<dd2 - wolfrem>

     “How far do we have to go?”

     Esper turned, facing Wolfrem with an annoying look and seemingly staring right at his eyes. It always made him a little uneasy how she always seemed to know exactly where each feature of his was, and he wasn’t sure if he’d ever grow fully accustomed to it. She let out a sigh before returning her attention to the satchels at her hooves, sniffing through them all.

     “As far as we need to, Wolfrem,” she replied. Frustration laced her soft voice as she nudged aside a few of the leather sacks, their contents nearly empty. A crow fluttered down beside her, squawking over and over as it nosed through the satchels, eager to see if their contents had anything of desire to it. Esper let out a huff of annoyance, nosing at the pesky bird anytime she felt it fly close enough to be in reach.

     “Divym, leave her be,” he finished his sentence with an exasperated sigh. Ever since he’d decided to bring home the crow, it had been nothing but a nuisance. All it cared about was anything shiny, which had been precisely why he’d kept it, but it acted similar to a working dog - incessantly bored and bothersome when it wasn’t doing what it loved. He hadn’t been out exploring much since Lethia had returned home - there had been too much going on. Everyone had been eager to hear what all she had seen and done on her journey, supplies were running low, and as grateful as he was to get a break from how sociable everyone had become, this definitely was not his favorite reason to be leaving home.

     Esper had come to him the night before in a bit of a panic. Some of my herbs are dangerously low, she’d said. He understood the importance, of course, but herbology still didn’t really appeal to him. Still, he’d sworn to himself to help anytime she asked, even if it meant roaming around looking at plants for a few hours. 

     “Are you nearly ready, then? I have room if you need to bring more satchels.” His offer was sincere, even if it didn’t sound like it. Something in him seemed to block any sense of sincerity from entering his voice most of the time he spoke, and her noticing had made him uncomfortably aware of it. He’d grown quite fond of the little blind mare, and the last thing he wanted was for her to feel as if he didn’t enjoy her company anymore.

     “We can get going,” she replied, the leather and metal jingling as she began walking away from their home. “Just keep your crow out of my hair.”

     He let out an amused snort, calling to the crow once more as they set off.

     “No promises!” he called after her, rolling his eyes as the crow nestled down atop his head, his scraggly forelock providing utter comfort for the bird.

     —

     Galatea.

     It was all they’d heard, echoing throughout the caverns. He’d noticed it a few times, being spoken by every spirit he’d encountered since the Harvester had arrived. He still had no idea what it meant, but he knew he wasn’t the only one hearing it while exploring. Esper’s ears flicked back and forth each time the whisper followed them through the caverns, and he let out a quiet sigh of relief in knowing she was still hearing it too. Others in the group had mentioned it after their travels, always as if someone had been right in their ear whispering it, or leaving the lips of anything odd they encountered. 

     The sudden arrival of all kinds of spirits and odd entities had left him uneasy. He had grown quite used to the oddities that inhabited the caverns, but these were new, and restless. Every time he left the home, they were impossible to avoid. Stories had confirmed his suspicion that they followed the Harvester, their souls held captive by him all these years. 

     Galatea.

     He could’ve sworn he felt a hot breath against his ear accompanying the whisper, and a shiver ran down his spine. 

     “Esper,” he began, his nervousness impossible to hide.

     “Esper. Esper. Esper.” The crow echoed Wolfrem’s words, calling to the blind mare as vacantly as her eyes always seemed.

     “Divym, please. Esper - how much further? What do you still need?” he continued, his gaze locked on the ground beneath him as he watched his steps, careful to avoid tripping on any loose stones. The moss and overgrowth were impeccable at hiding nooks, crannies, and little rocks that had a habit of sending even the most skilled and nimble Courser off balance. A chill seemed to rush through the cavern halls, and he lifted his eyes, suddenly realizing he wasn’t very sure of where they were. 

     It felt like they’d been walking for hours, and nothing around him looked familiar. To be fair, most of the cavern all looked the same - stone walls, stone floors, moss coating everything in a blanket and flora flourishing at every possible spot it could take over. 

     “I just want to figure out where this goes - there’s a few herbs I haven’t found yet, and Lethia said they’re only said to grow further and further into the cavern.” Her voice sounded as if she were distracted from the conversation, and understandably so. Nothing seemed to give her tunnel vision like a new plant did, and he knew there was no convincing her to start heading back yet.

     Just a little further, then. He continued leading her along, the pesky crow hopping between the backs of the two horses as it nosed through their satchels, seeking out anything besides the herbs that filled them. He almost felt bad - he understood the crow’s interests, since they shared the same desire, but he simply hadn’t had the time to let him do what he does best. 

