The soft ambient glow of Asshai's flames caressed the sides of the cavern as the trio of courser delvers carried on. The dapple grey stallion trudged ahead, the light of the fire elemental highlighting the determination in his eyes. He was the sole heir to the Raymere empire, the last survivor of a dynasty that lasted generations. He had a duty to rebuild, to lead with his blood backing his claim. His owed it to his ascendants to uphold their legacy. 

"Which way is it?!" Blackfyre snorted, tossing his head towards the mercenary, Fetch. 

"Which way... which way to the heart? Which way to Galatea? Which way is it!? It is everywhere! It is here!" the silver horse sang, nearly dancing in her footsteps. Fetch had a habit of parroting his words back to him, but the masked stallion quickly caught on that her hooves never lead her astray. In result, he tolerated her nonsense, despite her incessant need for songs. The masked stallion snorted, rolling his eyes.

Morning seemed to have taken to her anyways. The rose colored mare was his squire, gleaning onto him when he had first delved in the world beneath. She had been born into the darkness, with her only companion being the fire elemental that now lit their way. She was young, reckless, but ambitious in wanting to be apart of something larger than herself. When he told her of his blood, their history, his own personal plight? He saw her eyes alight with determination, and she requested to be his squire, to learn all she could from the courser princeling. She had even adopted his sigil, but insisted that their proud dragon match her rose colored coat. Blackfyre had tolerated it, the mare had a kind heart and he appreciated her companionship, though he would never dare utter that aloud, 'fore a certain filly's squeal of delight.

Without warning, a wash of cold careened upwards, the flames of Asshai shivering in response. Blackfyre's eyes widened, ears pinned as he threw his head downward. A fissure started to amass beneath him, the unrelenting maw of the floor beneath threatening to swallow the trio in one fell action. His hooves shook and his body froze, his cold blood refusing to garner a response from his limbs. 

Why can't I move?!?! What sort of cowardice has become me?!

The jaws of the world beneath continued to expand, the small fissure now forming a massive smile. Blackfyre couldn't see the others, couldn't hear any noises but his own heartbeat screaming in his ears, the only sensation that succumbed to his racing mind was pure fear. 

A careening blur of pink rammed into him, shoving him over the maw of the expanding abyss. Morning and Blackfyre tumbled into and over each other, their limbs twisting into a knot of mass and muscle as they landed safely away from the pitfall. 

"Which way is it, blood of the dragon? We are here! Galatea is here!" Fetch gleefully trilled, joy dancing in her eyes. The silver horse pranced down a hallway of cobblestone and moss, her hooves aiding in her song. The masked stallion glanced to the rose mare, breathing heavily in his exhaust. A silent thanks. Steadying themselves with an ardor, they continued after the siren's symphony.