Daggub was on his 13th climb up from the cave that day, his back laden with a pack full of gravel and dreams. His long, dagger-like ears were red from exertion, and his usual soot covered robes were even more tattered and torn than usual, ruined from the climb back out of the cave, and his hair was pulled into a fully matted black ponytail. Pulling the pack off his back, he threw the loose stones onto an ever growing pile at the mouth of the cave, a narrow opening in between trees just off his farm next to the Ruby Road; the stones making a loud racket as they pooled up onto the dying grass.

The work was hard, but Daggub was harder and grittier than any stone. He put the pack back onto his back and turned once again towards the cave, taking but a moment's rest to steal his will and his body. He was determined, convinced this cave would be his family's salvation.

Yes, his salvation. Tucked close to his heart, beneath the binder on his chest, lay the ticket to keeping his homeland within his family: A letter from his late great grandmother detailing a great and wondrous treasure she had found. A great cave system, filled to the brim with otherworldly white and jade crystals, cascading waterfalls pouring from the roof that never seemed to end. A true wonderland; a land full of magic.

Daggub began heading down into the cave entrance for the 14th time when he was interrupted by a large, burly arm grabbing onto his shoulder. Spinning him around, he came face to boiling red face with his older brother, Iom. His eyes were full of concern and rage, his ears even redder than Daggub’s, the long tips nearly neon in color.

“Is this where you've been these last few travels,” Iom said through teeth gritted hard enough to filter the dust still on his brother's clothes. He gave his brother a once over, getting progressively more annoyed at the state of his clothes, covered in the dust of some hole instead of the dust of coal.

“You should be back at the blacksmiths, working on packing our belongings, finishing up the last clients, requests, feeding the Trasques, anything other than digging around for a cave that doesn't exist!”

“But it does exist,” Daggub snaped back, “and Great grandma saw it, she wrote all about it!”

“Great Grandma was an old coot and you know that! She died in that hole and you're going to join her!”

“Those caves are the only way we're gonna be able to keep our land, Iom,” Daggub turned away from his brother, his breathing getting labored beneath the binder, “If we don't find them we're going to lose our home.”

“So what? The Royal army is paying us for this land, quite a bit more than any other offer we've received, we can buy a new blacksmithy somewhere in the city. We'll even be safe from the Conglomerates!”

“But Ma and Pa gave us this land! It's been in our family for generations! We can't just abandon it like that!”

“What does it matter? There's barely enough magic left here to even start the forge! Even Ma and Pa would've left by now.”

“But they still gave us this land, this home they built. Its all we have left of them! We don't have much time to save this place, it'll be gone!”

“Ma and Pa are gone! They're gone and you need to get over that!”

The air went silent between the two, not even a shred of wind daring to break the tension. Daggub looked away from his brother, Iom looked dejected at what he said, the blood fading from his ears into a pale brown color. Daggub turned back towards the mouth of the cave, refusing to look at his brother. Iom sighed.

“Listen, daggub,” he began, “You're my little brother. My only little brother. You're all I have left, I don't want you to end up like great Grandma and waste your life dying for something that might not exist, and I don't want to end up like Poppy and spend the rest of my life searching for you. I can't do that. You're all I got.”

“And this is all I got,” Daggub said coldly. Iom clenched his fist in rage, the tension taking hold as he punched a nearby tree, violet leaves falling down with his outburst.

“Fine! If you wanna throw your life away in some Gods forsaken hole, then do it!”

Daggub could barely hear his brother's outrage. He was already back inside the cave. Waiting until his brother left, he let out a sigh of his own; he finally began his 14th trip into the cave.

Feeling around his pouch, he pulled out a small stone with a tiny sapphire ingrained into its back. Rubbing the sapphire, he smiled when it began to glow with a soft white light.

“Where there's sparks, there is the light,” Daggub whispered, clenching the stone as if he were praying, he felt it get warmer in his hand before the brilliant light shot forth from the gem.

“Good,” he said with relief, ”Should be enough magic for me to back to the dig site and home at least once more.“ Daggub carefully held the stone out in front of him, clearing away the darkness in front of him as he made his way deeper into the bowels of the earth. He was extremely careful with his light source; Light Stones are extremely fragile, most breaking after a single tumble. Daggub remembered the first time he had to learn that lesson as he passed the scorched remains of his first few Light Stones. What they lacked in durability, they made up for in sheer lumens, as Daggub could already see his destination: the wreckage of a long ago cave in blocked access to the rest of the cave. 

