There are many otherworlders in this world, from all walks of life. Engineers, doctors, and politicians. They each carried their skills from life and were transitioning those skills to life here. Unfortunately, the Demon King does not tolerate otherworldly technology. Any attempts to advance or change anything based on other world experience were punishable by death. It was okay here, in this little town, as the Demon King’s armies had not reached here yet. But they march every day, and they are successful. I need to get stronger soon, so that I can stop him from killing us all.

“Elder Chastings is coming a few days.” Fel said, reading her book by the warm stove. It had been burning for several nights now, thanks to Markus’s new influx of coal.

“Elder Chastings?” Markus said, poking at the burning coals with a small metal rod. “Who’s that again?” The name was vaguely familiar to him.

“He’s the Great Lord in charge of the entire coal production of the Empire!” Fel gasped, nearly throwing her book at her ignorant brother.

“A Great Lord? Here, the middle of nowhere?” Markus turned to her.

“I read the letter from him to Master Krell. He’s inspecting the productivity of each of his mines.” Fel’s eyes shot to their coal stash, which was overflowing.

“I’ve only been skimming from them. It’s not enough to dent production.” Markus said, sensing her thoughts.

“But, big brother.” She smiled, a smile Markus knew meant she was concerned. “We have over seventy pieces now. That’s more than enough for us to escape. Don’t you think?”

Markus sighed.

“More is always better Fel.”

“There’s such a thing as too much. And pushing it.” She pouted, crawling over to Markus, placing her head down on his lap.

“We’ll leave by the end of this week.” Markus said, turning back towards the flames, running his fingers through Fel’s snowy hair.

“Promise?’ She said.

Markus nodded.

“What’d you want to do in the Eastern Hearth?”

“I wanna eat fresh bread. The Masters only give us the hard biscuits. I wanna try fish too. It isn’t far from the Frozen Seas, so every once in a while they come back with a catch.” Fel smiled.

She confused Markus. How could someone mature enough to handle merchant and legal documents also act like a little child?

“I promise you I’ll get you that fish.” He smiled, almost laughing.

“Hey!” She sat up, slapping him on the arm. “Don’t laugh. My book says the fish are kinda fatty, whatever that means, but have good salty after taste.”

Markus went to work that next day a little brighter than he’s always been. He led from the front of the lines and hammered away with an enthusiasm that would have normally earned him a beating. And yet the Masters did nothing. They just watched him, never acknowledging his happy mood. He picked and smashed, placing the coal into his sack. It was a strange thing. How can an ugly rock, so black and devoid of life, give so much of it? Markus didn’t know how coal burnt. He just knew it did. And it burnt well.

And of course, it was strange that it was also the source of his misery. How could something that give life, make him hate his own so much? But these days would soon be behind him. Soon, he would leave the camp with Fel, and they would make themselves a new life in the Eastern Hearth. Away from the Masters he had known since youth.

The Masters he stole from. Markus held back a satisfied smile as he marched back towards the settlement at the end of the day. He plowed through the snow, pride flaming in his chest. He had stolen from them and they had not known. Several nights of sneaking in and taking from them, and yet they did nothing.

It helped that Melony was always there, Master’s Krell’s personal servant. She helped Markus into and out of the building, allowing him to take upwards of seventy pieces from their storage in the basement.

He had beaten the Masters. Though they ruled over him, he had taken from them. That was a power in of itself. A power of rebellion.

He stopped as he entered the camp. Master Krell was nowhere to be found. Normally he would have been standing there, rationing off the bits to the workers, and yet he was not.

Instead, strung up on a metal pole was the mangled body of a girl. She had been beaten to the point of being unrecognizable, her face nothing but a bloody bruised mess. Blood still trinkled down from the body, showing that she was freshly killed.

Panic set into Markus. He rushed forward, checking the body as Masters Roy and Thomas watched, holding back laughter. He stopped under it, looking up at her. Her hair was black. Melony.

“A shame boy.” Master Thomas smiled, walking up to him, twirling his metal cane. “I was rather found of the young in. Too bad Master Krell found a new one.” He grinned with yellow teeth.

Markus shot past him, headed towards his tin home. She had to be safe, wouldn’t she? She’s too valuable for Master Krell to hurt. She’s too important for him to lose. She wouldn’t beat her too much, as she need her hands to write.

And yet the hovel was ransacked. It was torn apart, the metal strewn about, the torn pages of several books scattered everywhere. The coal was gone of course. The Masters would of found it.

Markus fell to his knees, rage bellowing inside him as the orange sun set below the horizon. They took everything again. And this time, they took the one thing he was living for. He slung his pickaxe over his shoulder, and stormed off in the direction of the Cottage.