Kida and Everard made their way carefully through the Moor of Sleep, a desolate, fog-laden expanse that seemed to hum with an eerie, almost sentient silence. Kida's coat gleamed faintly, her mane and tail catching the sparse light that broke through the oppressive clouds above. Everard, his sturdy green form moving steadily at her side, exuded an air of calm that contrasted sharply with the unsettling surroundings. His curly coat gave him an almost ancient appearance, fitting for a traveler who seemed to carry centuries of wisdom.

Ahead of them, the outline of a structure emerged from the fog, a partially collapsed tower leaning precariously to one side. Its jagged silhouette was outlined against the gray sky, and the sight of it sent a shiver through Kida’s spine.

“Is it safe?” she asked, her voice low, almost hesitant.

Everard’s deep voice rumbled in response. “Safe is a luxury we left behind at the edge of this moor. But it is climbable. And we need answers.”

The base of the tower was surrounded by rubble and overgrown with thorny brambles, but they found a narrow path winding upward. Inside, the air was thick with dust and the smell of mildew. A spiraling staircase carved from stone led upward, its steps cracked and crumbling in places. The walls bore faint, charred markings, as if the tower had been licked by fire long ago.

Kida’s ears flicked nervously as her hooves touched the first step. “Are you sure about this?”

Everard glanced at her, his expression steady. “If we don’t climb, we’ll never know what happened here. What waits beyond.”

That was enough to push Kida forward, though her muscles remained tense as she ascended. The staircase seemed to go on forever, spiraling higher and higher, the steps becoming more treacherous with each turn. Gaping holes in the walls allowed the cold wind to whistle through, carrying with it faint, haunting echoes.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they reached the parapet. The open expanse of the tower’s top was cracked and uneven, the stones blackened as though scorched by an ancient blaze. Kida stepped cautiously toward the edge, and what she saw stole the breath from her lungs.

Before them stretched a landscape of utter devastation. As far as the eye could see, the ground was littered with the remains of a great battle. Thousands upon thousands of skeletons lay scattered across the blackened earth, their bones twisted in frozen echoes of violence. Some were human, their broken swords and shields still clutched in skeletal hands. Others were Coursers, their once-majestic forms reduced to bleached bones and shattered skulls. The remains of the castle’s courtyard sprawled below, its stone walls crumbled and overgrown with dark, thorny vines.

Kida took a step back, her heart pounding. She had seen death before, but nothing on this scale. It was overwhelming—a massacre frozen in time, a graveyard that seemed to stretch into eternity. She swallowed hard, her voice trembling as she spoke.

“What… what happened here?”

Everard joined her at the edge, his gaze heavy as he surveyed the scene. “A great battle,” he said simply. “A war that consumed everything it touched. Men and Coursers alike fought and died here, and for what? Some cause they believed worth this destruction. But now, nothing remains but bones and ruins.”

Kida’s ears pinned back, her tail swishing nervously. “It’s horrible. All of this… for nothing.”

Everard turned to her, his expression softening. “It’s easy to see it that way. But battles like these, terrible as they are, hold lessons. They remind us of the cost of war, the fragility of life. And sometimes, they remind us of what’s worth protecting.”

Kida’s gaze remained fixed on the field of bones, her heart heavy. “It doesn’t feel like there’s anything worth protecting here. Just death and ruin.”

Everard placed a comforting hoof on the crumbling stone beside her, his presence a steady anchor. “Not here, perhaps. But beyond this place? There is still life. Still beauty. And as long as we live, we carry the memory of places like this, so we don’t make the same mistakes.”

Kida looked at him, her expression torn between sorrow and a faint glimmer of hope. “Do you really believe that? That we can learn from this?”

Everard nodded, his green mane rippling in the wind. “I do. Because if we don’t, then all of this truly is for nothing. But if we remember, if we honor the lives lost here by striving for something better, then perhaps there’s still meaning to be found.”

Kida let his words sink in, the weight of them settling over her like a heavy blanket. She looked out over the desolation once more, her heart aching for the lives lost, the stories that would never be told. But as she stood there, with Everard’s calm presence beside her, she felt a spark of determination begin to kindle within her.

“Let’s keep moving,” she said finally, her voice steadier than before. “We have to see what’s beyond this.”

Everard gave her a small, approving nod. “That’s the spirit.”

Together, they turned from the parapet, descending the perilous staircase with careful steps. The horrors of the battlefield lingered in Kida’s mind, but so did Everard’s words. She didn’t know what lay ahead in the Moor of Sleep, but she knew one thing: she would carry the memory of this place with her, not as a burden, but as a reminder. A reminder that even in the face of ruin, there was always the possibility of something better.