Daggub was successful in clearing away a large portion of the cave in, enough for a singular Anurian to barely squeeze through anyways. There was still much work to do though, but he was close. He reached into his binder and pulled out his great Grandmother's letter, on the back of which was a crudely drawn sketch of the caves Daggub found himself in, and just on the other side of this blockage lay his prize: A Manastone cave. 

A Manastone cave would solve all of their problems, they would have enough magic to relight their forges, they would have enough money to pay off their debts, and they would have a birthright claim to the cache of Magic, so the military couldn't take it from them by force. It was Daggub's hopes made manifest, and he would dig them out of the ground by any means necessary.

Daggub pulled himself out of his daydreams, and got to work. Placing the Light Stone on a pile of rocks he specifically carved to light his work, it illuminated a bright red pickaxe embedded into the wall; the runes on it pulsating a deep blue as Daggub pulled it free from the wall. It was once his father's pickaxe, the same one that used to supply the family with the ore they used for their smithy. Now it would be the pickaxe used to mine their dreams from the ground. 

Daggub inhaled deeply, holding the pickaxe aloft his head he felt the magic welling around him and into the pickaxe, the runes on it glowing brighter and brighter before he finally swung it down into the stone in front of him. The pickaxe bore through the stone like a Stream Sword through armor; large cracks emanating from the point of impact, dust trailing down from the ceiling just above Daggub, but the cave held firm, the Light Stone dimmed a bit before returning to its normal brightness.

Daggub smiled to himself, ”Thanks Pa for the help,“ he whispered to himself. The glow of the runes faded as the magic in the pickaxe ran out. Daggub would have to mine the hard way now; adjusting his stance, Daggub settled in for the long haul, using much less force than before as to not disturb the walls too much, lest he should risk a cave in.

Daggub dug, and dug, and dug, and dug, and dug, and dug, and dug some more. Stones, rocks, pebbles, and gravel gave way as Daggub slowly bore through the wall. Whenever the debris made it too hard to dig, he'd gather it up and pile it inside his pack until it was just barely liftable; and then it was back to digging, and digging, and digging, and digging, and even more digging. 

After hours and hours of digging, Daggub was nearly full on his pack. The heat was building up from his exertion, having grown enough to become unbearable, daggub had thrown his shirt and binder near his back. Airing out his breasts and face, he sat down at the end of the tunnel he had dug and rested for a bit. 

”Ugh,“ he said while cracking his back, ”I don't know how you managed to do this for 200 cycles, Pa. I've only done this a few times and my back is already staging a rebellion against me.“

Daggub chuckles to himself, he'd remember him and his brother eagerly watch their father haul impossible amounts of ore and metal up the hill where their house stood, the material in his pack high enough that Iom and Daggub could swear they knew their father was on his way back just by looking for the pile of rocks above the treeline.

Daggub remembered excitingly watching their parents work, his mother a master of the forge effortlessly sorting the yields their father brought home and jokingly saying it was all trash, him and Iom would obviously rush to their fathers defense, saying the ore was as red as his pickaxe. Him and Iom; Daggub looked down at the ground. 

Iom was the only one left of his family, their parents were dead. They were gone. Iom was the one who took up their mother and fathers work, all by himself. Iom was the one that was there, he was the one who made him a new binder when the one their mother made grew too small. Iom was the one who was fighting with the Regents over their land rights. Iom was the one who's been there.

”And what am I doing,“ Daggub thought to himself, ”Wasting our limited time here trying to revive memories that won't come back.“ 

Daggub laid there head against the cooling embrace of the cave wall. Clearing their head, escaping to their calming place of imaginary rivers and rapids, the sounds of the water cleared his mind. Daggub knew that he had to go and apologize to his brother. Jumping to his feet, he popped his back in all directions, making satisfying crack sounds as if his body was agreeing with him that this was the right thing to do. The sounds of rushing water only added to this agreement. Daggub hurriedly grabbed the pickaxe, but gave pause for just a moment. 

