[Comm (Coins)] (2) Bridge of Echoes

The stone corridor narrowed until the walls pressed close on either side, guiding us into a steep downward slope. The blue glow of the moss was pulsing more urgently now, as if that spiral gate had sensed our commitment and decided to test us immediately.

I could tell that Arctic did not appreciate being tested before breakfast, his ice-blue eyes narrowed in irritation.

“I swear,” he whined, “if this hallway rearranges into a slide or a staircase or a giant carnivorous worm, I’m going to file a complaint with whoever manages ancient magical architecture.”

Gravity trotted behind me, humming happily. “Do you think we’ll have food challenges? Like, you can only pass if you eat thirty berries in thirty seconds? I would be SO good at that.”

“It’s not food-themed,” Khaos said sharply. He walked ahead, stiff-legged and ears pinned as he studied every surface. “This place has a purpose and it’s not to entertain us.”

“Don’t assume malice," I brushed my tail along his flank, soothing his tension. “We understand that you’re worried about Aska, but he can certainly take care of himself until we reach him. Besides, perhaps this place is simply…misunderstood?”

Khaos’s eyes flicked to mine. “Misunderstood structures don’t trap travelers.” But his nicker was more subdued, less biting.

Daydream drifted up beside me, her steps as soft as her voice. “Maybe it’s lonely,” she suggested.

Arctic blinked. “Lonely? It’s made of stone, Daydream.”

“But everything can be lonely,” she said lightly, as if stating an obvious fact. “Even stone.”

Gravity nodded solemnly. “Very true. Even apples can be lonely. That’s why you must always eat at least three.”

Arctic sighed loudly and dramatically, the very picture of a horse suffering under the most extreme circumstances. “I don’t know what universe of emotion either of you live in, but…” He turned a corner and his whinny trailed away into silence.

The corridor opened into a massive stone chasm. An impossibly long bridge stretched over a drop so deep even the blue glow on the walls couldn’t be seen at the bottom. The bridge was narrow, barely wide enough for two at a time, and was carved with ancient runes which I thought looked suspiciously like warnings.

And yet, it was beautiful.

“Horrifying,” Arctic corrected me, accurately reading my shock. “But also… echo!” He whinnied loudly into the depths and his voice dropped like a stone before bouncing back.

Echo… Echo… ECcCho…

It returned warped, pitching higher, then lower, and then splitting into three variations before fading.

My ears twitched. “That doesn’t sound right.”

Daydream blinked slowly. “Something is listening.”

In each of us, every muscle locked. 

“I don’t want it to listen,” Arctic gasped.

Khaos didn’t hesitate, anxious to leave the chamber. He stepped onto the bridge and lowered his head, studying the carvings. “These runes seem to say something about sound. The echoes don’t return naturally…”

“Are they warnings?” I stretched my neck out for a closer look.

Gravity’s ears wilted. “Warnings like… ‘no snacks’?”

Arctic swallowed. “Warnings like ‘step here and you fall into the void’?”

Before Khaos could respond, the entire bridge began to vibrate. A low hum rolled through the air, making the stone beneath their hooves tremble.

And then, something laughed. Not a pleasant laugh, certainly not a friendly laugh. A chorus of low, distorted chuckles echoed across the chasm, bouncing off the far wall like something unseen was mocking them.

Arctic nearly launched himself backward. “NOPE. NOT DOING THIS. NOT TODAY.”

I nudged him gently but firmly. “It’s okay. We’re together. And…” I looked behind us. “I’m not sure the alternative is any better.

“Maybe it’s happy we’re here?” Gravity attempted to interject hope, but it felt rather flat with the laughter still echoing.

“It does not sound happy,” Arctic hissed, flattening his ears.

Khaos cocked his head. “Maybe it’s imitating us? That’s what the pictures seem to say.”

Arctic snorted, “What, like it’ll yell back at me?” He let out a short scream to test it.

The void screamed back, exactly his tone but deeper and angrier.

He squeaked and hid behind me, his head low in fright.

“Yeah, exactly like that,” Khaos replied dryly, rolling his eyes.

Gravity swallowed hard. “So if we shout, it shouts harder? If we whisper, what, it whispers creepier? This is kind of a nightmare. Especially because that minty moss is too hard to reach, but it looks really good…” She whimpered softly, staring at the moss on the walls of the pit.

I took a deep breath and stepped onto the bridge beside Khaos. “It’s fine, we can handle this. We just need to cross slowly and quietly. No sudden noises.”

Arctic nodded frantically. “Quiet, I can do quiet. I’m great at quiet, I’m basically silen-”

The bridge echoed him at quadruple the volume. QUIET QUIET QUIET.

Daydream shoved her mane into Arctic’s mouth. Khaos closed his eyes briefly, holding in a sigh, as if he were praying for patience.

“Everyone follow us,” I said softly. “Exactly at the same time, don’t break the cadence. Hopefully if we all are one sound, then the chamber won’t echo too much. I really don’t want to find out what might be down there sleeping.”

We moved forward, hooves tapping a measured, march-like pattern. Arctic clamped his jaw shut and followed reluctantly. Gravity tiptoed, trying not to breathe loudly. Daydream floated along beside Arctic, her mane still caught in his mouth.

The further they walked across the bridge, the more the echoes twisted. Soft breaths became heavy. Light hoofsteps returned as gallops. I could swear I heard something crawling along the underside of the bridge, but I didn’t look.

Arctic whimpered, the void returning it as a shout.

Gravity inhaled sharply. “I think something touched my tail!” The echo came back like a roar, TAIL TAIL TAIL!

The bridge lurched and stone cracked slightly under Gravity’s hind hoof, a thin fissure shooting across the walkway. She panicked, scuttling sideways, her hooves clattering. The echo was almost overwhelming and the bridge heaved.

Khaos snapped, “Arctic, on his left!”

Arctic didn’t think. He lunged, pressing his shoulder into Gravity’s side just as the stone beneath them buckled. Gravity squealed as the fissure widened but Arctic shoved with everything he had, teeth clenched, pushing him away from the crack.

Together, they jumped onto solid footing just as a chunk of bridge fell away behind them, dropping into the abyss with no sound at all.

I wished I could ask if everyone was okay, but I knew the sound would be distorted into pure fear. So we kept moving, slowly, carefully, and as silently as possible. At last, after what felt like an eternity, the far end rose into view, solid stone. A safe platform.

The moment all five of us crossed the threshold, the bridge went silent. The humming ceased and the air felt still again, heavy but harmless.

I let out a relieved laugh. “We did it.”

Arctic collapsed onto the stone floor. “Never again. Never. Again.”

Khaos lifted his head, eyes narrowing at the hallway ahead. “And we passed. Which means it’s preparing for the next test.”

Arctic groaned. “Of course it is.”

“Then we’ll face it. Together. Just like this one,” I said, fighting to keep my voice steady.

Gravity perked a little. “Do you think the next test has snacks?”

Arctic stared at him. “Gravity, if there is food in this maze, it’s probably alive.”

“Even better!”

Khaos sighed the sigh of someone regretting his life choices.

But the next corridor was already shifting open, inviting us into whatever waited next, and with Aska still somewhere ahead, we had no choice but to continue.