Well, it's that time again, the day when a new administrator is supposed to arrive. The last six didn't manage to last a month each on account of the constant screaming matches I would have to engage them in. Of course, because they're all ancient fossils that graduated from a half-rate business academy some time about a century ago, they think that our productivity metrics are way too low and that we could be mining a lot more mithril if we just worked harder. With some, I somewhat manage to explain that we are down in an primeval, magical cave system practically aflutter with its magical energy pervading us all, and we've been on this for years now and have figured out that mining too hard makes the magical energies very, very angry. They still don't understand because the concept of not taking everything flies in the face of their ideology, and at that point we get into the profanity-laden screaming matches. With the others, I just skip straight to the profanity because they don't get it.

And whenever the working relationship inevitably breaks down, they return back to the central office in the capital and cry to the superiors, who write a letter veiled in corporate disdain and send someone else. But the most recent letter, from about a week ago, was different, and I think I pissed someone in middle management off. It was laden with the open cussing of someone that was completely done with my shit, so whoever's coming today must be something different, sent out of sheer spite. But given who they sent when they were actually trying, I suppose this could be terrible, or it could be great. Gods, does nobody tell the story of the adamantine dwarves anymore? Maybe it's because I hang around with too many miners on account of, y'know, being a miner that works in a mine, but everybody here has sweet memories of their mothers telling them about the ancient race of the dwarves that sought the magical adamantine, material said to be more magical and even stronger than mithril. They dug, and dug, and dug... until they opened up a portal to the seven hells themselves and unleashed a demonic apocalypse on the world that was only defeated by a stalwart hero and his adventuring party. The moral is as simple as can be: don't overdo it.

But I have no time for reminiscing about childhood, the new administrator should be just about here now, so I make my way up the caves, from my office to the entrance. Sure enough, when I step out of the main entrance, a carriage emblazoned with the familiar Silvergriff crest is just in the progress of arriving. But if I was expecting another one of these gruff moneygrubbers, I was mistaken. Instead, out steps a quite fresh-faced looking young man with an oddly cheerful look about him. In fact, the first thing he does after stepping off the carriage is stare up at the mountains containing the mine in awe. Curious, I step closer to him. "So, you the new administrator, then?" I ask.

That snaps him out of his staring, and after catching himself, he nods. "Ah, yes... I suppose. Silvergriff says I am, so that's what counts, right? You must be Tyral, right?" he asks in return, which surprises me quite a lot, and it seems he can tell from my confused expression. "Um, I wrote my thesis on the mythril cycles as described by Klingfall in the Mining The Kingdom essays, which cite original research by you, and so I knew I'd be meeting you here," he explains. Mythril cycles? That's a new phrase to me, and again, my quizzical look gives him reason to continue. "Um, mythril cycles, the work rhythm of mining mythril here, then giving the caves a rest, switching off different branches of the caves in an intricate pattern and such. You know, the thing you innovated here?"

"Oh, that! We just call that 'work' here. I didn't even know people had a term for that. So... you wrote a thesis on the stuff we do here? You study geology or something?" I ask him, interested in finding out more.

"Yes! Geology and engineering, followed by an internship at Silvergriff. My name's Eryon, by the way. Not really sure why I'm here to do an administrator's job, though..." he trails off a bit sheepishly. Well, I know that—folks back at the headquarters thought they'd show me to respect their terrible administrators by sending what they thought to be an incompetent intern, thinking I'd be angry at this turn of events. Joke's on them, it seems, this guy might just be my salvation. "Um, well, I guess the first thing I should know is what part of the cycle are we on?" he adds.

Well, the terminology will need some getting used to, but that's so far down the list of potential problems it doesn't even register. "We're gonna get ready for a trip down the caves pretty soon, actually. If you want, I can show you to the administrator's office," I offer, but to my surprise, he shakes his head.

"Actually... could I come along? I've read a lot about the complexes, but I want to see them for myself, you know?" he replies. That's new, but very welcome. Even if this guy looks like he could barely lift the pick—downright dainty, even—just the mere fact he's interested at all is such a breath of fresh air, so I give him a nod and lead him along into the caves. Thankfully, we fairly quickly worked out that the whole angry magical auras thing only seems to happen when we mine the mithril veins and working the rock is fine, so we've practically hewn out a living space on the upper levels with some surprising amenities. Thanks to a magma chamber quite deep down that we've been able to tap into, we've gotten together a few nice things thanks to the heat like a working boiler system for hot water, heating for cold nights, and we've also made some use of it for cooking. The real prize is the hot baths, though, and most quarters are equipped with a rather spacious bathtub.

As I give Eryon the tour, he's really impressed—seems that while there was a lot of writing about our work, not a lot of words were spent about our lives. And while the administrator's quarters are currently without hot water due to a temper tantrum by the last one and due to us not bothering to fix it, I, in a moment of levity, offered to share my tub with him if he wishes. Oh, the blush on his face was a sight to behold, but I did not expect him to accept. I suppose that will be something to deal with after this trip. For now, I meet up with a few of the boys, make the introductions, grab some equipment—including a pick for Eryon, which he insists upon—and head down to the vein scheduled for some mining today. On the way, I can't help but notice him sneaking a few looks at me and the boys, too. Looks like the new administrator might be dreaming of getting hands-on in more than one way... and I can't say I'm averse to crossing that bridge.