viridisix 

_"Only cowards and idiots traverse the Dungeon alone."_

 

The memory is sharp - _painful_ - but Vitium pays his mother's voice no mind. He will find her, and then he will heed her warnings, but until that happens he will continue to ignore all distractions that attempt to get in his way. He's _fine_. More than well-equipped for whatever the tunnels may throw his way, between his size and his... well. His size will hopefully be more than enough to deter any potential threats.

 

He rounds a corner, following the distant sound of running water from deep in the caverns. And then he stops.

 

There's a darkness up ahead - a figure, looming and foreboding, that slips down a rocky pathway to the left. Vitium isn't sure whether the figure moved because it saw him, or because it had already been moving before he arrived, but it doesn't make a difference to him. He picks up his pace, trotting in the shadow's wake. The tale of his father's death recites itself undesirably in his mind, but he presses onward, convinced that this creature will lead him to his mother. It's too coincidental to be anything less than Fate.

 

A loose rock shifts beneath a hoof, but he catches himself before he fully trips. He takes a moment to properly examine his surroundings.

 

The tunnel is certainly an ancient, unused one - the uneven rocks beneath his hooves are coated in a thick layer of dust, no signs of footprints aside from his own and something distinctly feline and... fresh. The cavern walls have carvings marred deep into the stone, clawed by a formidable predator long ago. Vitium isn't naive enough to mistake it for anything but what it is - a warning.

 

But he catches a hint of movement behind him, and he manages to turn around despite the narrow passageway. 

 

"You, um. You wouldn't happen to know where my mother is, would you?" he fumbles out the second he locks eyes with what could only be described as a large house cat, with tan fur and massive paws. 

 

The feline hisses in response, which Vitium wisely assumes means "no". And then it lunges with an ear-splitting roar, and he whips around to gallop as fast as the rocky ground will let him, the beast keeping up with terrifying ease.

 

"Mother is going to _kill_ me," he groans to himself, mind replaying every warning she's ever given him regarding the Dungeon.

 

springfoss

The rocky passage sloped gradually up underfoot, and Vairn walked steadily on, instinct guiding his steps. The heat of the Furnace was behind him, and slowly, foliage started to reappear in the caverns. Things were quiet, here; at least, comparatively. A swarm of bats and a pervasive slime felt like foal’s play compared to the dangers that lurked far beneath his hooves. Vairn wouldn’t claim that the Furnace was the *most* dangerous of the dungeons, but between the fiery beasts and the narrow ledges sitting atop molten magma, it was certainly up there. 

 

Sheir rattled in its throat and nestled in to the base of his mane. When he’d first ended up with his little tagalong, after finding the little elemental abandoned on the surface, it had been a bit of an annoyance. But, pretty quickly, Sheir had proven itself to be adept at spotting small details and sensing danger, often even before Vairn did. Especially in the Furnace, where the creature had to have originated. 

 

He was just thinking about his little wordless companion when Sheir bolted upright- Vairn could feel as much by the press of small talons onto his withers- and went stock-still. Vairn stopped, setting down his hoof with a *thunk* and letting the corridor fall into stillness and silence. His long ears swiveled, straining to find what Sheir had noticed. 

 

A yowling roar echoed down the chamber, startlingly close, and Sheir squawked and hooked its claws into Vairn’s armor. Vairn himself braced, ears swiveling as he tried to pinpoint the direction of the incoming threat, until he heard a second sound amid the growling of the cat; hooves. 

 

A thunderous gallop that echoed down the chamber told Vairn all he needed to know- that he was not the chosen prey of the hidden beast, and rather, someone else was. 

 

The muscles in his haunches coiled and Vairn launched forward, heavy footfalls echoing in the corridor. His body ached from a full adventure in the Furnace- he had been on his way to the surface, after all- but that didn’t matter. Nor did it matter who it was being assailed by the cat in the caverns. By fate, Vairn was here when they needed him to be, and he would not fail even a stranger. 

 

He galloped forward until the corridor opened up, a chamber expanding around him as he found himself on a ledge running along the wall. Below him, the sound of hooves and the heavy panting of a horse preceded the courser that burst suddenly from another small opening. An absolutely *massive* horse ran just inches in front of the claws of a sleek feline monster, shiny teeth bared in preparation for a hefty meal. 

 

Not if Vairn could help it.

 

With a bray that came from deep in his chest, Vairn launched himself over the ledge without a second thought, half-galloping, half-skidding down the sloped cavern wall on a collision course with the stranger. He bowed his head, the pale light of nearby mushrooms glinting off the rams’ horns embedded in his helmet, and charged. 

 

The huge courser slipped by inches in front of his head as he timed his strike perfectly. The cat couldn’t reroute, as focused on the chase as it was, and it screeched as several tons of courser and iron collided with it at full speed, slamming it easily away from its prey. Vairn snorted and slammed the beast into the far wall of the cavern, ignoring the sharp claws that cut at his shoulders. He reared back, hooves churning the air, and slammed down onto the frantic cat, filling the chamber with the sick sound of crunching bone. The yowl the beast let out was distinctly *wetter* than the last, and Vairn reared again, bringing his hooves down on the beast’s skull, silencing it at last. 

 

At once, the chamber was plunged into silence. Vairn’s sides heaved as he caught his breath from the uphill sprint, and he stepped back, a sickening squelch coming from his bloodied hooves as he stepped off the corpse of the cave cat.

 

viridisix

Vitium didn't even have a chance to blink, think, or breathe before the feline pursuing him was knocked off course by a blow that narrowly missed him. He skids to a halt, foolishly shutting his eyes as his hooves come dangerously close to a ledge, but he manages by some miracle to not go hurtling off the edge. He takes a moment to stand there, heaving and trembling, the noises of a fierce battle behind him sounding as distant as a bird's cry far above his head on the Surface. 

 

But, just as quickly as the cries and stamping had started, they stop, and Vitium's neck twitches with the familiar itch of dread. 

 

Something is dead, or maybe both his assailant _and_ his savior, or... no, one of them survived, because he can hear the distinct sound of heavy breathing even over the deafening roar of his own breaths. 

