Twin Creeks

The locomotive rolled to an easy stop at the station. The platform wasn’t raised to catch the feet of the passengers, rather it sunk into the ground. Arthur made a dramatic leap from the passenger car followed by a deep bow. He noted that his grandfather failed to smile. He stepped away from the train to watch it travel on up the valley to Hornrunner, a popular tourist spot. He followed his grandfather across the platform and over the creek—one of the creeks that made up Twin Creeks, the name of the train stop. The mining encampment up the mountain stood out as the least bleak feature of the area. It was a two day hike to it. Arthur’s grandfather explained that all the miners had left and the silver veins had run dry, now it was only him looking after the mine.
 After two days Arthur and his grandfather arrived at the mining encampment. It was even more bleak up close, completely devoid of colour. A thick fog had set in and Arthur could no longer see the valley below. Around the site were several baskets full of various things: silver, quartz, flowers, fish, cured meat… He had never seen raw silver before, it was shinier than he realized. A white streak of moonlight stuck in between the abyss of rock. He thought he heard it call out to him. He reached for the lump of stone. His grandfather struck his hand faster than he could react and then explained the rules to Arthur that he needed to follow while he was here: don’t enter the mines after dark, don’t leave junk ore in the offering baskets, don’t take anything from the offering baskets, and don’t remove the wooden cross adorning the door of the cabin.
 Three days later, while in the mines, Arthur heard a voice coming from somewhere in the mines. He thought it was his grandfather’s but he had left shortly to begin preparing lunch. He put down his pick and made his way slowly deeper in the mine. He wasn’t far before the voice he heard turned into two, then three, and then four. A hand grabbed him from behind and dragged him away. In an open area of the tunnel he could finally see who had grabbed him, it was his grandfather. He explained that the zwerg were mischievous creatures that liked to lure miners deep into the mine where their victim was never seen again. For the rest of the week Arthur heard faint whisperings from the zwerg. He would notice his tools misplaced, his kerosene lamp empty, and faint scratch marks outside the cabin on the side he slept.
 On his second week at the mine, as Arthur was heading up to the surface he noticed a lode of rock by his feet. At first glance he thought it was full of silver but under the light of the surface he realized it was just pyrite. He tossed it over his shoulder and thought nothing more of it. That night there was a strong wind moving through the mountain, shaking the house to its foundation as it swept through. His grandfather got up and rushed outside, calling for Arthur to follow him, and began securing the offering baskets before they could be blown away. One basket tipped over and the contents spilled out. Arthur ran over to the basket and began chucking the items back into the it but he couldn’t see in the dark whether he was grabbing the right things or tossing in random junk ore. His grandfather came over and helped him secure the basket.
 In the morning Arthur and his grandfather awoke to find the offering baskets smashed and their contents littering the ground. His grandfather told him that they must have accidentally put some junk ore in the basket that tipped over last night during the wind storm. Arthur wasn’t sure but he thought his grandfather turned a slight shade whiter. Investigating the mines they found that their tools were broken and their kerosene lamps smashed to pieces. Arthur’s grandfather retrieved new tools from a storage shed that he kept some ways off from the mine. That day, Arthur and his grandfather worked twice as hard to recoup the loss of silver from the night before. Any excess silver they had saved from before had to be offered to the zwerg. Afraid for Arthur’s sake, his grandfather sent up from the mine early and had him gather flowers and fish from the nearby creek.
 That night the wind storm returned, accompanied by his sister the rain. Worried about the offering baskets, Arthur’s grandfather left the cabin to check on them, warning Arthur not to leave the cabin. The minutes went by and Arthur’s knee wouldn’t stop shaking—his grandfather was gone for far too long. He opened the cabin door and shouted for his grandfather but didn’t hear anything. He called again and this time he heard his grandfather call back asking for him to come help him with a basket. Arthur rushed off in the direction of the voice, leaving the door open. He wandered around in the dark, unable to find his grandfather despite calling out to him several times. He decided to go to the mine and grab one of the spare kerosene lamps that were close to the entrance. He was part way there when his grandfather pulled him away and asked him what he was doing out of the cabin. Arthur explained that he came out here because his grandfather had called for him. This time Arthur was sure that his grandfather turned several shades whiter. His grandfather then dragged him back to the cabin, or what was left of it. The redecoration effort by the zwerg was about as organized as Arthur’s mind at that moment.
 Arthur’s grandfather grabbed the cross that still stuck to the door and dragged Arthur to the storage shed. There they gathered whatever supplies they could carry and headed down the valley to the Twin Creeks train station. If they hiked without rest then they could reach it by the morning. But Arthur’s grandfather was old and needed to rest. He instructed Arthur how to prepare a barrier in the ground that should protect them from the zwerg as they rested. It worked as well as it could but it did not stop the zwerg from lurking just beyond the shadows of the night. Every once in a while Arthur thought he saw one run by them out of the corner of his eye. Arthur’s grandfather started a fire using the kerosene from one of the lamps they took with them. For a while it worked and the zwerg didn’t come closer, but as the flame began to die they became emboldened and began to encroach on them. His grandfather had to constantly redraw the symbols comprising their barrier. Finally, out of desperation, his grandfather threw whatever spare material he had onto the flame, including the wooden cross, causing the flame to burn brighter.
 It was nearly morning and the bottom of the valley was finally in sight. Exhausted from hiking all night, Arthur’s grandfather requested they stop and rest one last time. Arthur hurried to draw the barrier in the ground but his grandfather stopped him, they were far enough away now that the zwerg would no longer bother them. They arrived in time to catch a train out of there but Arthur’s grandfather insisted that he had to stay. He assured Arthur that he would do what he can to appease the zwerg and not to worry about him. The mountains and the mine were his home after all; besides, someone had to look after Twin Creeks and the mine. With a wry smile his grandfather waved goodbye to Arthur as the train departed from the station.