The air was thick and hot, the distant glow of molten rock illuminating the cavern’s jagged walls in a deep, fiery red. Terrence stood at the edge of the narrow pathway, his iridescent coat gleaming with sweat, as he surveyed the bubbling magma below. Toast, a few paces behind, watched with a cautious eye, his red dun coat blending into the dungeon’s ominous glow.

"I’ve seen worse," Terrence said, grinning as he tightened the strap of his sword. His voice was casual, almost dismissive, as if the rising tide of molten lava was just another obstacle in his latest daring adventure. "We can jump it. Two, maybe three strides, and we’re clear."

Toast narrowed his eyes. He admired Terrence’s boldness but wasn’t about to rush headlong into the lava pit. "Jumping might work, assuming the ground holds long enough," Toast replied. "But if it doesn’t, we’re cooked. Quite literally."

Terrence shot him a look over his shoulder, eyebrow raised in challenge. "You have a better idea?"

Toast glanced at the slowly rising magma, feeling the tremors beneath his hooves. This part of the dungeon was unstable, but that wasn't all. There was something in the air—an unsettling presence. The rumors of the Harvester surfaced in his mind, the infamous reaper said to appear under the blood-red glow of the Harvest Moon. It was the perfect night for it. The full moon’s light had bled down into the depths of the dungeon, casting eerie shadows on the walls.

“We’re not alone here,” Toast muttered, his eyes flicking toward the dark corridor they’d come from. “Something’s moving in the shadows.”

Terrence laughed loudly, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "You’re always worrying, Toast. It’s just the heat playing tricks on you."

But Toast knew better. The stories had warned of this—how the Harvester could stir the earth itself, calling forth destruction to claim the souls trapped in the dungeon. As if to confirm his fears, a deep, reverberating sound echoed through the chamber, and the magma surged forward, spilling over the rocky ledge and inching toward their hooves.

“We need to move. Now,” Toast said sharply, backing away as the ground under them began to tremble more violently.

Terrence hesitated, his bravado faltering, but before he could respond, the air grew unnaturally cold, a stark contrast to the lava’s blistering heat. Out of the shadows, a massive, spectral figure materialized—his form cloaked in tattered black robes, his eyes glowing with a sickly orange light. In his bony grasp, he held a scythe that gleamed with the cold shine of death itself.

"The Harvester…" Toast breathed, his voice low and tense.

The Harvester’s hollow voice echoed through the chamber, his words rasping like the wind through dead trees. "I offer you a choice, travelers. Leave now, and face the rising fires. Or stay and bargain with me for passage."

The lava was getting dangerously close now, and the heat was unbearable. Toast could feel the ground weakening under their hooves. If they ran, there was no guarantee they’d make it. But to stay and bargain with a figure like the Harvester? It was a gamble—a dangerous one.

Terrence’s red eyes flickered with determination. "We don’t have time for games," he growled, his bravado returning. "I say we jump and get out of here."

Toast shook his head, his mind racing. "No. If we jump, we’ll land in molten rock. But if we bargain… we might buy ourselves enough time."

Terrence glanced at him, clearly torn, but finally nodded. "Alright, Toast. You lead. I’ll follow."

Toast stepped forward, trying to keep his voice steady as he addressed the Harvester. "We’ll stay and bargain."

The Harvester’s skeletal grin widened. "Very well. Offer me a soul seed, and I shall give you what you need."

Toast knew what he had to do. Reaching into the pouch he carried, he pulled out a small, glowing seed—something he was lucky to find from one of his first adventurers into the dungeon that he had kept as a keepsake. He held it out to the Harvester, hoping it would be enough.

The Harvester’s long, bony fingers reached out, plucking the seed from Toast’s grasp. 

"You shall find your way across the flames," the Harvester intoned, seemingly satisfied. "But beware… should you fall, I will claim what is mine."

Toast didn’t hesitate. Turning to Terrence, he nodded. "Let’s go."

Together, they leaped toward the narrow ledge. The lava hissed and sputtered beneath them, but they moved swiftly, guided by the Harvester’s eerie gift. As they reached solid ground on the other side, Toast glanced back. The Harvester remained in the shadows, his glowing eyes fixed on them, watching. Toast could feel the weight of the bargain they had struck, but for now, they had escaped.

Terrence exhaled in relief, flashing Toast a grin. "Guess you were right after all."

Toast didn’t smile. He could still feel the Harvester’s cold gaze on them, the lingering threat of what he might claim in the future. But for now, they had survived.

And in the dungeon, survival was sometimes all that mattered.