     He rolled his eyes, stomping a back hoof down with his next step to jostle the crow into relaxing. And just up ahead, something caught his eye. The cavern hall seemed to open up, and something metal drew his attention in further. Glinting in the dim light, it definitely wasn’t an usual sight given the history of the Dungeons, but his curiosity was still itching to know more.

     “Hey - there’s something up here,” he murmured, giving a slight pause before continuing towards it. As he approached, the expanse of a room - a camp? - appeared before him. Everything looked ancient, and it had to be, given how far into the cavern they were. Rusted iron armor littered the camp, with a similarly-aged cookery in the center of the abandoned camp. Dust had settled atop nearly all of it, and it was the more void of flora than any other part of the cavern he’d seen. He stepped further into the camp with hesitation, not noticing that Esper had stayed put at the entrance. She’d always been much more hesitant of chambers like these, not wanting to take much of a risk considering her lack of sight.

     Dusted old cobwebs littered the entrance, and he couldn’t blame her for not wanting to walk through them more than she had to. He knew she could smell how much dust was settled around her, and that to her, that meant whatever was ahead was old and full of too much mystery and uncertainty for her liking.

     Galatea.

     A shriek erupted from the little blind mare as she leapt away from where the whisper had come from, a soft thud echoing into the room as she stumbled into the wall of the entrance, dust falling all atop her. Wolfrem’s head turned as quickly as the noise came, his eyes widening at what was before him. The spirit of a Courser lingered next to Esper, seemingly drenched and gargling as it struggled to speak out the word once more.

     Ga..la..tea

     Esper was frozen, fear paralyzing her at the thought of what could be next to her. And within a split second, the spirit was gone. Wolfrem shook his head as if it would clear his mind of what just happened and let out a sigh of relief when it was still gone, ushering Esper to follow him and stay close. He turned, glancing over the camp once more before he spotted something - Galatea carved into one side of the walls. An uneasy feeling crept up inside him as he turned towards the entrance, making his way towards it.

     “Let’s go. Something is off about this place.”

     —

     Their journey back home seemed to go by much quicker than the journey out, uneasiness perhaps making time pass faster - or pushing them to walk much quicker. Nonetheless, they hurried home, rushing inside to find any of the others. 

     “Here - we still need to take these off,” Esper reminded him, nipping at one of the satchels to get him to stop for a moment. She untied the bags from him, sniffing around at each one to make sure of its contents before taking them to her room. He followed, the mindless task surprisingly lowering his heart rate just a little. 

     “Come here,” he muttered, approaching her to undo her satchels as well. He placed them where she asked, after confirming what was inside each one, of course, and turned his attention back to the home, his eyes scanning around to see who was here - and who was more perfect than Lethia, the bookworm. 

     The partially-spotted mare lay by the fire, nose buried in a book and he guessed she’d been here reading all day, given the pile of many more books and journals next to her. He turned his head to Esper, letting out a soft nicker before walking across the open room to lay by Lethia, eager to find out if she might know what they’d come across today.

     “Lethia?” He kept his voice light, not wanting to spook her as she clearly hadn’t heard them approach. Only a light jump accompanied her as she let out a surprised “Oh!” and flushed, embarrassed to have been so easily surprised.

     “Wolfrem, Esper - what’s with you two? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She commented, giving a soft smile. He snorted at the irony of the comment, emphasized as he lowered himself to the ground.

     “Yeah, wouldn’t you think,” he began, a soft sigh escaping him as he prepared to continue. “Lethia - have you ever heard of ‘Galatea?’” 

     She thought for a moment, humming to herself for only a moment until it clicked, and excitement lit up her face.

     “As a matter of fact, I have,” she turned her head, scanning through the books in the pile next to her. “I brought these back with me and I remember seeing the word a few times when I skimmed through them for anything new or interesting - these two in particular.” She pulled out two books, both leatherbound but clearly very different in age. The older one was dark, nearly black from time and dirt, and much thicker than the second, which looked more like a journal of sorts, very tattered and worn.

     She set down the older book first, flipping through the pages until finding what she was looking for. The pages were stained, yellowing from age and dust flew up in the air as she turned through each one.

     “It’s a book on mythology, from what I’ve gathered. There’s nothing on the cover, of course, but everything in it seems to be descriptions, lore, and stories on different gods and goddesses - I can’t really tell more specifics though. Um… Here, Galatea, yes. She was considered the goddess of calm seas.”

     Something about Lethia’s demeanor always seemed to change when she was reading or talking about something she’d learned. She was much more focused and her intrigue was impossible to miss.

