within the grip of my sword.
The striker was a few paces behind me,
But that did not stop him from offering conversation.
He said his name was Leviathan,
But his friends called him Levi.
He said he had not always been a striker,
That he was once an artist.
I did not prompt any conversation as
My attention was fully consumed
By the army of trees that could attack us
At any given moment.
Levi continued his random speaking
By saying that he was not a full-time striker,
That he filled in for other strikers
When something minor or drastic happened.
I had heard of that and used a loan striker
Once when my striker grew ill.
My current situation had prompted me to be in need of another.
The journey back gave me time to reflect
Upon what I discovered in the mine.
I did have remorse and sorrow for my striker,
But it was not the same level I would have shown
For a friend or loved one.
I was more friends with
His consistency and timeliness
Than I was as a person.
I blamed the lack of time spent with him
For that as I only saw him while he
Unloaded the ore every few days.
I was not alone in my personality as
Most blacksmiths abided by the same concept.
Our work was our first love,
It overshadowed any type of friendships
We may have encountered.
We never stopped to realize how important
A striker was to us until the wagons stopped.
I was not the worst of the bunch and
Tried to make my striker feel at home,
But I never intentionally befriended him.
It was more like a courtesy friendship
With no backbone to support it.
Unlike the current striker
Who was pulling the wagon,
Who had talked the whole journey back to the shop.
His words describing his life
Drained my energy and made the travel appear endless at times.
At one point, it was almost worth it for me
To pull the wagon myself and leave him behind.
I never underestimated the sound of silence until that day.
I only offered him my attention
During the beginning leg of our journey.
Unfortunately, he took that small portion of acceptance
And bled it like a trapped boar.
I heard every problem that he had in his life.
How he planned on overturning them.
My mind became numb and it was a blessing as
It allowed me to ignore a few of his stories.
He had single handily ruined
The lovely sound of the squeaking wheels that I adored.
The association between the wheels
And his mouth united together
Along the path that night and proved devastating for me.
My next thought was presented to me
Either by my tired body or vacant mind.
I asked him who he was currently working for.
After pushing me off of the conversation cliff
With tangent stories of devastating fates and fortunes,
He arrived at the answer that I desired in the beginning.
He claimed he currently was on loan
For my neighboring blacksmith and
That he had delivered his final load today.
He was the complete opposite from my previous striker and
Everything that I did not want in one,
But I was desperate to return my
Ore delivery back to a more consistent schedule.
The missing loads of the substance had put me in a bind
Regarding certain projects that I was working on.
When he took a moment to pause for breath,
Which rarely happened,
I inserted my own question very quickly and
Asked him if he wanted to work for me.
He responded by asking if I meant on loan or permanently.
I answered him saying that it would be a permanent position and
The pay would be competitive.
Before I could say any more,
He jumped at the opportunity
Like a wolf devouring a sheep after stalking it all night.
He said as a good sign of faith
He would take care of the body in the mine
So that I would not have to travel again.
That offered me some relief
As the puddle of flesh I witnessed would cause me
To lose my appetite for a few days.
I retired for the night while he unloaded the wagon
With the understanding that he would
Journey back to the mine early in the morning.
Work continued as usual over the next few days.
My excitement even returned from the sound
Of the squeaking wagon wheels.
I had yet to receive a full delivery
From the hands of Levi and his visit today would be the first.
I was desperate last night and wanted
To reduce the downtime between deliveries.
My initial plan was to have Levi work for a few days
While I searched for a striker who was more my taste.
That concept got washed away as
I witnessed the first load that Levi had mined.
The amount was breathtaking to see.
There was so much ore in the wagon
With all of the excess dirt almost all removed.
The entire wagon was overflowing with ore.
My old striker had never brought that much
For the mere fact that he could not pull the weight.
Not to mention that he mined that entire load
Within two days instead of three.
I was excited about the delivery
That I even helped him unload it, which was a first.
I wanted to know how he managed that,
But I did not want to give off the perception
That the amount was
unusual.
As soon as we unloaded the last piece of ore,
Levi picked up the cart,
Headed back towards the mountain and
Left me behind with astonishment blistered upon my face.
Two days later, I heard the squeak
Coming from the wagon wheels.
That high crank when the axle
Grinded with the wooden wheel was the same level
As it was for his first delivery.
I halted my work and looked down the path.
I saw the wagon with the same mound of coal
Extending above Levi’s head.
That amount of ore was unheard of
Within that short of time period.
No striker cleaned the ore prior to delivery
As it took too much time.
Levi was mining faster than any other striker
I had met and dusting the ore during the process.
I thought maybe that he was trying to impress me,
That it would not last through the season,
But once again I was wrong.
Ten deliveries into his work for me and
All ten had been with the same quality and quantity.
I started projects that I had only dreamed of,
But were unable to create due to the amount of ore required.
The everyday creations benefited greatly
From the increase in ore and
I was able to hand pick certain qualities for particular projects.
That type of ore freedom was scarce.
Levi had personally increased my
Productivity and quality of my work,
However, I kept my excitement to myself.
I did show my gratitude in other ways
By providing him with food and a bed when he made a delivery.
With so much ore at my disposal,
I often allowed him to rest the night of his arrival
Since my demand was at a comfortable level.
The next morning prior to heading to the mountain,
Levi was not his usual talkative self.
I hesitated asking him about it
As his answers were always long winded.
I took a deep breath and
Asked him what was troubling him.