Lazlo’s hooves moved silently against the stone as he ascended what he thought was an ancient step pyramid. Each rise was steep, the cool air thick with mystery. Around him, the remnants of ancient carvings whispered of a forgotten age—half-buried symbols and crumbled statues.

He was alone, as always. The other Coursers were out on their adventures, but Lazlo preferred these quiet places, where the weight of time pressed down on the world, and the stones seemed to hum with memory.

As Lazlo climbed higher, the stone beneath him suddenly trembled. A deep rumble echoed from below, shaking the air and making the ancient structure groan underfoot. Lazlo froze, his translucent form flickering in surprise.

"LITTLE COURSER," a voice boomed out, so loud it vibrated the very stone Lazlo stood on. The rumble of it echoed in his bones—or what remained of them.

Lazlo’s eyes widened as he looked down and realized he wasn’t on steps at all. The platform he stood on was shaped like a knee, smooth and ancient. Above him, what he had thought was a rocky cliff shifted, revealing a colossal face etched into the stone, its features weathered but unmistakably alive. The face looked down on him with a kind, almost amused smile.

"I—I'm sorry," Lazlo stammered, though his voice was little more than a whisper compared to the booming presence before him. "I didn't know..."

The stone giant’s eyes, glowing faintly with a golden light, softened. "You have come far, little one," it rumbled, its voice resonating through the rock. "But where is your knight?"

Lazlo blinked, confused. "My knight?" he echoed, glancing around as if the answer might be hidden among the ruins. He had no knight. Since his death, he has wandered alone, a specter in the shadow of a world he no longer belonged to.

The giant’s eyes watched him patiently, as though waiting for a more thoughtful response.

"I... I don't have a knight," Lazlo admitted, his voice barely carrying against the ancient stones. "I’m on my own now."

For a long moment, the giant said nothing, the smile fading into something more contemplative. The stone beneath Lazlo remained steady, but the air felt heavy with meaning, as if the very mountain were weighing his answer.

"Every Courser has a knight," the giant finally spoke, its voice softer now, almost wistful. "You are not alone, even if you believe yourself to be. Knights leave their marks, their legacies, whether in life or in memory."

Lazlo looked down, the weight of the giant's words sinking into him. Memories of the old days drifted back—faint images of friends, of adventure, and of loyalty. Perhaps, in some way, those ties remained, invisible threads binding him to the world he had left behind.

The giant’s face, etched in rock, seemed to soften even more, the lines of its features catching the light. "Find your knight, little Courser," it said gently. "Whether they walk the earth or remain in your heart. Only then will you know where your journey truly leads."

As the words faded, the trembling beneath Lazlo ceased, the stone once again silent and still. The face of the giant remained, but its eyes closed slowly, as if returning to slumber.

Lazlo stood there for a long while, looking out over the vast landscape below. For the first time in years, he felt a flicker of something deep inside—a reminder of who he once was, and who he might still be.

With a quiet resolve, Lazlo turned and continued his climb, not entirely sure what he sought, but knowing, for the first time in ages, that he wasn’t alone.