After what felt like an eternity of navigating tight labyrinthine tunnels without incident, they emerged into a small, cool chamber. The air here was fresher, a faint breeze hinting that the surface was closer.

“I think we're safe,” Shion whispered, leaning against the wall, her legs shaking.

“Indeed,” Fetch replied, as unbothered as ever, flicking their tail. “I sense them no longer. They return to their slumber.” The pale-coated horse calmly preened at their coat, as though they hadn't all just been moments away from death. Their unnervingly calm demeanor contrasted sharply with the exhaustion that weighed on the rest of the group.

"Good," Logue panted, his coat glossy with sweat. "We were lucky. Too close for comfort." His voice was low, barely more than a rumble, the weariness evident in his tone.

Terrence, shaking out his mane and shaking off the fear that had clearly gripped him earlier, regained his usual posture. “You owe me for that toss,” he muttered toward Shion, his voice laced with mock irritation but softened by relief.

Shion exhaled a laugh, her breath coming easier now that the immediate danger had passed. The surge of relief that flooded through her brought a momentary lightness to her mind. They were alive. Maybe the plan hadn’t gone perfectly, but they had survived. Still, the urgency of their situation remained. 

“Let’s keep moving,” Shion said, her voice steadier now. “We’re not out yet.”

As they ventured deeper, the tunnels opened into another chamber, but this one was... peculiar. The walls here were smooth, a far cry from the jagged rock that had hemmed them in for hours. The chamber itself felt deliberate, almost like someone had shaped it for a purpose long ago, a purpose now lost to time.

“What do you think this place is?” Shion asked, a bit of excitement and wonder building up in her tone which hadn't been present for some time now due to their grim circumstances. She always enjoyed coming across unusual artifacts, especially things left behind by the creatures known as humans.

Logue’s eyes swept the room again, his eyes narrowed as he took in the unfamiliar surroundings. “It’s odd. Feels different, doesn’t it? Like it doesn’t belong.”

“That,” Fetch murmured, gesturing with their head towards the far side of the chamber, “might have some answers.”

Shion followed Fetch’s gaze and spotted what looked like an old, dust-caked workbench nestled in the corner. Her hoofsteps echoed lightly against the stone as she approached it, her curiosity piqued. The bench was covered in debris—rusted tools, bits of twisted metal, and forgotten artifacts, all seemingly untouched for ages. The space looked out of place, like the remnants of an old workshop, though it was unclear what it had once been used for.

“Strange,” Logue muttered, standing at Shion’s side. His dark eyes swept over the objects with interest. “Who would be down here making things? And why leave it all behind?”

Shion pawed at the bench, brushing off layers of grime with the side of her hoof. The touch sent a small cloud into the air, making her scrunch her nose. “Maybe there’s something useful here,” she mused aloud, nudging a particularly old-looking device, but it was too decayed to make sense of.

Logue and Fetch joined her in sifting through the various objects, their movements slow and careful. But as Shion turned her attention to the edge of the table, a sense of unease began to creep in.

Terrence, pacing behind them with a restless flick of his tail, snorted in irritation. “We don’t have time for this,” he muttered, his voice sharp. “It’s just junk.”

Shion sighed and nodded, her heart sinking a little as the last bits of clutter offered no insight into their situation. "He's right," she admitted. "Let's just—"

Before she could finish, a deep, metallic click reverberated through the chamber.

“What was that?” Terrence asked sharply, his ears swiveling in alarm as he took an instinctive step closer to the rest of the group.

With a sickening lurch, the entire chamber groaned, stone grinding against stone. The floor beneath them trembled, and the walls, which had seemed so solid, began to unnaturally twist. The faint passage they’d just emerged from was swallowed by the stone, vanishing entirely. As the rumbling came to an end, the group found that in its place, four new doorways yawned open, leading into dark, dusty corridors that reeked of stale air and decay.

Logue straightened up first, eyes wide. "What just happened?"

Terrence cursed under his breath, tail flicking in agitation. “You had to touch something, didn’t you?” He glared at Fetch, his building annoyance barely held in check now.

Regaining her sense of orientation, Shion followed Terrence's gaze and saw it then: Fetch’s cloak had snagged on an old, dust-encrusted lever hidden in the shadows. As the trio had turned to leave, the cloak had tugged the lever, triggering the mechanism.