 

A familiar wave of peace crashes over him, numbing him to any indiciation of danger, as he gives into his hope. _'The Courser is standing behind me. The cat is dead. The cat is dead. The Courser saved me. I'm going to turn around and be okay. Everything's going to be okay. I'm okay.'_ If there's an edge of desperation to his thoughts, he vehemently denies it, giving his body a hard shake to clear the rest of his tension. He's going to turn around, and he's going to see a living horse and a dead cat. He refuses to even contemplate the alternative, because ignoring his problems and doubts has always suited him well.

 

"Thank you. For, um, for saving me," he says earnestly before sucking in a final deep breath and turning around.

 

Vitium feels his expression light up when his optimism is proven reality - there stands a Courser, shorter than him but not by much, and behind him a mangled mess of a feline corpse. The Courser's legs and chest are dripping blood.

 

"Are you okay?" he adds hastily, already trotting up to the horse in blatant concern. Any sense of self-preservation abandoned him the second the chase was over, and he at least owes it to the Courser to make sure he's alright after the guy saved his life. "Are you hurt?"

 

springfoss

Vairn panted as he caught his breath, the mad dash uphill and the heated, even if brief, battle certainly giving a courser of his size a good workout. It was a small miracle, and likely owed entirely to the exhilaration of panic, that the courser even larger than him had escaped the nimble paws of the cave cat. It was just as likely that the cat couldn’t get the right angle to leap up onto the courser’s back, as is their preferred method of takedown for their large prey. Saved by his size, Vairn supposed. 

 

Speaking of the stranger, Vairn looked up to see…well, the backside of him. For a moment before the stranger turned around to face him, all he did was hunch over the edge of a steep ledge and tremble, and Vairn considered this with curiosity. It was out of his character to judge another dungeoneer too harshly, but it was a bit strange that a courser seemingly so rattled by a single cave cat would be down here in the first place. 

 

Then again, Vairn understood the call of the dungeons. He had answered it long before it became irresistible, and had devoted himself to training under esteemed knights and scholars, but not everyone had that luxury. 

 

Finally, the stranger spoke, thanking him before he’d even turned around. When he did, though, his gentle face lit up, as if he’d only half-expected Vairn to be the one left standing. If Vairn had fallen to a small cave cat like this, it would’ve been a much longer, much louder battle- but he supposed the courser didn’t think that far. 

 

Heavy clops echoed off the tall walls as the stranger trotted closer to him. It was strange for Vairn to find someone actually taller than him, as he was larger than most coursers to begin with- so the comparison was an interesting sight. “I’m just fine- a few scrapes is all.” Vairn tipped his head to the stranger and twisted to inspect his shoulders. 

 

The cat’s sharp claws had opened thin, bloody lines on his muscular shoulders, but they were hardly bleeding, already clotting. He rasped his tongue over a set of thin scratches anyway. 

 

“Name’s Sir Vairn. What are you doing so deep in the dungeon all by yourself?” He asked, wording it carefully to avoid asking the much more rude option; *why are you down here if you can’t fend for yourself?*

 

viridisix

Vitium watches the Courser turn his attention to his shoulders, and he then notices the red scratch marks, perfectly aligned with the cat's claws. Briefly, guilt pins Vitium's ears and lowers his head. _'He risked his life for me.'_ But then, the stranger speaks again, and there's no malice in his tone - no _discernible_ malice, at least. _'He saved my life,'_ his brain corrects helpfully.

 

It's not often that Vitium thinks before he speaks. But something about the way the Courser poses the question makes him hesitate, the horse's words carefully chosen and deliberate. Surely he doesn't mean to talk down to Vitium, and he _must_ have good intentions, or he wouldn't have saved a stranger's life. Vitium isn't sure why he can't shake the apprehension rising in his gut like a puddle in a storm, but he elects to ignore it, because wallowing in dread has never helped him with anything.

 

"I'm glad to meet you, Sir Vairn," he begins, caution quickly vanishing with each word, the familiar manic energy that always comes with introductions taking its place. "I'm Vitium. But, um, sometimes Coursers call me Vit. You can too, if you'd like. I don't mind. I also respond to 'Hey You' or 'Freakishly Tall Guy', or anything else along those lines, so feel free to call me anything like that if that's more your thing. I'm fine with whatever!"

 

He trails off for a moment, floundering when his stalling tactic appears to be fruitless, but he decides to answer Sir Vairn's question anyway before the Courser can interrupt him.

 

"I'm looking for something," he says quickly, hoping to brush past the topic, but then his eyes properly take notice of the Courser's armor and... fire? Fire, coming off the Courser's back. "Um, sorry - did you know that you're on fire? Doesn't that hurt?"

 

springfoss

Vairn wasn’t trying to be rude. His careful wording was to avoid coming *off* as rude, even though the more blunt form of his question would’ve come from a place of sincerity. Some coursers got huffy and irritated about “having” to save the hide of inexperienced horses coming down the dungeons for a frolic, but Vairn saw things differently. 

 

All coursers heard the pull of the dungeons. Not all answered, but there was no way to ensure that everyone who did was properly trained. Besides, he didn’t *have* to do anything. He could have turned the other way when he heard the cat’s yowl and moved on, either assuming the owner of the hoof beats would take care of themselves, or not caring about the outcome. No one forced him to come to the courser’s aide, not even the stallion in question, who hadn’t known Vairn was nearby. 

 

This stranger was big, and looked terrified- of the dungeon or Vairn or both, it was hard to say- but Vairn couldn’t help but understand, somewhere deep in his chest. He had trained from a young age to one day brave the dungeons, but many coursers were bound to answer the instinctive call without years of preparations. It was just a fact of life, and a fact of dungeoneering. 

 

His ears, which had been upright ever since the cat fell  to his hooves, flicked in amusement as the stranger- well, Vitium- went on a ridiculous tangent. He couldn’t help the smile that quirked the edge of his lip, and he snorted softly, but not unkindly. The stallion was clearly rattled by his encounter. 

 

Vitium paused, and Vairn let him, getting the sense there were more words on the tip of the courser’s tongue. Sure enough, Vitium continued, vaguely referencing that he was looking for something. 

