Share some of those?

Two traveling friends followed a valley carved through the dry hills of an arid wasteland. One of them had eyes like glistening ice, and was known as The Moth, though he was distinctly human. The other had eyes like coal, and was not yet known by a name.

"Do you ever worry about going the wrong way?" The Moth asked.

"Not really."

"I could worry about it."

"Do you?"

"Not yet, but I could get there."

"Why?"

"Because you only get a sliver of the whole thing. What if it's not the best piece?"

"I suppose, but take this ration bar I have in my hand for example. It has peanuts in it. You like peanuts, right?"

"Yes."

"Okay, so say I split this, and I hand you the piece with more peanuts. That's the better piece, right?"

"I'd say so."

"But now let's say I am starving, and you're full, who will enjoy their piece more?"

"I see what you're getting at."

"I don't think anyone is hungrier than I am."

"But I'm not you."

They walked in silence for a while then, accompanied only by the sound of their heels scraping against the hard dusty path. At some point the valley replied to the echo of their slapping heels with an intermittent metallic ring. "What an interesting sound," the one with dark eyes said. The two friends followed the noise off the path and up the side of the valley, where they were eventually met by a rectangular hole outlined with wooden planks.

"A mine?" Moth asked.

Ting!

"Guess so."

Ting!

The dark eyed friend tested the ladder which clung to the inside of the hole lazily, before beginning his descent. Moth quickly followed. Soon the dark enveloped them and they were descending in near complete darkness, aside from The Moth's glowing eyes.

Ting!

As they reached the bottom, they could start to see a small amount of light tucked behind the corner where a corridor met the shaft they were in. "I'm not fond of enclosed spaces," Moth said as he disembarked the ladder behind his friend.

"I suppose you don't think about being within your own body often, then."

"Oh. I do."

"Then, this must feel spacious."

"You always know just what to say," the Moth said dryly.

"I don't know what to say to that."

Ting!

The noise was almost excruciating now, but neither of them covered their ears. The two friends followed the small lamps that lined the inner corridor, around the corner and down the long but narrow mine. They walked through the shaft for many minutes before they spotted the source of the sound.

Ting!

"He’s older than any miner I've ever seen," The Moth said quietly. The miner in question had his back turned as he worked at the hard rock before him.

Ting!

"I'm surprised he can even pick up that pickaxe."

Ting!

"I don't think I could swing it that hard, myself."

Ting!

"You couldn't," the friend with eyes like night walked forward, and gently placed a hand on the old man's shoulder, alerting him to their presence. He turned around slowly, and without surprise, leaning on his tool like a cane. It had a rusty discoloration on its head.

"Oh, hello," the old man spoke cheerfully, looking past the man in front of him, speaking instead to Moth, "how I would like eyes like those, I would save the time keeping these lamps alive.

The dark eyed friend stepped back in front of him, "hello, are you not surprised to see us here?”

"I'm too old for surprise, young man. What is surprising about people? People are all around. The crystal eyes of your friend are much more rare, however. If I could only find something like those in this rock," he scratched his head, "your eyes also have their own odd quality to them, they remind me more of these mineshafts. For that, they make me uneasy, though I mean no offense."

"None taken, this is common."

"Why do I feel as if this attribute has been cultivated rather than simply endured? Hmm, well then, do the two of you have business of some sort with an old man?"

"Not particularly."

"Then what brings you here?"

"We're travelers," Moth chimed in, a hint of excitement dancing on his tongue, undetected by the old man.

"Come, then," the miner said, as he placed down his pickaxe and walked past them to an offshoot along the corridor that they had missed on their way in. The two followed. The side shaft was even more narrow than the previous one, and clouded in darkness.

"No lamps could be affixed to the walls here, sadly. There would be no space for me to squeeze past had there been," the old miner explained. The Moth grimaced as they all pushed their way through.

Eventually, it opened into what could only be described as a cave carved out of the rock, and lamp light returned. On the far side was a small wooden table and some benches, whereas closer by was a small gas stove and some personal effects littered around: books, clothes and tools chief among them.

"I'll heat up some coffee," the old man said, turning on the stove, "have a seat, the two of you must be tired."