“Doesn’t matter,” Fetch said coolly, tugging their cloak free from the lever and moving to inspect the newly revealed exits. “What’s done is done.”

“What’s done is done," Shion repeated, eyeing Terrence meaningfully.

His jaw clenched, but the stallion backed down in favor of inspecting their new surroundings. The four new exits loomed ominously, each tunnel identical in its staleness and darkness. The sudden shift in the room had completely disoriented them; it was impossible to tell which direction led back to familiar territory.

Logue, ever the focused problem-solver, frowned, his sharp eyes scanning the new openings. “We can’t afford to guess. If we take the wrong one, we could end up even deeper in the dungeon.”

Fetch, still calm, gave a slow nod. “The dungeon likes to play its tricks, yes. But there’s always a way out if you pay attention.”

"I think you like to play your tricks," Terrence growled under his breath.

Ignoring the bickering, Shion tried to steady her breathing. She closed her eyes, focusing inward. There was something here—something pulling at her. An invisible thread, something almost familiar, calling from deep within the stone, leading her towards one of the passageways.

She opened her eyes slowly and turned toward the second doorway. It was marked by faint scratches on the stone, almost imperceptible unless one looked closely.

“This one,” Shion said quietly, her voice soft but certain.

Logue frowned, his eyes narrowing as he examined the scratched stone. “What makes you think that?”

Shion flicked her ears, a wave of embarrassment washing over her at the lack of explanation she could offer the others. Her eyes shifted awkwardly, searching for words that simply didn’t exist. “It’s just… something I can’t explain," she mumbled, her voice quieter than she intended. “A feeling.”

Terrence groaned dramatically, rolling his eyes with a dismissive flick of his tail. "Oh great, a 'feeling.' Because that's worked so well."

Fetch nodded approvingly, their eyes sparkling. "Feelings have gotten us this far, haven’t they?"

Logue, always the diplomat, gave a small, exaggerated bow to inject some humor into the situation, his mane ruffling slightly as he bent forward. “Lead the way then, Shion. We trust your instincts.”

Shion gave a small, unsure nod, standing at the entrance of the cavernous opening that lay before them. Her lantern illuminated the dark tunnel beyond, but only just enough to show the barest hint of the unknown waiting for them ahead. She took a slow, deep breath, steadying herself before closing her eyes.

Once more, she let herself feel. The cold stone beneath her hooves, the faint hum of energy in the air, and beneath it all—like a soft current under the surface—a pull. It wasn’t physical, but it tugged at her, insistent and quiet, like a whisper just out of reach.

‘This way,’ it seemed to beckon, an invisible hand drawing her deeper into the dark.

The pull was stronger, more clear and urgent than before. Her pulse quickened, but she pushed down the anxiety bubbling in her chest. The others were counting on her. She had to trust herself.

She opened her eyes and squared her shoulders. “Alright,” she said more firmly. “Let's go”

Without waiting for a response, she stepped forward, leading the group into the abyss. The tunnel walls loomed around them, casting long shadows as their shadows stretched and flickered in the dim light. Each step echoed faintly, the soft clip of her hooves mingling with the sound of their quiet breathing. Shion’s ears remained pricked, alert to the sounds around her, but her focus remained on that pull—that instinct.

“Just a little farther. Just… don’t think about the walls closing in,” she mumbled to self-soothe, her voice too soft for the others to hear.

She couldn’t help but wonder what her sister, Mira, would think of this latest adventure. Even her more mundane trips to the dungeon had the mare clutching her metaphorical pearls.

"You're going to tell me you survived a dungeon based on a hunch?" Mira would scold, but her eyes would shine with that same admiration they always did. And, of course, Shion would play it off, shrugging and pretending it hadn’t been as terrifying as it was.

She could almost picture it: Mira leaning forward, eyes wide as Shion recounted the darkness of the dungeon, the strange magic pulling her deeper, the cave lurker's claws scraping against stone, the mysterious workbench, and the duel with the ghost. The way the light from the runes flickered like ancient stars, guiding them through the unknown, and how every breath had felt like it was on borrowed time.

Shion smiled faintly to herself as she pressed on, knowing that whatever awaited them in the depths, whether danger or discovery, it would be a tale worth telling.