 

Vairn didn’t blame him. Most coursers down here were looking for something. 

 

Then Vit’s attention wandered, and Vairn cocked an eyebrow, only to laugh at the stallion’s innocent question. “Aye, that’s Sheir.” He replied with a grin, turning his head to gesture his nose at his withers. Sheir, who had been politely quiet while the coursers spoke (and also holding on for dear life for the charge at the cave cat), warbled as he heard his name, and untucked himself from the base of Vairn’s mane. 

 

The thing was…odd. It looked almost like a bird of prey, but when you took more than a passing glance, it really didn’t. Its head was round and blunted almost like a lizard, while its body was spindly and long-legged. Bat-like wings gave it the appearance almost like a bird, save for the tiny taloned paws at the crest of each wing. And, of course, the fact it was made of fire. Its body was largely pitch dark, like obsidian, with cracks and swathes of exposed magma-like substance. It wasn’t always actively on fire, but licks of flame danced up between such cracks, giving the illusion of flame that Vitium had seen. 

 

“He’s a flame elemental, from the Furnace. I take it you’ve not seen one before?” Vairn continued. He’d been on his way to the surface anyway, he could stop for a while and have a chat to calm the nerves of a fellow courser.

 

viridisix

Vitium peers around Sir Vairn, trying to get a better look at the creature perched on his back. _Indescribable_ would be the only fitting adjective for the beast, he thinks. It appears to be almost... made of rocks? Vitium isn't sure what to make of it, nor is he sure of Sir Vairn's nonchalance about it. In none of the thousands of stories Mother had told him about the Dungeon did she mention _friendly_ monsters. 

 

But the longer Vitium spends in the Dungeon, the more he begins to realize just how little Mother _actually_ told him. He can recite most of her stories by heart as if he had lived them himself, but her tales of heroics pale in comparison to trying to survive in the caverns on his own. And if he, with his towering height and thundering hooves, struggles underground, how can he expect his smaller, quieter mother to survive? 

 

_'Because she isn't weak like you,'_ a familiar voice whispers in his ear, and it twitches in subtle protest. It has been years since he last heard his sister's voice, but he recognizes it in an instant all the same. She isn't _here_, of course - not really. And Vitium selfishly hopes that she doesn't come back - not this version, that is, because he would give almost anything for his real sister to come home and reunite with him again. But the illusion that lurks in his ears isn't his sister. Volo would never tear him down the way his brain seems to think she would. He grits his teeth to steel himself.

 

Sir Vairn speaks again, and Vitium is so lost in thought that he almost misses the question entirely. He blinks out of his trance, turning his focus back to the Courser rather than his apparent companion. A sudden itch irritates his chest, and he ducks his head to quickly scratch at it before replying. 

 

"I- um. No, I haven't." He shakes his head to dislodge any remnants of shame at his inexperience in the Dungeon. "Up until, uh..." He trails off, trying to determine today's date. Time feels... _different_ down here. He tries again. "It's only recently that I've started exploring the Dungeon. I spent a bit of time down here as a colt, but..."

 

His shoulder twitches with a new itch. He ignores it. 

 

"It's been a while. I don't even know what the Furnace _is_. Mo-" The twitching is more persistent now, and he reaches around to scratch at it briskly before turning back to Sir Vairn. "I've never been that deep before, I don't think. Is he like- um, is he a pet or something? A friend?"

 

springfoss

Vitium seemed lost in thought as he inspected Sheir, and the little elemental warbled, a sound somewhere between a deep-throated songbird and the crush of stones pressing against one another. It was strange, and hard to describe in words, but Vairn could say one thing about Sheir for certain- his sounds almost always came across as more threatening than they actually were. Perhaps not his curious warble, but it had taken even Vairn a while to get used to the way Sheir hissed- a raspy, aggressive sound- merely to point out something it had seen.

 

Vitium seemed to snap out of his thoughts when Vairn spoke again. How a nervous, easily distracted courser like this had even gotten this far in the dungeon was curious to Vairn, but he didn’t voice such thoughts, knowing they’d be taken as insults. He’d seen the stride the huge horse had- that and the look of him had clearly been enough to get him to this point. 

 

As Vit spoke, his muscles twitched, the familiar equine response to a pervasive itch or the brush of plant or insect. It didn’t really catch Vairn’s attention until Vit ducked to chew at his chest, as if jolted into movement by the itch becoming too unbearable. He didn’t seem to have any hairless patches, though, so it must be nerves. 

 

“That makes sense,” Vairn said, adding a soft laugh  to his voice to hopefully soothe Vit’s nerves. “No shame in that. I’ve been delving these dungeons for some years now.” 

 

It certainly had been. As a yearling he’d answered the call of the dungeons, but he’d done so more cautiously than Vitium (though, he had the means to train with knights before he came down here himself). Training alongside mentors and taking quick training plunges into the overgrown caverns helped prepare him for his comparatively more recent solo career as a knight. 

 

It wasn’t surprising Vitium didn’t know about the Furnace. Thank the *stars* he didn’t, really, as even the most minor distraction (like an itch, for example) could be deadly if the wrong step was taken. Vit cut himself off, and abruptly changed course, back to talking about Sheir. Vairn let it slide, it was none of his business. 

 

“Hah, a bit of both, I suppose. Sheir?” He rolled one shoulder, and the little elemental chirped and jumped off his withers, half-gliding the short distance to land on the center of Vitium’s back instead. His little paws pressed wide- even a creature as small and simple as Sheir knew to be careful of his tiny claws. They wouldn’t come anywhere near piercing skin just by sitting there, but the little creature could clearly read Vitium’s anxiety as well as Vairn could. Sheir gave a short squawk, and a plume of harmless flame puffed up from the top of his head- showing off. Despite being made of flame, the touch of the elemental was merely a pleasant heat, not a burn atop Vit’s back. 

 

“He helps listen for danger, and spot things I miss. He’s great at finding shiny treasures.” Vairn reared his head, peering down the long chamber at the dark hole Vit had previously come bolting out of. “Were you headed down that way?”

