"As you make your way across the Moor, you encounter a spectral Courser wandering aimlessly, its armor aged and torn. A second, human specter – or perhaps an extension of the same spirit – straddles the Courser’s back for some reason. They don’t seem to threaten you, but it’s unclear what would happen if they were to see you…"

---

Though unsettled by each red footfall, the knight lead the way.

With a weapon strapped to his side and a shield covering both shoulder and barrel, he felt he could hold more guarded stances; nothing would cause him to falter as long as he kept his greater senses near. Not only that but Fetch followed closely behind and that brought him some ease... despite the dungeon-born's ethereal limbs never once leaving an arrow unnotched. The bay understood that was his mentor's silent means of warning him to stay vigilant; stay cautious.

It was a thought he would hold close as they crossed the Moor in search of the spectral duo; a humanoid upon a courser's back. And though he was seeking the spirits something in his chest did tell him to make sure they did not see him.

Or, at the very least, he should not draw too closely...

...

Was this how it felt when the dungeon offered a warning?

Kalim snorted, shaking his head once he realized how deep in thought he had been.

"Don't think too hard on the dungeon's wills Kalim. Even those of us born here don't know those answers," Fetch seemingly read his mind, the ether picking up the stride to match Kalim's pace. Shoulder to shoulder they would walk; she would only fall behind to check for creeping shadows that reached too far beyond their boundaries.

"Right... I'll keep that in mind. Now let's look for that ghost we saw," The bay perked his ears forward, listening as he scanned the ground ahead of them. The extinguished pyres looked so much taller when one stood on the same plane; they were impossibly high. Almost like those who died had been reaching, desperately, for something beyond them.

"Are you sure chasing spirits is wise?" Fetch spoke up, their blue eyes observing Kalim's expression- she wondered what his answer would be.

Had he learned wisdom yet?

Or did curiosity still cloud his decisions?

"I... do not know, and your reaction makes me hesitant. But I can't play things safely if I want to find truths and come to know this dungeon even half as well as you," He spoke honestly, and something in that caused Fetch to pause.

A smirk climbed the ether's muzzle, and with the nudge of a shoulder and enthusiastic snort she began to trot forward. "We'll make a real dungeoneer of you yet."

With that the duo continued forward, eyes peeled for the spirit they had seen from the watchtower above. Kalim had only heard of the bond between human and courser in historian Casper's ramblings; two spirits who fought as one in glorious battle. Should one fall the other would be close behind- at the heels of their stricken ally they would meet their fate. Yet, somehow... humans were gone and coursers still carried on in life.

They thrived, even.

How had that happened...?

If their fates had truly been so intertwined-

Kalim was forced to bring both his thoughts and steps to a pause. After allowing himself to distract from time they were finally drawing close to where the spectral beings had been spotted. He could hear Fetch's spectral hand drawing back a bowstring; a wise decision.

Up ahead was the spirit.

The ethereal pair stood like a tower; the human spirit's head pivoting as though it searched for someone among the Moor's battlegrounds. Kalim was tempted to draw closer- after all the ancient courser below the saddle would be kind to their modern kin... right? But the bay had been forced to stop in his tracks; something was wrong. Wildly, dangerously wrong.

The bay knight had expected some of the courser spirit's gear to accompany a rider, some of the choices were strange and held little logic in Kalim's mind. The ghostly steed chewed against ethereal steel in their mouth, with a sharp pull of long reins the human spirit forced the courser to turn their head elsewhere. And if the ghostly courser refused then pointed steel met their barrel. They had not been allowed to lead and that sight confused Kalim; why not let the legs beneath the sword and shield run freely? Surely the courser spirit knew battlegrounds.

For being partners it seemed they stood on different levels.

Kalim snorted in confusion, unintended.

At the sound the human half of the spirit whipped its head around and drew a spectral blade; heels kicked the courser beneath them into a weary trot. It seemed to be looking for them and, in that instant, the knight knew he might have drawn too close to a dangerous situation.

But he trusted Fetch and their drawn bow, he trusted his abilities, and, foolishly, he trusted that the spectral courser wouldn't allow a humanoid upon their back the chance to harm one of their own.

...

Right?