After a night’s rest, they rose like the dead, stiff and aching as though they’d been trampled by a horse twice their size. Every joint creaked, every muscle groaned. The previous day had been brutal — the scavengers had put up more of a fight than expected, it was unfortunate that Freidor’s reckless charge had left one unlucky horse mauled on the nose, sending its herd into a frenzy.

With heavy sighs, they kicked off the dust from their hooves, soreness still lingering in their bones, but their spirits bolstered by the loot they’d managed to gather. After counting and securing their spoils, they pressed on, the long, dim corridor stretching ahead like a never-ending tunnel into the abyss.

As they trudged forward, something caught their eye — a faint flicker of movement along the side of the corridor. A light coming from one of the walls. And there it was, an embroidered door. Barely noticeable, but unmistakably there. It looked so flimsy and light, like a little nudge could open it wide. It was unheard of in this dungeon, usually things are like strongholds.

Freidor moved forward “Guess we will have to go in.” Not a doubt in his tone. But there was more to it.

Beetle, meanwhile, felt all his bones scream, a rush of thoughts passing through ‘Maybe we don’t! Maybe we leave it as is. It doesn’t look too safe. Do we really want to risk it? We let it be. Please let it be.’ But unable to voice any of them out. He questioned as to why Freidor always wanted to jump in. He looked at Caeou’m hoping for a voice of reason. But he had a face that would turn to you and say ‘We can’t ignore it though.’ To Beetle’s demise of course.

He heard a grunting coming from Frosting’s side. He was just as tired. He looked like he hadn't slept a wink last night. To their further demise.  Beetle neighed and pawed at the ground. This is going to go so bad — he assured himself. Some assurance was needed in this situation, not matter its nature.

Onwards they entered the room. And what they arrived upon was crumbling remains of what was once a library. Beetle took notice of Freidor’s eyes, glittering with enthusiasm-

“Books,” Freidor said, his voice thick with excitement. He moved ahead to look at the shelves in greater detail, leaving the group behind.

“Oh it’s the old moldy blocky things.”

“You know what these are Frosting?” Beetle inquired, slightly surprised. It was never said outloud but he had assumed Frosting didn’t come from the surface. He always felt a little too in his climate.

“I used to eat them, but Caeou’m told me they were old pieces of history so I have stopped my ways.” Caeou’m shot a soft smile at Frosting.

“Books,” To Beetle they didn’t look very appetizing, or appealing really. He was confused as to why anyone would be interested in the mumbo jumbo senseless stuff inside. He tried looking back at Freidor only to have a book spanked at his face. And then in a matter of seconds before they could even react the books seem to have been imbued with a vengeful life purpose and wings of some sort because they started violently attacking them.