 

viridisix

Vitium finds himself getting distracted again as Vairn speaks, but any shame he likely _should_ feel is drowned out by his curiosity. He's seen armored Coursers before, departing for and returning from the Dungeon as they passed by him on the Surface. But he cannot recall ever having spoken to one, always too caught up in his own whatever-the-hell he was feeling at the time. Distantly, he recalls his mother having mentioned that she, too, had adorned armor when she was still an adventurer. That she had left her protection behind when she left the life of a dungeoneer behind, the lifestyle too agonizing to continue without her mate. He wonders if perhaps Sir Vairn would recognize her name - Vitium doubts they would have ever met, with her having surrendered her armor long before Vitium was born, and Sir Vairn doesn't appear to be that much older than himself. But perhaps he would have heard tales of her heroics, just as Vitium did. 

 

Or perhaps not. The hope of learning more about his mother pales in comparison to the deep-rooted fear of discovering secrets he wished to never know about her, so he holds his tongue.

 

And then nearly bites it off when Sheir is launching at him, landing on his back and sending a strange warmth through his skin. But it isn't scalding hot like he expected from a... what was it that Sir Vairn called him? A flame elemental. 

 

No, the warmth from the beast is nothing akin to the warmth of a too-close fire. 

 

A hazy memory lurks in the deep recesses of his mind, ever-so-slightly out of reach, of the sun's gentle warmth on his back as he lays contently against his sleeping mother's side, an unweaned colt just discovering the feelings of love and happiness. Few of his memories can be described as truly peaceful, but this one is nothing but. A strange sense of nostalgia washes over him, one he rarely experiences. 

 

He feels... comforted. He can't resist turning his head back to Sheir to flash the elemental a grateful smile.

 

And then Sir Vairn is gesturing to the tunnel Vitium had been chased through, and the serenity starts to wane. The feeling he's beginning to recognize as loneliness rears its ugly head, however, as he starts to wonder if the other Courser is only changing the subject in an attempt at a dismissal. 

 

"Um, I guess so. I don't know. I was..." He fumbles for the right words, not wanting to mention the shadowy figure he was following in case one of the few Coursers who had spoken to him for more than a single minute decided that he was far too crazy to stick around with. He settles on something that isn't exactly a lie. "Honestly, I don't really know _where_ I am. I've just sort of been wandering around hoping to find something. It's a good thing I found you, ha! Where are you going? The Surface? I mean, I know you have Sheir and all, but if you're looking for another buddy to tag along, I've been told I'm a great conversationalist. I don't have anywhere else to be." The _"I don't have anyone waiting,"_ is unspoken, but rings loudly in Vitium's ears regardless.

 

springfoss

As expected, Vitium looked like he nearly jumped out of his skin when Sheir hopped over to him, but luckily the move didn’t seem to be a bad one. Vit settled, and even twisted to give Sheir a little smile, to which the elemental responded with a shrill, but not unkind, raptor-like cry. 

 

Finding Sheir had been, at the time, seemingly an annoyance. A shivering, nearly-solidified flame elemental hiding pathetically from the rain on the surface had not been what Vairn had ever planned for, and at the time, he’d thought that picking up the little creature to return it to its home had been a mistake, after the elemental attached itself to the courser. He’d thought Sheir would be a hindrance, another thing to keep an eye on in the dungeons if he were to fulfill his self-given quest of returning him to the Furnace. Then it had gotten even more ridiculous, as they got to the Furnace and yet Sheir refused to leave his side. At that point, though, he had already started to prove himself as more than Vairn had expected. Clinging tight to his back during fights and chases or otherwise keeping himself out of the way, and using his raptor-like eyes to spot shiny trinkets that Vairn may otherwise have missed. By the time Sheir refused to leave his side in the Furnace, Vairn…had rather liked the little fella. 

 

The peace that had settled on Vit’s face faded rather abruptly when Vairn referenced the passage he’d come from, and Vairn clicked his teeth to keep from sighing at himself. No, this giant puck would *not* become another Sheir to him. Except…

 

Except.

 

*Except* the stallion prattled on again, clearly rambling out of nerves, chattering on and on about how he didn’t know where he was going, and where was Vairn going, and could maybe-possibly-if-Vairn-wanted he could come? And Vairn held back another sigh. Damn this unprepared, oversized, anxiety-ridden stallion for being so strangely endearing. 

 

“Just exploring,” He answered for himself, half-lying. He *had* been headed toward the surface, but…he had the rations to keep going. He was tired, but if he managed to get Vitium to a point of confidence where he could take watch in shifts, he could actually get some good sleep, perhaps. The overgrown Caverns of the first level were basically foal’s play to him at this point, anyway. 

 

“C’mon, then,” Vairn said with a loose smile, turning himself toward the passage he’d watched Vitium come sprinting out of. His heavy hooves clunked on the stone as he casually passed the mangled remains of the cave cat, not even glancing in its direction. Its pelt would’ve been a nice find for the leather workers on the surface, but Vairn may have been a little…carried away in his quest to get it away from the hocks of the stranger. Covered in hoofprints and viscera was not usually how leather workers preferred to receive their stock.

 

viridisix

It has been... painfully long. Since Mother left, since Vitium was plunged into a loneliness like nothing he'd ever felt before, since he last roamed the Dungeon with anyone at his side. The self-imposed isolation certainly wears down a Courser, whose heart beats in rhythm with other herd animals. They were never meant to live alone, after all, united by blood and virtue and fate. And... and Vitium doesn't _want_ to live alone, either - he didn't want it when Mother left, and he wants it even less now that he's experienced it for himself. 

 

So, when Sir Vairn offers him a smile far kinder than any bumbling idiot should really deserve (and _wow_, does it light up the Courser's entire appearance, a stark contrast to the drying blood splattered across his chest and the glinting armor of a seasoned warrior), Vitium can't help but return it with an even bigger grin. And yet his smile isn't even the best part - no, it's the _acceptance_. The simple "C'mon, then," uttered as plainly as a passing greeting, with all the ease of someone who really-likely-probably-actually doesn't mind exploring the Dungeon with Vitium.

 

He has to bite back a squeal of excitement; of hope. And he knows this won't last, knows that Sir Vairn and him will part ways once they reach the Surface, but it doesn't matter. For the first time in a long time, Vitium can simply bask in the companionship of another, for as long as it may last.

