“Are you ok? Hey! Hey, adventurer! Are you ok?” The words reached ringing ears; they were heated and pulsed with the courser’s racing heart. What the fuck was that? Siluria had heard of ghouls and other ghastly apparitions; she studied them for Wizard’s sake. But that was not your average spirit. That was something riddled with rage built up for thousands of years. Maybe it had something to do with the return of the Harvester. She shook her head, glasses rattling on her face. Obsidian eyes turned to the golden ones of Phoebe's; they refocused before nodding in response to her initial questioning. 

“Y-yeah. I'm alright. It didn't actually get me.” She spoke, catching her breath while she turned her head to check the top of her striped barrel. 

“Let's keep moving.” Pheobe gestured with her head towards a well-trodden path. Siluria exhaled, grateful to have such a well-respected guide with her. The two continued on with their quest, searching for elusive alchemical components. Siluria was never one to buy from an untrusted source; with what she needed, she had to be sure it was safe for her to use. Far too often than not, has she encountered her peers’ spells backfiring due to a less than ideal ingredient. A faint chuckle escaped her contrasted maw as a memory of a failed experiment crossed her mind. Plumes of black smoke and a smell so foul it lingered within their nostrils filled her friend’s chambers. It took the two a few moments to figure out what had happened; the gemstone dust used turned out to be something akin to fool’s gold. One thing led to another, and from then on, Siluria refused to use ingredients she didn't have a hand in gathering. 

Paying little mind, the madder equine bumped into a stationed Phoebe. “Oh, excuse me.” The other Courser hadn’t said anything, so Siluria thought nothing of her standing still; her eyes wandered off to the side of the trail, widening excitedly. A cooling Salamander lay dormantly. This was perfect! These creatures cost a shiny coin, a value so great Siluria cared not to fulfill. However, gathering her own, especially one that was about to pass on anyway, would save her so much. Just as she was about to go gather it, a sharp exhale of air from her companion quickly grabbed her attention. That's when she saw it—a squat spectral figure moaning towards them.

“The Forge? The Forge?”

Her blanched ears turned back in confusion. The Forge? There's no such thing, right? Phoebe was about to speak out, presumably to question the figure, but Siluria’s golem took it upon itself to whisk away the visage. It was just as tired as the Coursers of unexpected encounters. Siluria looked to Phoebe for answers as Phoebe looked back with confusion but shook her head as if to say, “I don’t have the answers you seek.” 

Siluria sighed; at least this one wasn't malevolent like the last. She turned her head back to where the Salamander was, hoping it was still there. To her dismay, it was not. Maybe she will be able to find another.