The cistern stretched on for ages, until Kaelwyn could no longer see the door they had come in through if he turned around. As far as the dungeons went, though, it was a lovely respite. Though Kael’s long ears still flicked and swiveled to watch for signs of an ambush, the peace in the cistern didn’t seem to be a trap. 

Maybe it was because of the pots, and the entrance they guarded. They had warned him, after all, that beyond the cistern was danger, but not specifically what. 

After a trek through the long open room in hoof-deep water, with Barberry following along at his flank, Kaelwyn found out. At last, another exit to the cistern came into view, a crumbling stone archway with a rusty iron door hanging open and off its hinges. 

The fact that nothing had come through this door to stalk the cistern surprised Kaelwyn at first, at least, until they got closer to the door. Heavy heat wafted out through the doorway, and the backside of the broken door was scorched and sooty. The furnace. Nothing must have come up here from the furnace because of the water lining the floor like a sort of guardian. 

Kaelwyn stopped in the warm water and looked back to Barberry. The slime looked back at him with blank white eyes, innocent and surprisingly kind. “Can you handle the furnace?” Kael asked him with concern. A slime was largely water, as Barberry had exemplified by sucking up the cistern water and growing with it. 

The slime merely blinked at him, then squelched forward, wobbling his way toward the open door. He paused there, then swiveled around and bounced at Kaelwyn, almost appearing…excited.

”Alright, we can try it,” Kaelwyn laughed, stepping up alongside Barberry, “How about you hop on my back, though? The stones are hot.” 

He expected to have to lie down to get Barberry on his back, but apparently not. The slime instead pooled around his front hooves, stretching and morphing until it could slide around the back of his neck and use that hold to pull the rest of its mass up, sitting over his back like the saddles of old. “That works,” Kaelwyn snorted, smiling over his shoulder at the little guy.

“That’s a neat trick.” 

Kaelwyn wouldn’t like to admit how he startled when a strange voice echoed out from the dark hallway before him, and he turned back around to see a courser stepping out of the shadows behind the broken door. The stallion was tall and lanky, with brindled flanks and clever eyes. “You looking to come to the furnace?” 

Kaelwyn flicked his ears, twisting them forward to regard the stranger. “I would like to try.” 

The stranger smiled, looking calm as anything. “It’s easier with a guide, especially the first time.” He turned around in the narrow corridor and glanced over his shoulder, giving a jerk of his head to summon Kaelwyn, “Luckily, you have one. Name’s Logue.” 

Kael cocked his head and smiled, then stepped forward, water sloshing off his fluffy hooves as he left the shallows of the cistern. “Kaelwyn.”