 

He hopes it's forever.

 

Vitium starts to follow Sir Vairn, giddy in his step, casting a quick glance back at Sheir to confirm with himself that this is real, that he can physically _feel_ it, so it can't be his imagination running wild again. And then he turns back, the blood-soaked, broken feline catching his attention. He curls his lip in disgust. It's not a sight that is going to leave his memory any time soon, that is for certain.

 

But then he picks up the pace, trotting to catch up to Sir Vairn as the shorter Courser enters the tunnel Vitium had nearly died in just seconds before they met. 

 

"So," he begins, cringing at the way his voice echoes back to him in the narrow, rocky tunnel, without any moss to dampen the volume. "The 'Sir' in Sir Vairn... Is that, like, just your name? Or is it a title? How did you earn it? Did you-" He cuts off, giving his head a vigorous shake to physically restrain himself from bombarding the poor guy with more questions. "Sorry, um, I've been told I can be a bit... _much_." His lips twitch, wanting to sneer, but he resists the temptation in spite of his irritation. "Please, let me know if you want me to, like, shut up or whatever. I don't mind."

 

And, if he _does_ mind, well. It's not like Sir Vairn needs to know about that.

 

springfoss

Vairn didn’t often travel with other coursers, but that wasn’t because of deliberate choice. There *were* others he could, and had, adventured with. But sometimes, when the pull of the dungeon swelled in his chest and his hooves itched for a fight, the urge to *explore* washing over him, it was easier to just gear up and go rather than try to pull a party together. Vairn wasn’t lonely, he was just alone, for now.

 

Well, not anymore, it seemed. Vairn caught a glimpse of a blindingly happy smile on Vitium’s face before he turned around to start moving, and the grin on his own face faded into something softer, more private. This stallion really did seem like an oversized colt, with the inexperience and unbridled joy to match, but Vairn didn’t mind. He’d adventured with all types of coursers, from the teeth-gratingly normal to the eccentric. Vitium seemed older than the average squire or apprentice, but that’s basically what he was, and that was something Vairn was used to. 

 

Sheir warbled and climbed up Vitium’s thick neck as they entered the dark passage, tiny claws hooking in his mane, until he could settle between the stallion’s ears. The creature took a deep, swelling breath, like air rushing into a bellows, and the molten cracks between his basalt-like “skin” began to glow brighter, fiercer. A thin patch of them on his throat gave the most light, illuminating the corridor ahead of them. Usually, he was sat upon Vairn’s head to do this, but Vairn could make do with following his own shadow.

 

Vairn spoke up shortly after they entered the narrow corridor, and Vairn’s head twitched at the unexpected volume. Vit seemed to react similarly, as when he continued, his voice was hushed to more appropriately match the close walls around them. The soft smile stayed on Vairn’s muzzle as Vitium started rambling, only fading abruptly as the courser cut himself off, an apology already on his tongue. 

 

“I don’t mind, so long as you don’t mind me not being as chatty,” Vairn smiled over his shoulder encouragingly. Squires needed encouragement and praise, after all. “It’s a title. I’m a member of a loose order of knights tasked with delving the dungeons and protecting those who cannot protect themselves. Or can’t *yet.*” He tacked on, not wanting Vitium to think he was underhandedly talking about him. Sure, it was true that Vitium didn’t seem able to fight on his own, but he had the potential to be a great fighter once he got past his nerves. 

 

He would’ve asked Vitium for his purpose in the dungeon, too, but he already had it. Vit had said he was looking for something, and got immediately cagey about it. That wasn’t unusual. He didn’t seem like the type who would answer the pull in his heart for *fun.* 

 

The passage sloped underfoot, the tumble of dusty rocks implying few coursers had been down this way, at least not recently. The loose stones may imply a rockslide long ago- Vairn was careful to keep an ear out for any signs of another. “This thing you’re looking for,” He started slowly, almost cautious, “What will you do when you find it?” 

 

viridisix

Vitium feels Sheir's warmth on his poll, and for a moment, a chill runs down his back where the elemental had sat previously. _'It would be nice if Sheir was bigger,'_ he thinks to himself longingly, _'So that his warmth could fully envelope me. Like one of Mother's blankets.'_ But he had long since outgrown those blankets, both in maturity and also in size, so he felt a bit childish to long for them. He didn't need oversized rags for comfort. He was a _Courser_.

 

But then Sir Vairn smiles back at him again, explaining his title and role, and Vitium decides that he truly _doesn't_ need blankets - nor even Sheir - for comfort. No, the way warmth flows through him at Sir Vairn's encouraging glance is enough. More than enough, really. 

 

A litany of follow-up questions race through his mind after Sir Vairn (_does_ Vitium need to use his full title? He isn't sure, so he plays it safe) finishes speaking. _'Where are the other knights? How did you earn the title? What do you look for in the dungeons? Who trained you? Are all armored Coursers knights? Are you only walking with me because it's your job? Do you actually-'_ he ducks his head to scratch at an itch on his shoulder, abruptly cutting off his own train of thought. Luckily, Sir Vairn's attention is turned back to the rocks below their hooves. Unfortunately, Vitium did forget about Sheir on his forelock - he's grateful that the elemental is gripping his mane hard enough to not get flung off.

 

Sir Vairn is speaking again, and his tone has changed, and his words are slower. But his question makes Vitium halt, a small rock tumbling down the passage with the abrupt movement. The sound is near-deafening in the quiet of the tunnel, echoing off the walls and assaulting his ears like a battlefield. He winces, forcing his legs to start moving again, at a marginally quicker pace to catch back up to Sir Vairn.

 

"I..." he starts. Stops. Turns his head again, this time to scratch at an itch on his flank, and nearly bumps into Sir Vairn as he walks blindly onward. He turns his head again to face forward, taking care to do so slowly for Sheir's sake. "Sorry," he says to Sheir.