”Running water,“ he asked himself, “Why do I still hear my babbling brook?”

The sound wasn't coming from his happy place, no, it was coming from the wall. The otherside of the wall. His dream place, the Manastone caves. Daggub quickly swung the pickaxe into the wall with reckless abandon. One jab, two jabs, the wall began to crack open. Three jabs, four jabs, the crack began to widen even further; then on the fifth jab, the tip of the pickaxe went all the way through. A tiny peephole letting in but the slightest slimmer of magical light. Daggub peered through the hole he made, and began radiating a smile brighter than his slowly dimming Light Stone.

The Manastone caves were even more beautiful than his great Grandmother had described, the crystals stretched from floor to ceiling, glowing with the bright, multispectrum aura of pure magic. The few waterfalls visible shimmered beautifully in the magical light, cascading into rainbows as they torrented around the crystals. Daggub was so close to his dream, to his hope of saving his home. All that stood between them now was this wall.

With a newfound determination, Daggub held his father's pickaxe once again and swung into the rock wall. The pickaxe bounced off the wall and clattered out of his hands as if he was deftly disarmed by a master Knight, and daggub swiftly fell onto the ground with his momentum. Rubbing the back of his head, Daggub reoriented himself and inspected the wall. Inlaid with the usual browns and dark grays of the stones around him was the familiar shade of crimson that his pickaxe was made of. An entire boulder of near pure Sky Iron.

Daggub cursed to himself, before getting back to his feet; one final obstacle left before his prize. Daggub readied his stance once again, holding the pickaxe high above his head. He stood in front of the impenetrable lump of ore and focused all his energy on a single spot, bringing the full weight of himself and the pickaxe onto a singular point of the ore. The ore responded harshly as it bounced the pickaxe right out of Daggub's hands, sparks emanating from the point it was struck illuminating the tunnel better than the Light Stone could.

This didn't deter Daggub, he got up, grabbed the pickaxe, and tried again. The same results, the ore refusing to budge even an inch as Daggub continuously swung over and over into it. His hands became bloody, his tailbone nearly dust, and his back a shredded mess of cuts and bruises. 

Daggub was beyond frustrated at the stupid ore, so tantalizingly close to his goal, and yet unable to reach it. He considered digging around the ore, but there was no telling how large it was; digging another tunnel would take far too long as well, it took Daggub nearly a full cycle to get this far already.

”Fine you stupid rock,“ Daggub said with exasperation, his face dripping with sweat and anger, ”You could've been useful, but i'm gonna turn you into rubble.“

Daggub grabbed his father's pickaxe once again, gripping it tighter than he has ever done. He focused his will, his energy, not into a point on the stubborn ore, but into the pickaxe itself. The runes regained their bright blue appearance, and grew even brighter as Daggub poured more and more magic into it. Caution was gone, his goal was right there. Soon he would have more than enough magic to make up for this deficit. 

Daggub inhaled, rising to his full height and beyond, he looked at the rock below him, unaware at the oblivion coming to it. Daggub closed his eyes, and swung the pickaxe for a final time.

”Strike the ground and split the world,“ he shouted as the pickaxe made contact. The cracks were barely visible as they engulfed the ore; the Light Stone went out just as the boulder turned to dust. There was no more magic here, save for the magic stored inside the Manastones.

Daggub was panting heavily, their energy nearly exhausted. Spells like that were dangerous, especially with low magic environments. He stepped through the portal he had opened up, the bright lights nearly blinding him as he made his way into his dreams.

Daggubs entire body, from his head to his legs, were covered in the fine red powder of Sky Iron ore; the ore that he looked as though he was both figuratively and literally murdered. He began to laugh to himself, a small celebratory laugh as he finally accomplished his dreams; he nearly collapsed, sitting down on the cool embrace of the cavern floor. Up close the Caves seem to go on forever and ever, Daggub could almost feel as if the world was shaking from his happiness. He could save his home! He could live with his brother in their parents' home! They could continue their craft just the way they've always done so. Daggub laughed, and the world continued to shake. Daggub stopped laughing, and the world continued to shake. Daggub stood up, and the world continued to shake.