     “This first story here, it says that there once was a cyclops - I haven’t quite figured out what that is yet - named Polyphemus, who was in love with Galatea. Like, in love. But, she denied all of his advances for a Sicilian guy - I don’t really know what that means either - named Akis. It says that after some time, Polyphemus was so heartbroken and angry by Galatea’s rejection that he killed Akis, crushing him under a boulder.

     When Galatea found out, she was stricken with grief. Apparently, she confronted Polyphemus and turned him into a stream. Some crazy power if you ask me, but who knows.” She muttered to herself as she skimmed another page, seeming to forget about the two Coursers next to her who were waiting to hear more.

     “And? Do you think it could be real?” Wolfrem pressed, lacking the patience for her absentmindedness. She lifted her gaze to him once more, flushed with embarrassment. He’d suspected she had begun to develop some sort of crush on him, given how consistently nervous and embarrassed she seemed to get anytime he spoke to her, but he wasn’t sure if he was very eager to find out.

     “Right - sorry. Um, y’know I don’t really know? I did see the name mentioned again in this journal though,” she continued, pulling the tattered leather bound book towards her and beginning to flip through the pages. Similar to the first book, the pages were yellowed once more, though much more stained, like it’d been drenched in water long ago.

     “Why do you want to know, anyways?”

     He sighed, glancing over to Esper for confirmation before returning his gaze to the spotted mare. Esper was busy staring off into the fire, if you could even really call it that considering she couldn’t actually see it.

     “We were out getting herbs, and Esper wanted to go further than usual, just to see what we could find. We ended up finding this old camp, like old old, and that word was carved into the wall - and, a spirit appeared there. A Courser spirit. It kept whispering that same word, and we’ve been hearing it all throughout the caverns recently.” His words were rushed, and he barely even remembered to breathe throughout. Lethia’s eyes were wide as she glanced between him and Esper, who looked like she just found out about the spirit.

     “Strange… I hadn’t noticed, but I haven’t really gone out since I’ve been home. I was up on the surface, you know,” she returned her attention to the journal, determination crossing her face as she scanned over the pages, a smile forming as she seemed to find what she was looking for.

     “Here - right here. This journal belonged to a human, and I actually didn’t find this one myself - I traded for it, so I have no idea where it came from. But here, this sounds like it fits.

     They write about how the Harvester has come to town, and spirits are roaming the land and dungeons with them… and then here, a man was found dead. The humans didn’t think it seemed natural, more like he had been killed… and tied to the earth in vines, adorned with yellow flowers.” 

     A studious look began forming on her face as her curiosity grew, and she eagerly flipped to the next page.

     “‘Torrential rain. All that has befell upon us is torrential rain, most curious during the harvest season. There has been no sign of the Harvester, and his spirits have grown restless.’ ‘The rain does not relent. Day and night, no minute is at peace. Some have fled for higher ground, others have sought shelter down below in the depths of the dungeons. I fear I may have to take my family elsewhere in search of safety. It has grown impossible to tell if it is even daytime - the entire world is dark, masked in storm clouds bringing about endless thunder and rain.’ ‘Stragglers arrived at the camp just across the river today. They said the entire homeland is flooded, nothing but water as far as the eye can see. A boy with them spouts claims of a scorned Goddess, screaming and wailing into the night, and the Harvester trying to console her, “Galatea… Galatea…” I don’t think parents should be encouraging such nonsense, but it is not my child.’”

     Silence filled the air around them as Lethia stopped talking, her wide eyes locked on the journal. She flipped page after page, and yet nothing else was written.

     “Do you think that’s what happened?” Esper’s quiet voice broke the silence, and she finally lifted her head to face the others. “What if Galatea had found a new lover, this human that was written about, and the Harvester killed him - took his soul? It sounds just like the story, the one about Galatea and Polyphemus. Maybe that’s why all the spirits here keep saying her name - she flooded the land and killed them all out of grief, and they all remember.”

     Another long silence sat, an uneasiness lingering in the air before Wolfem spoke.

     “I don’t know - it all sounds a little ridiculous, don’t you think? Gods, Goddesses? Turning creatures into springs, creating storms and floods? No one can do all that, it’s ridiculous.” He definitely didn’t fully believe his own words - his uncertainty was impossible to miss. He couldn’t understand how anyone could blindly believe all of it, but he had to admit that it was all a bit too consistent to just be a coincidence.

     “Hey..” Lethia began, closing the journal and placing the two books back into their stack. “Do you remember how you got to the camp - do you think you could take me? I’d like to see if I can find anything there.”

     Both Wolfrem and Esper’s eyes widened, bewildered at her request.

     “After all that, you want to go there? What if more spirits come?” He questioned, appalled that she had even suggested it.

     “I’m sure I’ll be fine,” she gave him a coy smile, slowly rising next to him. “I’ll have you to protect me, of course.”