 

"I don't know. I've been so focused on finding... _it_, that I haven't really thought about what I'll do when I do. Be really happy, I guess? It... it depends on a lot of factors. Sorry, I know that's really vague, I just... I'm kind of going into all of this blindly, y'know? I don't really know what I'm doing, just that I _have_ to do it. But I guess that's probably the case for a lot of Coursers, right?" There's an edge of worry in his voice, and it makes him cringe, but he figures that he's hardly the first nervous Courser that Sir Vairn has ever spoken to.

 

springfoss

Vairn could practically feel the younger stallion’s bright gaze on his pelt as he explained. He didn’t go into too much detail; he didn’t think it was necessary. His “order” of knights, if you’d call it that, was looser than most. He didn’t have a lord he served, or a general he followed. His purpose was to serve the dungeons; to delve them, explore them and discover their secrets, and rid them of the malicious beasts that stalked them. To aid other coursers when needed, to lend an ear and hoof. The only master Vairn served was the instinctive Pull every courser felt. His title came from the vow he took to do just that, and the years of training to teach him all he knew now. 

 

Vitium ducked his head to scratch another itch, which Vairn only knew because the warm glow of Sheir swung abruptly down and away, followed by a surprised squawk from the elemental as he gripped Vit’s forelock for dear life. The dramatics made Vairn laugh softly. He’d put the little creature through a whole lot worse, through countless battles in the dungeon with Sheir clinging to his back, and the elemental hardly ever complained. He was just being theatric. 

 

Vairn tried to be careful in his question- he didn’t want Vitium’s conversation to be one-sided, after all- but the hoofbeats of the courser behind him abruptly stopped. A few steps ahead, Vairn stopped as well, turning to look with concern at the younger stallion. He seemed like such a sweet horse, Vairn didn’t want to trigger miserable thoughts. Not everything sought by coursers in the dungeons was a quest of glory- just as often it was duty, or guilt, or any number of things. 

 

Vitium scratched at his flank and turned back, apologizing to Sheir (cute) before speaking to Vairn again, trotting quickly to catch back up. Slowly, Vairn started walking again, to keep a sense of normalcy for Vitium. He listened keenly to what Vit had to say, one long ear swiveled to show Vitium he was listening. After a moment, he nodded, closing his eyes for a moment. “Aye, I understand. I don’t seek anything in the dungeons; I just think it is my purpose in life, to explore them.”

 

He glanced back, giving Vitium a soft look. “You’ll find what you’re looking for, I’m sure of it.” 

 

As they took their next few steps, Vairn noticed the echo on the stone growing less intense. He refocused ahead of them, and in Sheir’s light, he saw the passage widening up. Ahead, light filtered in through a crack in the wall; Vairn wandered closer to it, and found that the more natural, rocky tunnel they were in intersected with a manmade chamber. Vairn stepped carefully off of the rocks and through the cleft in the wall, and found himself in a large room with stone brick walls, lit very faintly by the lichen tumbling down the cracks in the stone. Water trickled through the seams of the cobbled floor, and moss thrived underfoot. Vairn scoured the room, looking for signs of danger- 

 

Which was how he spotted the shadowy figure, just disappearing through the door on the far side of the room.

 

Viridisix

Vitium is caught off guard, for a moment, when Sir Vairn explains that he is only in the Dungeon to explore. Frankly, it had never occurred to him that a Courser would venture down here just... for the sake of adventure, really. Underground is scary, and dimly lit, and there are terrifying monsters that lurk in the dark, waiting for horse-sized prey to venture into their expectant jaws. There are a million different ways to die down here - a fact which he doesn't like to think too hard about, for fear of applying those worries to his mother. But the idea that someone could willingly enter the Dungeon, not to _find_ something (or someone), but to fulfill some greater purpose? It's a foreign concept to Vitium, and it certainly gives him a new respect for Sir Vairn.

 

His heart skips a beat at Sir Vairn's reassurance and gentle glance. He hasn't told many Coursers about his search for his mother (and, he supposes, he hasn't actually _told_ Sir Vairn, either), but the few he has were never so... encouraging. Respectful, even. He grins, reinvigorated by the faith placed in him, and thinks that he would very much like to stick with Sir Vairn for as long as he physically can.

 

He tries to formulate a response, to think of _any_ appropriately-grateful way to thank the knight, but he keeps faltering. How does one thank someone for believing in them? He supposes there isn't really a good way to go about it, at least not one that comes to mind.

 

But Sir Vairn's attention is elsewhere now, looking ahead to carefully study their surroundings. Vitium follows him closely, both for the sake of lighting their path better with Sheir on his head, and also in nervousness. He lowers his head slowly, lifting a hind leg to scratch at an itch on his neck, doing his best to keep his head still to avoid jostling Sheir more than necessary. And then he watches Sir Vairn disappear through a crack in the wall, and immediately ceases his scratching to trot after him, panic beginning to creep through his nerves at the thought of being left behind.

 

The open wall is perfectly tall enough for Sir Vairn to walk through comfortably, but Vitium is quite a bit taller than the knight. It isn't an _uncomfortable_ squeeze, but he has to duck his head even lower to avoid Sheir colliding with the stone above him as he passes through. And then, a hand-carved room greets him, far too intricate to have ever been crafted by a Courser. No, this is the work of humans, and Vitium takes in his surroundings with wonder. 

 

When he feels Sir Vairn go still beside him, he glances back at the knight, following his gaze to the other side of the room. A shadow of a tail disappears through the door. He recognizes the tail, however fleeting - this was the shadow he had been following, before he was ambushed by the feline. He perks up, perhaps foolishly, and begins to run after it.

 

"Come on, Sir Vairn!" he shouts as he approaches the door, barreling through it with a ducked head. "I think it's leading us somewhere!"

 

springfoss

Vitium didn’t say much, after Vairn spoke. The puck couldn’t be sure if that was a good or a bad thing, but the stranger seemed to be mulling over his words in some fashion, and he hoped he’d said something to encourage the young dungeoneer. 

 

Vitium didn’t have a good chance, on his own. Vairn wouldn’t say it out loud, but he was sure they both knew it. He mulled over, privately, what could be the downside of letting the bright-eyed courser tag along with him, for a while. He had been headed to the surface for a respite, but he hadn’t told Vitium that, and he didn’t need to know. In these higher levels of the dungeons, vegetation was plentiful, and a courser could live down here indefinitely if they so chose. Vairn hadn’t had an *actual* traveling companion longer than a single excursion for quite a while now. 