"We weren't the ones swinging that axe around," the black eyed friend said, taking a seat on the bench anyway. The Moth followed suit.

"Oh that? My body no longer feels anything with regard to the mining. It's like breathing to me. Sometimes I fall asleep and wake up a few feet from where I dozed off."

"How long have you been doing this?"

"Sixty or so years."

The cave brightened ever so slightly with the widening of The Moth's eyes, "that long? You must have found a lot of precious metal in that time."

The old man placed a tin cup in front of each of the friends and poured a small amount of instant coffee in them before taking a seat at the head of the table, "not a single gram," he said with a grin stretched across his face. The reflection of a flame from the nearest lamp danced in his eyes.

The two of them sat in shocked silence. The Moth nervously picked up the cup of coffee, but his friend slowly guided Moth's hand back down before he could take a sip, their eyes meeting for a moment. The old man continued, "but I see it sometimes, a glimmer of gold in the rock, or emerald, or sapphire. I've seen every precious stone you've ever heard of in the rock out there. It slithers away as I chip it down, but one day I'll catch up, I'm sure of it."

"That sounds like some kind of mirage," the one with dark eyes said.

"It makes no difference to me."

"How so?"

"You must know, you're travelers after all. You don't travel to get somewhere, you travel to be going somewhere. The meaning of this life is in the wanting."

"Is that so?" The nameless friend wondered.

"It must be lonely down here mining. Do you visit home often?" The Moth asked.

"No. I won't go home empty handed, I haven't seen my village since I began those years ago."

"Do you not have a family?"

"Oh I do, and they're wonderful. I have a wife and a daughter," the old man's eyes lit up, "my daughter even came to visit me in the mine. Sadly she didn't initially understand what the two of you must."

"What do you mean?" the friend with eyes of shadow prodded. The steam from their untouched coffee floating in the air between the three of them.

"She tried to convince me to come home. She told me they didn't care if I had succeeded in finding the gold. She obviously didn't understand what you and I both know. That it isn't about the gold."

"What did you tell her?" he continued the line of questioning.

"I tried to show her. I asked her to stay and mine with me, then we could live together in that sacred feeling of hope."

"And she stayed?"

"Oh, yes she stayed. We live down here together now."

"I see. Where is she?"

"She's elsewhere, I'm surprised you didn't cross paths on your way in."

"Perhaps on the way out. What's her name? How old is she?"

"Her name's Elise, and she's twelve. She really is the best daughter an old miner like me could ask for, staying down here in this dusty old mine with her old man."

The trio sat in silence for a while then as the miner drank his coffee, oblivious to the fact that his guests ignored theirs. They simply ate the rations they brought in with them, the one with dark eyes picking off peanuts and handing them to The Moth. Eventually the friend with eyes of coal stood, "well, it would be impolite of us to interrupt your work any longer. We'll be heading out now."

"Yes, yes of course, please travel safely," the old man said absentmindedly, as if he had forgotten they were there.

The two friends made their way out of the mine then, The Moth scraped his elbows on the rough rock walls as he broke into a slow jog to keep up with his friend’s quick steps. Eventually they met the entryway, but before stepping on the ladder, the one with black eyes peered deep into a corner shrouded by darkness, "goodbye Elise," he waved.

The Moth stepped closer to see some pieces of a small child's skeleton pushed to the side of the cavern, the skull decorated with a large hole, greatly exaggerating what was presumably a normal eye socket at one point, "oh," was all he could say before they both climbed out and away.

As they walked from the hole, The Moth spoke, "You saw on the way in didn’t you?”

:Yes, but I didn't know”

“Why do you think he did it?"

"Loneliness perhaps, maybe delusion."

"Do you think he was right?"

"To kill her?"

"No, about the point of life."

"Oh, the wanting? I don't know. Maybe the point is to overcome it."

"What would you do?"

"If what?"

"If someone tried to stop you from traveling, tried to stop us from continuing our journey."

"What are you getting at?"

"Would you kill them? If you had to, I mean."

"You rarely have to."

"That's not what I asked."

As they walked back down into the valley, silence surrounded them for a while before the distant sound of metal hitting rock began once again.

Ting!

"Yes. I would," the man with eyes the colour of hopelessness eventually answered.

Ting!