Dungeon diving was always a risk. All the same, it was also an adjustment all the way around, especially for new adventurers. Those often had the worst too. Still attached to how the surface world worked, how it was supposed to work according to them. And therefore they often fought with changing their worldview when in the dungeon nothing acted like it. Mostly. Gravity was still gravity; up was up and down was down. But there were hellhounds, ghosts, long dead remnants of a bygone age. Magic and monsters and everything in between.

So Reaper felt that he should have expected something like this. This, being that Twix abruptly froze when their last hoof hit the floor of the old library. The exact moment the buckskin stepped into the old library they staggered. Meeting Thunderstepper’s worried eyes, Reaper let his worries show. Without a word, they pushed their flanks against Twix’s to keep them upright.

“Are you alright?” Reaper asked. “Twix?”

No answer. Just their breathing picking up speed. Panicking in the dungeon was not rare. But not expected either- that was something that would be happening in the Mire, or what was called a ‘boss’ chamber. Maybe it was when you found a giant pitcher plant for the first time or you fought a pack of hellhounds. It did not happen in a library- or at least, it was not supposed to happen in one. And it was even stranger that it was Twix. Their parents were archeologists and the Courser had told them a few anecdotes of short trips they made into the dungeon before, like a foal with curious parents like theirs would. So far, Reaper’s favorites were: ‘This is just like the stone circle,’ or ‘this is not how this rune is supposed to be displayed.’

And then Twix looked up at a fallen shelf with eyes the size of dinner plates and Reaper felt his heart skip a beat. While he could not explain just exactly why, he knew it did not feel right. He took a step back from the panicking Courser on instinct. Realizing he had his crossbow half raised, he put his hoof down. Something here was wrong.

“Helissent?” He asked, the panic low in his voice. She nodded and took over. A few lessons on nursing made her far more competent in this situation. He did not wish to accidentally overstep his boundaries either. While in the dungeon he wasn’t Roule- old habits were hard to break.

“They’re alive, just not responding.” Helissent said. She was still bent over Twix, checking their eyes and ears. “I have no idea what this is. Why didn’t they tell us this could happen?”

“Don’t blame them!” Reaper snapped. He winced at his tone. “My apologies. But I think Twix didn’t know it could happen either. If they did, they would have warned us,”

“Reaper’s got a point, Helissent. They don’t seem the type.” Thunderstepper offered. “Not the kind of Courser to hold stuff like that back. Not while they’re adventuring with us. They’re experienced enough to know what they can and cannot do in a dungeon, at the very least.”

“I’m going to look for what happened to them.” Reaper offered. Thunderstepper gave him a nod, and the gray stallion walked closer to Twix and Helissent to take the rear. “Call us if you find something, alright?”

“Will do.” Thunderstepper’s hoof landed on Reaper’s shoulder. He turned to his cousin and frowned at the grave look on his face. “Stay safe. We don’t know what caused Twix to stagger.”

With his ears pressed flat against his head, Reaper turned to the library. It was a nice place, if a bit dusty and wrecked. But one step in had caused Twix to faint. And whatever caused his friend to faint set his mane on edge. Reaper acted before he could think. He was going to shoot his friend with a crossbow just because they felt off.

“At least I stopped myself from firing it.” The black and white Courser whispered to himself. He shook his head again. The how and why he wanted to still eluded him. “Don’t think about it. Focus on the books.”

Slowly approaching the shelf Twix had stared at, he moved the lantern higher to read the spines. One book shone in the lantern’s light. A simple sleight of hoof revealed what the tome in his hoof was about. The book’s title was a how-to on ritualistic magic. On necromantic magic.

‘The Tome of Eternal Shadows. It’s a mage’s tome.’ As he lifted it higher the tome began to glow an eerie green. Whispers bloomed in the back of his head and suddenly Reaper knew what this tome was about. ‘It’s a tome one can use to talk to the dead.’ And in quick succession he realized this was not just any library. The more he looked the more tomes he found. They were everywhere and not in a good kind of way. “This was once a mage’s library! Did Twix-”

“It’s the magic.” A weak fourth voice answered him. Twix looked at Reaper with wide eyes, still not quite seeing him. “I’m not good with ambient magic.”

“Then let’s get out of here and into the next room.” Reaper said. He tucked the book into his saddle bag and turned away from the shelf. Suddenly, the books next to him shuffled. Stirred. He pivoted when something behind him fell down with a thump. A book laid on the floor. As he watched, it moved. The books dropped from the shelves, one by one, until they were raining down in a cascade heading towards him.

“Oh. A mage’s library where the books defend themselves. Wonderful.” He turned and galloped back to his party. They were helping Twix back upon their hooves. At his shout, weapons were drawn. “Books! Run!”