"Unlike the levels above it, the floor of the Moor is spongy and wet. Your hooves sink down into it as you step – and come away red. How strange. What do you suppose is causing this pigment in some areas? It can’t possibly be blood… Right?"

---

Let's find out.

The vast battleground that blanketed the Moor was something historians could ponder about for a hundred lifetimes. Skeletal remains of both the familiar and otherworldly towered towards the sky; like infernal pyres that had been impossible to extinguish until time finally smothered both flame and soul. It was a sight that could cause even the bravest of coursers to shudder at the implications of this grand battle.

Kalim wondered if the great dungeoneer Crispin had similar thoughts when they first reached this dark battleground.

"You are thinking too much- thinking too slowly," Fetch spoke in a near whisper- the ether's voice interrupting Kalim's longer-winded thoughts. "If we cross the Moor we go now, otherwise... We stay on the great bridge and observe; nothing more."

At such a response the knight couldn't help but raise a brow.

He had known Fetch sometime now, but he had never seen the side of her that seemed so unsettled by the dungeon. She had been born here after all, so what made the Moor of Sleep so different? The bay also noticed the spectral hand that floated at her side- always with a bow and arrow at the ready. That had been a new discovery; an important thing to note.

She had never revealed the spectral limb before.

Not when the grand skeleton had nearly brought a hand down upon Kalim, trying to crush him beneath fractured shards.

Not when the great library, tomes lined with dagger teeth torn from their own pages chased adventurers away.

Not even when a great shadow, teeth bared and holding fast onto its last hope latched onto the living.

Only now did his companion and mentor bring this specter to her side. Was she only just now taking the dungeon seriously? Kalim could ponder the thought for ages. But no, for now Fetch agreed they could move. The bay wouldn't waste such a chance; though he did follow the ether's lead and make sure his blade and shield were both at the ready.

They descended from their watchtower and eventually found a path down from the grand bridge- hooves stepping carefully against brittle stairways. Kalim admitted, silently, for once it would be welcome to walk on dirt and grass rather than stone or cobble.

However, he was not prepared for reality.

What the bay thought would be the subtle give of grass and dirt underfoot felt... off. The unexpected squish beneath his hooves, not unlike the grounds of the wetlands, almost had him fall forward. And even worse; when he lifted his hoof a red color had seeped into his coat. His one white sock turned an impressive shade of maroon- he might have been transfixed by the sight if Fetch hadn't checked her shoulder against him.

"The grounds of the Moor are uneven, brace yourself," she spoke flatly, ears forward before turning away from the knight.

"You might have warned me sooner," Kalim responded with a huff, his next steps steadier. Though each red footfall brought the large courser more unease. It was as if whatever grand battle had happened had only concluded an eve ago; the blood of the lost refusing to soak into the ground and instead congealing just below the surface. Each pull away from the soggy ground seemed to grab at the bay knight.

He wondered if one wrong step might pull him under.

"Is the entire Moor like this...?" Kalim questioned, ears up as his eyes scanned the battlefield ahead, wondering if one could even reach its end.

"I've told you before-" The ether started but was quickly interrupted.

"Right, right- never easy answers with you," Kalim gave a huff before beginning to pick up the pace; he trusted Fetch would reel him back should something truly dangerous rear its head. He trusted the other courser that much but from here he would choose to lead- to discover.

Their vantage earlier had revealed a distraught history for which the kingdom had no records, no words. As the king's most trusted Kalim would press onward; he was prepared to bring back knowledge and tales, anything that might expand the kingdom's wisdom.

But first...

He wanted to find that courser husk who carried a human ghost upon its back.

He had a feeling there was history there.