 

Of course, he didn’t know for sure that Vitium would want that, either. They’d been together for less than an hour, it was kind of forward- and Vairn knew it- to think already about dungeoning together. But often, things *had* to move quickly, in the life of a courser. They could go their separate ways and ponder the possibility for as long as they wanted, or they could spend that valuable time plunging the dungeons. Vairn decided he’d just stick around for a while, and see if Vitium did the same thing. 

 

He was pulled from his thoughts by the entrance to the manmade chamber, and he stepped in, looking around with muted wonder. The beauty of the dungeons wasn’t missed on Vairn; the sheer age of the things, and the knowledge that someone, long ago, crafted these stone walls with care, would touch most coursers. He was distracted from the beauty when his scan for threats landed his attention on the shadow, disappearing out the far door. 

 

Vitium saw it too.

 

Sheir squawked when the huge courser suddenly took off, bounding after the shadow with a shout. Vairn’s heart skipped in shock, and before he knew it, he was surging forward- but not in excitement. 

 

Vitium had a longer stride than Vairn, but a trained knight could really kick into high gear when he needed to. He ran at a flat-out gallop to the far end of the chamber and charged through the door, uncharacteristically heedless of the dangers ahead, in order to catch up to Vitium. 

 

“*Stop!*” He bellowed, charging into near-pure darkness without his elemental, following the red gleam ahead as it grew closer. Finally, he caught up to the heels of the larger horse, and without thinking twice he slammed his shoulders into Vitium’s haunches, throwing him off balance and sending them both tumbling to a stop. 

 

Vairn dragged himself to his hooves, panting through flared nostrils from the dead sprint. “Do not, *ever,* run off like that,” He gasped, trying his best to reign in the shock that tried to give an edge to his voice, “The dungeons are *dangerous,* and hardly anything is ever as it-“ 

 

Sheir screeched, and Vairn immediately noticed that, perched on Vitium’s shoulder still, the elemental was looking *past* him. Vairn turned, looking down the passage, and came face to face with two bright, glowing red eyes. 

 

There came a furious snort, and out of the shadows stalked a mockery of a courser. It was shaped like a horse, but twisted with malice, froth dripping from its muzzle. Vairn took a step back toward Vitium, putting himself more firmly between him and the monster. 

 

This thing was not alive.

 

viridisix

As Vitium runs, the sound of his hooves beating in rhythm against the cobblestone drowns out all other noises - perhaps an unwise idea in the Dungeon, but certainly useful for keeping his one-track mind focused on his mission. And he's getting _closer_, and he can _feel_ it, breath almost within reach of the shadow he's chasing. If he could just _follow_ it, maybe it would-

 

An unexpected impact collides with his hindquarters, and before he can properly regain his footing, his hooves are slipping out from underneath him and he's crashing to the cobblestone floor with an alarmed whinny. He takes a moment to heave, trying to catch his breath from when the fall had knocked it out of him. He then lifts his head, swinging it around wildly to figure out what had tripped him.

 

Vairn is rising to his hooves beside Vitium. His eyes are wide with shock and... fear? Certainly not. But Vitium is competent enough to realize that it was Vairn who had sent him careening to the ground.

 

He rises shakily to his feet, mind racing with all the possible ways he could start his "I could have broken my neck and you had _no right_ to almost kill both of us" rant, but then Vairn is speaking before he can even open his mouth. 

 

Vitium feels his ears lowering in remorse, feeling more like a colt being sent to time-out than he has since... well, since he was a colt. There's a brutal itch on his stomach, but he resists the urge to scratch it. "I just..." he starts, voice meek and nervous, but he trails off as Sheir shrieks. And then, Vairn turns around, and stills. Vitium tilts his head to peer around the knight, and dread sinks like a stone in his stomach.

 

He notices the red eyes first, brighter than even Sheir's flames, glowing with fury. And then the beast steps out of the shadows, movements wicked and predatory, like no Courser Vitium has ever seen before. He lowers his head to whisper something to Vairn, but apparently that was the wrong move, as suddenly the beast is lunging at them with a rabid scream. 

 

Vitium, in what is most certainly not his brightest impulse decision, rams his shoulders against Vairn's flank, using his larger size to force the knight out of the way of the not-Courser's glinting teeth and sharp hooves. It sprints past both of them, skidding to halt somewhere in the darkness further down the tunnel. Vitium feels something... _wet_, on his hock, and he kicks back with the offending leg to shake off what must certainly be foam or drool from the horrifying creature. 

 

Thunderous, determined hooves drum against cobblestone from the shadows the not-Courser had disappeared into, rapidly growing closer with each step. Vitium nudges Vairn urgently. "Let's go!" he shouts, legs twitching in preparation to gallop, even as he hesitates to make sure Vairn is joining him in fleeing.

 

springfoss

Vairns’s sides heaved from the sudden 0-to-100 sprint, but his legs stood firm. He may not be built for running, but a short dash like that wasn’t about to sap the energy out of him, not after so many years as an adventurer. He caught his breath as Vitium hauled himself to his hooves, and he caught just a flash of indignation on the larger courser’s face before Vairn spoke up,  silencing whatever Vitium had to say and making him look properly chided. 

 

Vairn *would* have gone on as he calmed down, and would’ve tried his best to explain to Vitium the dangers he could have run into headfirst with such recklessness, before Sheir interrupted them both. Behind Vairn, the shadow that Vitium had been chasing made itself known, a horribly twisted effigy of a courser. Pale blue smoke, so faint it was almost invisible in the dim cavern, licked off the creature’s back like flames. It was not Vairn’s first time seeing a beast like this, nor would it be anywhere near his last, if he had anything to say about it. 

 

It may be a daunting enemy, but not for Vairn. As far as enemies in the dungeon went, a single beast shaped like a horse was likely one of the easiest- few surprises, and a familiar anatomy. Vairn braced himself to meet the spirit on headlong, when suddenly a heavy weight jammed into him from the side. He’d been so prepared for the threat in front of him, he hadn’t expected Vitium to come up with more ways to throw him off his rhythm in the same five minutes. 

