Elara’s hooves clinked softly against the molten-red stone, the air thick with the acrid tang of sulfur and copper. The deeper they ventured into the Earthen Furnace, the hotter and more oppressive the atmosphere became, but she was used to this by now. A faint sheen of sweat darkened her dappled purple coat, but her bright, eager eyes betrayed no hint of discomfort—only curiosity. The scent of the place clung to her senses, as if pulling her toward something.

Crispin walked beside her, his tall frame steady and unbothered by the heat. His gray dunskin coat blended with the earthy tones around them, but his sharp red eyes swept over the path ahead, alert and watchful. He had been here before, countless times, and though this place held no mysteries for him, his presence was a comfort to Elara.

“I feel it too, you know,” Crispin said suddenly, his voice deep and resonant. “The familiarity. Like we’ve been walking in circles our whole lives.”

Elara smiled slightly. Crispin had a way of cutting through the silence with his dry wit, but there was always truth behind his words. She appreciated that about him. “Maybe we have,” she replied, pausing to scan the walls and ceiling, noting the intricate carvings barely visible in the dim, ember-like light.

The symbols here were unlike anything she had seen before. Her heart quickened at the thought of uncovering something new, something lost to time. This was why she had become an archaeologist—not for the adventure or the treasure, but for the knowledge. To understand the past, to piece together the forgotten civilization that had once thrived in the Buried Kingdom, was her driving passion. And here, deep in the Furnace, she felt as though she was on the brink of something significant.

They continued walking until they entered a massive chamber, its floor smooth and marbled with veins of red and black. Elara halted, her gaze immediately drawn to the strange markings in the center of the chamber. Painted in reddish-brown, a massive circle spread across the furnace floor, its lines forming a deliberate, ancient design. Three points were marked inside the circle, each with its own symbol. She moved closer, her eyes narrowing in concentration.

At first, none of the symbols made sense to her—they were foreign, enigmatic. But then her breath caught in her throat as her gaze fell on the symbol at the very center. The crude silhouette of a Courser’s head, unmistakable in its shape and simplicity.

“This… this is ancient,” she murmured, her voice a mixture of awe and uncertainty. “A Courser’s head. Why would it be here, in a place like this?”

Crispin stepped beside her, his ever-watchful eyes now fixed on the circle, using his body to subtly block Elara from stepping any closer to the center. He didn’t speak immediately, but Elara knew he had seen symbols like this before—he always had. His silence was more telling than anything he could say.

“These other symbols feels familiar, but I’ve never seen it in any records,” Elara continued, her mind racing. She lowered her head, trying to make sense of the other two symbols, but they remained alien.

Crispin’s deep voice broke through her thoughts. “There’s a reason this place was sealed off for so long. Whatever secrets it holds, they weren’t meant to be found easily.”

Elara nodded, her gaze lingering on the Courser’s head symbol. “But why a Courser? What role did we play here?”

The chamber felt heavy with unspoken answers, as if the very walls were holding their breath. Crispin shifted, his gaze hardening as he surveyed the perimeter of the room. “This whole area reeks of blood and iron. There’s more to this than ancient symbols,” he muttered.

She could sense Crispin’s unease, and though it rarely showed, his protective instincts never failed. But Elara wasn’t about to be deterred. She had spent her life chasing these fragments of history, and this—this was something vital. A piece of the puzzle that had haunted scholars and adventurers alike for centuries.

“I want to study this further,” she said, glancing at Crispin. “We need to record everything. Every detail.”

Crispin nodded slowly, his red eyes softening as they met hers. “Just be careful, Elara. Some things are best left where they lie.”

She smiled at his concern but didn’t take her eyes off the symbols. “I know, Crispin. But some things—like this—are worth the risk.”

For a moment, the two stood in silence, the weight of the chamber pressing in on them. Elara felt the pull of the past, the invisible threads of history wrapping around her, drawing her deeper into the mystery of the Earthen Furnace. Whatever secrets this chamber held, she would uncover them. And perhaps more.