The Tale of the Tenth Miner

And how we hoped not to die underground

Recap: Our narrator is a young maiden, unable to say her own name and cursed to wander the fairy woods until the spell on her is broken. She is followed by a talking fox (also cursed), and they are trying to find a way to break their spells as they cross from the North to the Southlands.

I hadn’t really thought about what it would be like to be stuck underground.

When the Soothsayer told Fox and I about the tunnels that would take us back across the Void to the Southlands, it had sounded rather simple.

But when we arrived at the mouth of the Deep Underground, we realized that we might be in trouble.

Collected at the tunnel entrance, there were people of all kinds: gnomes, trolls, a giant or two, wayfaring men and women, a host of animals, and even a few wood elves, a kind of folk I had never seen before. I didn’t understand why they were all milling about, apparently conversing, instead of entering the tunnel.

I stopped a friendly-looking gnome and asked, “Sir, what are all these folks doing?”

“You don’t know?” he said. “They are all looking for guides. You can’t make it to the Southlands without one. The tunnels are like a labyrinth; without an experienced guide, you will surely get lost and never again see the sun.”

Alarmed, I inquired, “Well, how do we find an experienced guide?”

“Many claim to know the way,” said the gnome. “If I were you, I would be listening for whomever knows the true version of the Tale of the Tenth Miner.”

“And what tale might that be?” asked Fox.

“Not so long ago, this was an impassable way, completely blocked by stone,” said the gnome. “Then the rock sprites came and dug hundreds of ways through the stone, revealing many treasures, from coal to gold.”

“Rock sprites?” said Fox. “Since when are there rock sprites?”

“The Spirit of the Rock, they say,” the gnome continued. “They must have come, for all the tunnels were dug, and many entered to explore them, including ten miners of great renown. They sought for gold, but they met with an Evil Wind that struck them all with blindness. They stumbled around in the passages, starving and desperate, until they met a lone rock sprite. They cried out for help. The rock sprite had mercy on them and restored their sight. They immediately went back to searching for gold. But the Tenth Miner returned to the rock sprite to thank him.

“The rock sprite gave the Tenth Miner directions to the one real tunnel that would lead him back above ground. He took that path and survived, but the other nine were lost in their search for gold. Since then, the Tenth Miner has spread his story of the path to the other side. But others have come along claiming that they know the way, or that there is no single right way. So test their stories and beware, lest the plight of the other nine miners befalls you.”

We thanked the gnome and began searching the mass of people for a guide.

We started talking to the wayfarers, other gnomes, and even questioned a giant. A small crowd formed around us as we asked questions.

Three people said they wanted to be our guide: a cheerful, wayfaring woman; a strong, confident wood elf; and a stout, gruff-looking man.

The woman told us, “What the gnome said to you is true. All the rock sprites came down from heaven and dug these tunnels. Therefore, there is no wrong way to go; you must only persist in the way that you choose. The ten miners chose the ways they wanted, and they were happy. Whichever way you feel that you want to go, that is the right way. I will help you decide which way is best for you.”

The wood elf told us, “The story of the miners is just a myth. But through a special revelation from the rock sprites, the right path has been revealed to me alone. If you follow me, you are not to question my methods or speak to anyone else. Doubting is a sign of weakness, and it is forbidden among my followers. Your thoughts do not matter, because you do not know the great and secret way. This exalted path is only for those who consign themselves fully to its mystery.”

The stout man told us, “There is only one rock sprite, and one path that will bring you to the other side alive. The rock sprite carved a tunnel, then many evil nymphs came and tried to copy him, hoping to confuse travelers and send them to their deaths — that was the fate of the nine who did not listen to the rock sprite, even though he cured them of blindness. The way of the rock sprite is narrow and difficult. Other paths look easier, but they lead to certain destruction. It is not a secret way; the rock sprite told many others who came into the tunnels, not just the Tenth Miner. You can examine it fully for yourselves and turn back if you wish. It is available to everyone, but only a few choose to take it.”

Fox and I puzzled over which guide to choose. This is when I began to understand what it might mean to be stuck underground until my death, never again to see the sun. I felt a great weight upon my soul.

Suddenly, I remembered something.

Our gnome friend from the Great Woods had helped us out of this same dilemma in the nearly impassable forest. He was trustworthy; his instructions had led us safely out of the Woods. Before we left, he had given us a folded piece of parchment, saying, “Read this when you are ready to cross back over the Void to return to your own land.”

I had completely forgotten about it until this moment.

I dug around in my pack and unearthed the piece of parchment. It read:

Follow the guide who says there is only ONE rock sprite. He is the Tenth Miner.

I looked at the stout, gruff-looking man. “You are the Tenth Miner!” I exclaimed. “We want you to take us through the Deep Underground.”

The stout man cracked a smile. “I am he; you have chosen well. I will bring you through the rock sprite’s passage unharmed. Call me Leon.”

We waited to see who else might come with us. Many people crowded around the wayfaring woman and the strong wood elf. When they went on their way, only one person remained — a young wood elf, the littlest of all his kindred.

“I am Terek,” said the wood elf. “I will come with you, Leon. What might I call you, my lady? Sir fox?”

“You can call me Avelina of the Underground,” I said. “And this is the Duke of the Wilder-Lands.”

“Prepare yourselves, my friends,” said Leon as we followed him toward the mouth of the tunnel labyrinth. “One never knows what one might meet in the depths of the world.”

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