 

But as it were, he was thrown off both his rhythm and his balance, stumbling out of the way as the fiend dashed past them. He snorted, baffled, and found his footing again, twisting to try and see past Vit’s shoulders. The spirit had disappeared into the dark passage the way they had come, and Vitium, it seemed, was about to do the same thing in the opposite direction. The huge course bobbed back-to-front, the telltale sign of a horse that begged to gallop, but Vairn was nowhere near ready to follow him. 

 

“No way,” He snorted, a small grin on his face as he twisted to face the dark behind them. “It’s just a loose spirit; watch and learn.” 

 

With a ragged, ear-splitting cry that seemed half horse and half hawk, the blue-gray spirit plunged back into view, preceded by its burning red eyes. Vairn charged it, ducking at the last second so its sharp teeth found only the plated armor on the back of his neck. He scooped the arch of his thick neck between the forelegs of the beast and wrenched his head back, his muscles straining as he flipped the lightweight, undead thing onto its side. It shrieked in surprise, sharp hooves flailing and catching Vairn on the flank, but the knight hardly noticed. 

 

Vairn twisted as the thing scrambled to its feet, drawing his weapon at last from the straps on his side. Tucked away in its sheath, it had been a subtle thing, but now he drew his pitchfork, and Sheir’s light glinted off the deep carmine metal of the tines. 

 

The spirit screeched at the sight of it and scrambled backward, avoiding the first swing. Vairn grunted and readjusted his grip, charging forward in the tight space. Tines pierced flesh with a sickening squelch that seemed not to align with a spirit, but the not-Courser brayed with pain, rearing back and thudding off the stone wall behind it. Vairn pulled the pitchfork loose and struck again; this time the tines plunged through the soft spots in the spirit’s throat, a horrible gargling coming from its throat as its larynx was pierced. 

 

Finally, the fight was over, and Vairn stood bloodied but victorious. The thing twitched unnervingly before finally falling still, and those ghostly flames burned brighter, dissolving the body into mist.

 

viridisix

Vitium's ears pin back when Vairn refuses to follow him in fleeing, pawing at the ground in anticipation of a bloodbath. He _really_ doesn't want to watch his new... friend? Is he allowed to call the knight that? Anyway, he doesn't want to watch Vairn die. For a moment, he considers sprinting off alone, but he doesn't think he would ever forgive himself for abandoning another Courser. So he stays, watches the way Vairn's expression seems to light up at the prospect of a fight, and takes a few steps back to give the knight and the spirit some room.

 

The battle itself is... mesmerizing, honestly. Vitium can't help the way his ears spring to attention with each clattering of hooves and teeth striking metal, trying desperately to memorize everything his senses notice. He can't recall ever having witnessed a fight - not one like _this_, at least - and he's certainly never witnessed an experienced knight in battle. Something stirs in his chest, something he cannot name, and Vitium thinks that he would quite like to stay with Vairn for as long as he's physically able to. The knight could certainly keep him safe, at least. And Vitium could... well, he could offer _something_ in return, probably. He just isn't quite sure what. 

 

Vairn pulls out a weapon, then, and Vitium watches on with all the awe of a colt watching a well-choreographed play about superheroes. 

 

He winces in subconscious sympathy as the pitchfork pierces the not-Courser's skin, immediately followed by a scream of pain. And then Vairn readjusts and plunges the tines through the beast's neck, and Vitium has to look away from the gory scene. The involuntary sounds the spirit makes are horrific enough.

 

And the fight is over, the body disappearing into mist at Vairn's hooves.

 

Vitium lets out a whooping cheer, rearing up and accidentally knocking his head against the ceiling with his height. He's relieved that Sheir is still perched on his shoulder from where he had moved after the tumble - the impact didn't hurt Vitium, a Courser exceptionally used to banging his head against solid objects in his recklessness, but he doubts Sheir would have appreciated it. 

 

Vitium trots over to Vairn as the euphoric rush starts to wane, lowering his head to eye the knight's wounds in concern. 

 

"Come on," he says, nudging the Courser's neck gently with his muzzle. "Let's head back up to the Surface, yeah? I don't want to run into anything else dangerous until you're all patched up. But, can I just say - that was _badass_." His voice is barely louder than a whisper, still hushed in awe.

 

He turns his head back to Sheir, carefully pushing the elemental back over to his rightful companion. And then he falls into step, just behind Vairn, letting the knight take the lead as his familiarity with the Dungeon guides them back toward the Surface.

 

springfoss

Vairn’s sides swelled with his breath as the fight finally came to an end, his nostrils flared while his mouth was still mostly occupied with the pitchfork. It went slack as the not-Courser dissolved into mist around the tines, and he shook off the last vestiges of ethereal blood before tucking the pitchfork back into a series of hooks and straps on the side of his armor. 

 

No sooner had he finished that, than a bellowing cheer echoed through the narrow passage. Vairn couldn’t help but laugh- maybe he should chide Vitium for being so loud, but he was still high on the rush of adrenaline, and clearly so was Vit. The larger courser reared and whinnied in excitement, and Vairn chuckled as he trotted forward, coming up beside Vairn. The excitement in the inexperienced courser’s expression waned a bit when his eyes fell on Vairn’s body, and the knight followed his gaze, noting the cuts the ghoul’s hooves had made. “Ah, that’s nothing,” He snorted in amusement, but he allowed Vitium to turn them toward the way they had come without complaint. He felt a familiar warmth settle back on his withers as Vit nudged Shier back over to him- but Vitium, of course, showed no sign of branching off on his own. In fact, he seemed more attached to Vairn’s side than ever. The knight had no complaints about this, despite Vitium’s inexperience. What were knights for, after all? “You get used to it, don’t worry.” 

 

Despite his bravado, as the adrenaline wore off, the sting of the cuts began to set in. It was nowhere near the worst he’d ever felt, and he could handle it without a flinch, but maybe Vitium was right. A stop by the surface wouldn’t do them any harm, and frankly, Vairn missed the sun on his pelt. 

 

“Alright,” He agreed, taking the  lead a step ahead of Vitium as they headed toward the surface, “Let’s go.”