Motes of ancient decay swirled in the dim light, the dungeon air thick with dust as Castalla, Logue, Fetch and Terrence ventured deeper into the forgotten bowels of the earth. Terrence had been regaling Logue with another story of his adventures, the other mercenary listening rather patiently. Castalla was heading up their small brigade, ever focused and intent on delving deeper, deeper, deeper. Fetch was happy to flit between all three of them, weaving their words in the lyrical way that only they knew how.

The group stumbled upon a vast chamber, its walls lined with the crumbling remains of what must have once been a grand library. Collapsed shelves leaned drunkenly against one another, their wood aged, brittle and splintered, the tomes they held long having surrendered to the relentless wheel of time. Far above them, the ceiling towered, marked in fading colours and crumbling paint, etched with runes and stars. It might have been breath-taking once, a gilded rendering of the night sky, but it had long since succumbed to the desolation that sunk the former Kingdom into the ground.

Castalla halted, lips parted, a small smile pulling at her mouth as she surveyed the gutted bones of the library with mild awe.

Fetch, always drawn to the strange and unexplained, darted forward eagerly, silver eyes wide with curiosity. She moved like a wraith, barely making a sound as she approached the nearest pile of books. "Words and whispers, secrets and spells," they murmured, their voice a sing-song echo in the stillness of the ancient library. "What do you hide?"

Terrence chuckled under his breath, moving to stand next to Castalla as his scarlet gaze surveyed the chamber for any sign of danger. "Careful, Fetch," he called out, his grin unmistakable in his voice. "Wouldn't want those dusty old books to bite you."

Suddenly the calm seemed to lift, an unease trickling into the chamber.

"Something's wrong," Castalla hissed, lowering her neck and narrowing her gaze as she glanced around the room. "We should..."

But it was too late; no sooner had the words left her lips, the library erupted into chaos.

The books, once still and lifeless, began to stir with a frenzy that defied nature. They flew from their crumbling perches, pages flapping like the wings of some unholy bird, voices rising in a cacophony of indiscernible words.

"They scream," Fetch whispered, more to herself than the other Coursers. "They scream what we cannot know."

Terrence was quick to react, suddenly bearing the steely focus of a seasoned fighter as he stepped in front of Fetch. "Looks like the books have a little more life in them than we thought."

Logue planted his hooves firmed, muscles coiled and ready as he swatted at a book that flew too close to his knee.

"Find some cover!" Castalla called out over the low din as she backed up to an overhanging archway, head tucked tightly against her neck as the books continued to hound them, diving from all directions. She shouldered Logue, pressing him to move back with her as Terrence stayed with Fetch.

"There must be some kind of source, or something they're protecting," Terrence called out, bucking at a flurry of tomes that swooped in behind him.