The first crystal only nearly killed Daggub as it collapsed onto the spot he was sitting at. Daggub looked at the ceiling, his spell had not only cracked the boulder, but the entire cave system. The walls were shifting and sliding all around, the water flowing from above stopped as boulders poured out of the opening. 

Daggub deftly dodged rocks and boulders as he quickly made his way back towards the tunnel, back towards safety. The second crystal got its revenge for its ore cousin; Daggub didn't see it coming as it fell from the ceiling just in front of the entrance, pinning his body against the ground and breaking his arm in the process. Daggub screamed in agony, pinned underneath this goliath crystal, mere feet from being in slightly less danger.

Squirming did nothing to help, only strengthening the crystal's hold on him as he struggled to break free. It was as if the crystal knew of his plans for this place, and the sins he committed in order to reach it, and was punishing him for daring to dream. And like him, those dreams would now die, swallowed up in another cave in, trapped in this cave system for all time.

”Iom...“ he gruggled out, ”Sorry, you were right. I did end up just like Great Grandma.“ Daggub began to quietly sob, ”Please, forgive your little brother. Forgive me for being an idiot...“

”Don't you worry,“ Iom said, ”we'll find some way to punish you later.“

Daggub suddenly looked up, there he was. Iom standing there with a strained look on his face as though he was trying his damndest to hide his fear and panic. He knelt down next to his brother, and quickly wiped away the dust that had accumulated on his face, a smile now adorning it. It quickly faded though as Daggub looked over the size of the boulder.

”Iom, what are you doing here?“

”I was coming to get you when I heard you cast a spell, I knew how little magic there was here but I didn't think it was enough to cause all of this.“

”I know, I'm an idi-,” Iom shushed his brother, and made his way to the center of the crystal pinning him to the ground. Attempting to lift it proved fruitless, it was far too heavy for even the heavily muscled Iom to lift, and there was no time to leave to get help. The falling rocks didn't make things better, as one fell above Daggub's head, a sharped stone of pure red, embedded in the wall from Daggub's spell, one final revenge. The pointed rock never made it to its intended victim though, as the blood from Iom's shoulder dripped down onto Daggub's face, Iom could only smile at his brother. It was strained, but he wouldn't give up hope yet.

“Iom! You're hurt! Please, just leave me! Save yourself, I'm not worth your life!”

“You idiot,” Iom said in between labored breathing, “of course you're worth it. You're my little brother, you're all I have left. I'm not going to just leave you here.” 

Iom looked besides his brother, and saw his father's pickaxe, perfectly positioned in the ground. He knew what he had to do. With his one good arm, he grabbed the pickaxe and held it aloft. Daggub didn't know what his brother was thinking. There wasn't any magic left to use in this area, he had wasted it all.

“Iom, what are you doing?”

“Bare with me for a second, Daggub, you know magic was never my strong point.”

With his useless arm he placed it onto the mana crystal, the colors of it swirling around Iom's arm. Iom breathed deeply, focusing his energy, and his normally dark skin began to glow with the same intensity of the Manastone. The runes on the pickaxe began to glow once again, brighter and brighter as Daggub realized what his brother was doing.

“Iom, stop! You can't handle that much magic in your body, no one can! You're going to kill yourself, stop!”

Iom ignored his brother, channeling the magic into the pickaxe. His entire body was practically glowing now, the blood dripping onto Daggub's face looking more and more like pure magic with every passing moment. Iom closed his eyes, remembering what his father would always say before mining. His eyes shot open, the entire pickaxe was engulfed in light, Iom was as brilliant as the sun.

“Strike the world,“ he shouted with all his heart, all his might, and brought the pickaxe down onto the crystal. Daggub felt the weight of the world lift off of him and it crumbled to dust; the world was not pleased at this as it began to rumble even louder. Daggub stood from this prison, clenching his broken arm he turned for his brother.

On the floor in front of him lay the body of his brother, the pickaxe nothing but a sturdy, smoldering stick; the arm holding his stick was a sickening shade of purple, the veins in the arm still glowing with magic. Iom wasn't moving, the blood wasn't dripping from his shoulder anymore. Daggub rushed to his brother, tears welling in his face.

Iom's breathing was slight and labored, but it was there. Daggub didn't have time to be thankful though, more and more of the ceiling was fully collapsing now. The crystals tumbled down a ravine that was slowly growing wider and wider. Daggub picked up his older brother, and stumbled as quickly as he could back into the tunnel just as the lights from the Manastones were finally fully covered up.

