A small, malnourished boy stood alone in a mining tunnel. It was silent and dark all around. He was far beneath the ground, somewhere where the bright day gave way infinite night. In such a place, even the bravest spirit would have been uncomfortable but the boy was wholly unconcerned.

His mind was clear, his stance firm, as he swung a rusty pickaxe at the solid wall of earth ahead.

Clang!

The metal head sank in.

He pulled, causing dirt and rocks to tumble to the ground. A cloud of dust filled the air which stung his eyes and made him cough a few times. He waved his hands and fought through the discomfort. Stooping down, he picked up the rocks he dug up and examined them one by one.

He could see!

In this darkness where an ordinary person would not have been able to see their hands in front of their face, he could see everything as clear as day.

The boy frowned, having not found anything worthwhile. He shoved the product of his hard work to the side and raised the heavy pickaxe once more.

Clang!

Clang!

This place was an abandoned iron mine, neglected for many years. He hoped to find leftover scraps that the previous miners had missed. Mining ore and selling it to the village was profitable but it depended on luck.

He was only eleven years old but he was already working as a miner. He had no family or friends, no one to rely on but himself. It was easy for orphans in a similar position to starve to death but he was stubborn and clung to life. He was alone and he survived alone. His method of survival was mining.

The boy paused and wiped his forehead. Sweat poured down his bare chest, soaking through the dirty rags he wore as pants. He took a drink of water from a nearby bucket and stared upward.

The only source of light, the mine entrance, could not reach the deepest tunnels where he was. He had no torches or lamps and he didn’t need them. Ever since he could remember, he was able to see in the dark!

He could see roughly half as well in the dark compared to daylight. Normal colors were muted and grayed out but still distinguishable. It was a unique and useful ability for his profession as a miner but it wasn’t his greatest advantage. He also had a second, even more special ability, one that defied common sense…

As he swung his pickaxe, his eyes saw actual light!

This was different from his night vision. This was a glow that pulsed and flickered like a weak candle. It was fuzzy and without a coherent shape. It came when his pickaxe broke apart the earth and eventually dimmed if he didn’t do anything else.

The phenomena seemed impossible as there was no source of light but there actually was. It was something that only happened when he mined and only when he was mining towards valuable ore like iron and copper. It worked every time without fail. It worked even if his target was deep within the ground. Once he reached the ore and unearthed it, the sensation disappeared until he found the right direction towards another piece. It was therefore the ores themselves that emitted a special light that only he was able to see.

His eyes were special. As far he knew, no other miner had anything close to his gift. It was his secret, one that gave him a small advantage, one that helped him survive.

The boy paused again, wracked by hunger pangs. He was out of rations and he had not eaten anything for the last two days. He was starting to feel weak. His arms were sore. His body ached.

His eyes were special but not infallible. Luck was always a factor in mining and he was currently suffering through many days of bad fortunes. He had mined the current hole for a week without any profit. He knew there was ore here but he didn't know how far he had to go.

“Shit…” He muttered.

If he kept mining, he might starve to death before he found any ore. But if he gave up, he would have no money to buy food and he would still starve to death.

He didn’t want to die.

The only thing he knew how to do was mine so the choice was simple. There was nothing to do except swing his pickaxe. He had to find something. He absolutely had to.

“I can’t give up… Can’t… give up!”

---

It was nighttime when the boy returned from the wilderness and entered Blue Lake Village. The houses that sat beside the lake and dotted around the nearby farmland were constructed haphazardly and could only qualify as wooden shacks or mud huts. The darkness was broken by candlelight from inside a few homes. Most of the villagers had already gone to sleep but there were still some hardworking ones out and about.

The boy walked quietly and was careful to stay in the shadows. He arrived at his destination without any trouble and knocked on the door.

“Old Li! It’s me!” He called.

Some shuffling noises came from inside and the door creaked open.

“Oh, it’s you.” A voice said gruffly.

The door opened wider to reveal an old man with a frail build and wild white hair who was barely taller than the boy. He was getting along in years but still energetic. The inside of the shack was simply furnished and looked comfortable. The old man owned and operated it as one of the village stores. Through this business, he was able to survive despite his age.

“I see you’ve got some goods. Get in, close to the door.” Old Li said.

The old man led him to the table and then stared at him expectantly. “So? What have you got for me, Gray?”

The boy’s name was Gray. It was a simple but fitting name. Everything about him was unassuming and like any other underfed boy, everything except his full head of gray hair. The other kids and adults of the village all had black or brown hair. His hair was only for old people and yet here he was. The color was also unique, gray like iron instead of white. Thus, the name stuck and he had no choice about the matter.

Gray raised his sack and dumped the contents onto the table. Dirty black rocks of varying sizes tumbled out. Some were small like pebbles but some were as big as a fist. Under the candlelight, they shined ever so slightly.

The old man sucked in his breath as he stared at the pile of rocks. He looked at Gray, then at the rocks, then back at Gray again.

“Huh… how old are you really?” He asked, incredulous.

“Still eleven. Don’t be senile, I am starving!” Gray grumbled.

Old Li muttered something unintelligible and brought over a candle to study the rocks. They were all the same. The black metallic sheen meant that it was of high quality. This type of ore had high iron content and the valuable metal within was easy to extract. It was prized by everyone in the valley and could be sold for a good price.

The old man looked at Gray suspiciously. It should have been impossible for a child to produce such ore alone. Only the best mining gangs were able to produce high-quality ore and they guarded their spots ferociously.

“Is this just luck or can I expect more of these in the future?” Old Li asked.

“I just got lucky.” Gray lied.

“Brat, be careful not to reveal where you mine to anyone! Or else… they will take it from you.” Old Li warned.

The shopkeeper seemed to have come to his own conclusion but it wasn’t anything to worry about. Gray would never divulge his special abilities to anyone.

Old Li retrieved a scale and weighed each piece of iron ore. The total came out to be almost twenty kilograms and he recorded the amount in his ledger. He then calculated the amount to pay and also wrote that down.

“So… for normal ore, I would buy for one copper coin but these, I will buy it for two copper coins per kilogram. How’s that?”

“One? Wasn’t it higher last time?”

The old man shook his head. “The Road Gang managed to find a new iron mine. Prices have dropped. Sorry…”

Gray thought about it a moment. The price wasn’t as good as he had hoped but he had done business with Old Li for a while. The man wouldn’t cheat him just for a few coins, at least not too badly.

“Fine, I also want a new pickaxe. Can I get a one-fourth discount on that? And dinner.” He asked.

He still had to try for a bargain, especially when he had to count and conserve every copper coin he earned.

“Heh… one-tenth.” The old man said.

“One-tenth, dinner, and a sack of food to go.” Gray countered.

“Fine, deal.”

They shook hands. It was a peculiar sight between two people that were separated by several generations.

Old Li nodded, “Good. Sit, I’ll get you some food.”