"A muffled clanging sound can be heard beating against the walls of the Furnace. Do you recognize the sound of a forge? How much experience do you have with weapons?"

---

Since creation she had been told to stay away.

Never trek too closely to the shoreline, never stand too high upon the rocks, and take notice when the tadpoles and fish dart away from rippling waters. And above all else do not approach those born in the world above, no matter how gentle their voice or how curious their silver.

They're dangerous.

But warnings did little to quell the curiosity of bright minds and young spirits. If anything these words are what brought Fable to the water's edge, silver eyes wondering about the grey stallion who drank from the pond. From her hiding place beneath the blue she watched quietly; obeying like a good foal but fighting against her wonder. Once the other left only then would she carefully bring her gaze above the water, ears perked as she listened to the echo of steel on stone leaving the area.

That stallion had seemed tired; aged. She was the fastest of all the foals she knew. Surely if he was a danger then her dainty hooves and swift limbs could outrun the courser...

Right?

"Fable... Don't do it..." Came a quiet warning from someplace further down into the blue, and in response the ether dove back under the surface.

"I just want to see which way he's going," She spoke with a sparkle in her eye as a laugh escaped her throat, legs pushing her through the water as though she walked on air. "I've never seen the ones from above up close! I'm curious why they wear all those flat stones."

"It's not stones- it's armor. Swords," A warning came but it would fall on deaf ears.

"I'll follow for just a little while," The foal smiled before turning and making her way back towards the surface of the water, "Don't tell anyone else though... Tell them I am visiting the fishes in the dark spring!"

"Fable! I don't want to lie!" A more pleading tone.

"Then don't lie, omit!" With that, the ether broke the water's surface and her hooves found land. Thin legs on small hooves were unsteady for a few moments while water dripped off of her pearlescent coat of wonderful shine and infinite colors. Where something more mystical once stood now there appeared to be nothing more than a normal bay foal; the dungeon's magic wrapping Fable's true nature in a veil to hide her from the eyes of those not created by the dungeon's will.

Once she looked more like a natural horse, just an odd foal on spindly legs, the dungeon-born was off.

Swiftly she followed the receding sound of steel clinking against stone, the rhythmic thud of footfalls against dirt, and occasionally the sharp sound of metal slicing through overgrowth. Those from above ground were rude, Fable felt.

Why alter the dungeon's layout so crudely?

The dungeon was never anything but kind.

At least that's what Fable thought as it was the only experience in life she knew thus far.

But like a curious shadow she would imagine as she traveled, the foal continued to follow the grey courser; wonder causing her to miss that the longer she followed the hotter the dungeon's atmosphere became. What was once cool green slowly grew more humid as darkstone and soot-lined paths replaced slick cobble and vine-covered walls.

It wasn't until the grey courser's steely steps began to match the beat of a hammer against hot iron that Fable realized she had followed too far.

An impossible sound echoed throughout the illuminated cavern that seemed to stretch for ages. And an infinite bridge seemed to be the only safe passage from the dangers of magma and shining darkstone below.

Fable recognized these things from tales, stories.

She had followed the courser all the way to the Earthen Furnace.

On her first deep breath, she finally felt the heat beginning to restrict her throat. Like heavy jaws the thick air clamped down on her lungs; it was painful, she had only known life in the cool blue waters. And a life, as young as it was, that only knew the gentle peace of still waters was unprepared to face the heat of the furnace.

The pounding of some otherworldly hammer echoed in her ears, the heat clung to her like a second skin, and Fable found herself fumbling. She tried to breathe through her nose but instead of a full breath soot, smoke, and fire filled her senses.

The ether began to cough and in doing so she had been caught.

The grey courser turned his attention to her- ears perked as his pink eyes seemed confused by the sound. Then an array of emotions followed; first startled, then worried, then a shift to something softer- kinder. "What is a foal doing here in the furnace?" He spoke gently, approaching Fable with his head lowered, "Little one h-" The stallion tried to speak but the young ether was wary and turned on a heel.

Fable began to flee, she had been seen but she had not been caught.

Yet.

"Wait come back young one! The dungeon is dangerous!" The gray yelled out trying to get the foal to pause their fleeing.

Their concern seemed so real and their voice so gentle- was this really what monsters sounded like? The thought was fleeting in Fable's mind as she continued to run.

She needed to return to the waters.

She couldn't get caught.