The light of the twin suns would've blinded Daggub if it weren't for those Manastones; he had managed to escape the caves before his eyes even had a chance to adjust to the darkness. Gently placing his brother onto the ground, Daggub listened for a heartbeat. It was faint, but it was there. Daggub's tears finally escaped as he cried on his brother's chest. 

“Iom i'm sorry for being a fool,” he said in between sobs. A hand gently caressed the top of his head, brushing the hair out of his face.

“You're not just a fool,” Iom said softly, “You're a fucking idiot, and i'm glad you're okay.”

“Iom!”

Daggub hugged his brother tightly, an avalanche of tears cascading into the nape of his neck. Daggub didn't care, his brother was going to be okay. He hugged his brother tighter, and got a sharp yelp in his ear in return. He quickly dismounted and composed himself, Daggub looked slightly annoyed.

“Careful there, I still got this thing stuck in my shoulder,” Iom pointed to the large chunk of Sky Iron still embedded in him, Daggub had nearly forgotten all about it.

”Oh gods i'm sorry,“ Daggub apologized, ”C'mon lets get that out of there.“

”It's fine,“ Iom replied, ”I think I got this.“

Iom sat up gingerly, and brought his disfigured arm up to fis face. The glow of magic had long stopped, but the effects of it remained. Iom couldn't feel anything in that arm, but it wasn't a numbing sensation. It was though it wasn't there whatsoever. He took a deep breath, and grabbed hold of the red stone stuck in his shoulder. Daggub watched with mild horror as Iom casually pulled the shard out of him, gently tossing it on the ground in front of them. His suspicions were correct, he couldn't feel that arm either; he couldn't even move it. Daggub looked down, dejected at what he caused.

”Iom...“ he began, ”I'm sorry. You were right, I did nearly end up like Great Grandma. I would've died in those caves if it wasn't for you.“

”That's right,“ Iom responded, ”But i'm sorry too.“

”Huh?“

”You were right about there being a Manastone cave down there. Maybe if I would've helped you instead of letting go so easily, none of this would've happened.“

”Don't say that, you were right from the beginning. We're all we got, Ma and Pa are gone, so we need each other.“

”Speaking of, what happened to Pa's pickaxe?“

”Oh...“ Daggub trailed off, ”it got destroyed when you saved me.“

”Oh...“

”Yeah, but it's okay. It was just a pickaxe. Who needs it anyways?“

”It was Pa's though. We can't replace that.“

Iom looked sad at the realization that his father's pickaxe was gone because of him. There must have been another way, some way to save everyone and everything. Iom couldn't think of one.

”It's okay though,“ Daggub said reassuringly, “I think I realized something while I was down there.”

“Hmmm,” Iom mumbled confusedly.

“I was remembering our childhoods, our time spent with our parents back in the day.”

“Right.”

“And I realized I've had those memories for a long time, even now I still have those memories. And that's what I treasure more than any physical thing left to us. We don't need the house, the land, or Pa's pickaxe. As long as we have those memories we'll always have them with us.”

“Heh, I think you're right, Daggub. That's what made me go down those caves in the first place.”

“What?”

“I was packing up some things when I stumbled on Ma's old hammer, and I would remember how she sometimes brought that hammer down on Pa whenever he spent too much time in his mines.”

“Hahaha, yeah I remember Ma getting real angry at Pa for not being there to greet us.”

“Hahaha, exactly. So that's what made me realize I need to do the same thing to you.”

“Well I'm glad you did, you saved my life.”

“You're sure right that I did.”

“Now we get to make new memories together.”

“Yeah, that's what Ma and Pa would've wanted I think.”

”Uh huh, now let's get you to a specialist. That purple does not look good on you.“

”Hold on one second first. Grab that shard for me real quick.“

”What for?“

”Well when we find a new home, you're gonna need a new pickaxe won't you? Let's make that our first memory: The creation of our new family pickaxe!“

Daggub and Iom laughed together, the two brothers helping each other up with the little strength they had left. Daggub grabbed the shard, the one thing he managed to pull from this collapsing mine, and ran to catch up with his brother as the two made their way home.