When traveling through the depths of the third level, Prayer hears something. Some rustling among the grass, some shadows that shouldn’t be there, a slight movement in the stale air of the moors. It is subtle, barely there. But the place is stranger than anything else in the dungeons and so Prayer’s senses are sharper than ever. 

It started right after it and Fetch crossed the first chamber of this level. The heavy wooden door closed behind them and they entered a smaller, different chamber, full of glass and lichen. It was then when Prayer first spotted that movement. And it is still following them, many chambers later. 

“We won’t lose it,” says Fetch, as they cross yet another heavy mist.

“But we should try,” Prayer answers. “Or at least try to make out the shape of this being.” 

“It won’t happen.” 

Prayer shoots a glance at Fetch. It is still having problems with telling when Fetch is stating opinions and when she is speaking the truth of the dungeons. And at that moment it isn’t any easier. Fetch looks ahead, focused on the path before her, not minding the strange movements they both have been catching with the corner of their eyes. 

And so they move ahead, chamber after chamber, accompanied by the dancing light of Myrrah. In all the travels this circumstances seems to be the most entertaining to the little wisp. It constantly tries to catch their follower, looking all over, flying high above to light the whole chambers, and running after the sudden movements. 

But it yields no effects. 

And so Prayer and Fetch keep traveling through the third level, unable to change this one problem. Thankfully they find many other problems to worry about, the constant company of something that doesn’t show up is one you can get used to.