[Comm (Coins)] (4) Hoofprints

The glow brightened, drawing them more urgently now, as though the maze knew something important and was ushering them toward it. Or something it wanted them to face.

Khaos was the first to sense it, and I noticed his ears twitching. A faint vibration in the stone beneath our feet, though different from anything previous.

“Are we getting close?” I asked quietly. Khaos shook his head, walking faster, his face tightening with each step.

The hallway narrowed before opening into a vast, circular chamber with low ceilings. Hundreds of halls branched off of every wall. And covering the floor were hundreds of hoofprints.

No, they were thousands. Tens of thousands. Layered and overlapping in every direction, like a sea of frozen tracks. Some were faint while others glowed with soft gold or icy blue. The spiral-carved stone beneath was hidden entirely beneath a tapestry of hoof-marks.

I stared in shock and confusion. How were we supposed to choose which hall led us to Aska?

Arctic shook himself nervously. “So… what are we supposed to do here?”

Gravity trotted in, eyes wide. “This is AMAZING. Do you think any of these horses dropped snacks while passing through?”

“No, there aren’t any snacks,” I sighed gently. “I think we’re supposed to know Aska’s footprints well enough to track them, despite everything else. Maybe it’s a test of how well we know each other?”

Khaos dropped his head, gaze sweeping the floor. “There’s too many to realistically follow. We would be stuck here for years.”

My chest tightened as I stared down. “Okay, so maybe tracking him isn’t the point. Are there any other indicators of paths?”

“Look! There’s berries on this wall,” Gravity’s voice came from a far exit. “Ooo and there’s a carrot on this one, and an apple on this one…” Her voice became quieter and quieter as she moved further away.

“They’re signs,” Daydream observed. “Each door has a carving on it. Perhaps if we figure out what they all are, we can deduce which one would have interested Aska the most?”

We all looked at Khaos. After all, he knew the other stallion best.

“Not food,” he said decidedly. 

“Well that rules out at least half of them!” Gravity cantered up to them. “Ugh, that was exhausting. I’ve done my part. Now I’m just going to be here in the middle while you guys figure it out.”

“Okay, what about animals?” I asked Khaos.

“Not really an animal lover,” Khaos replied. “He likes things that are… undefined, I suppose is a good word.”

“Oh, I saw a couple of those,” Gravity interrupted helpfully. “Like, weird shapes? Yeah, there’s a bunch of those all at the far end, I think.”

“Let’s go that way, then!” Arctic began to trot across the chamber and we all followed. Gravity groaned and huffed, but followed at a sedate walk anyway.

As we crossed the chamber, there were fewer and fewer footprints which overlapped. Distinct tracks began to stick out, but still not quite enough to differentiate between Aska’s and others.

Khaos’s eyes swept the floor, moving with predatory calm. He often led them through snowstorms and forests, or tracked predators so we could avoid them. He knew the rhythm of Aska’s stride and what his hoofprints would look like.

And there, half-hidden beneath larger, glowing tracks, was a sharp print. Light. Narrow, yet still large. Pressed harder at the toe than the heel.

My breath hitched at the same time as Khaos’. It was Aska, there was no doubt. Khaos stopped onto the print and it flared brighter, then a series of them made a bright trail forward.

Arctic lit up. “You found his trail!”

Then, the trail split into three, shimmering across the floor. Three exits illuminated.

“Noooooo not more choices—” Arctic whined, dropping his head.

I frowned. “Which one is real?”

Daydream drifted to Khyova’s side, nose brushing close to the prints. “Feel them.”

Khaos stiffened. “Feel… what?”

“You know which ones are real,” Daydream nudged his shoulder.

Khaos hesitated. He didn’t like intuition, he liked facts. We all knew that. But he lowered his muzzle to the nearest of the three trails and spent time studying each carefully.

“This one,” he said. “It’s subtle but unmistakable, but the other hoofprints are just… off.”

Gravity leaned over his shoulder and eyed them. “I don’t see a difference,” she nickered skeptically.

“Of course you don’t,” Arctic muttered. “But you can tell the difference between ripe and unripe nightshade berries.”

But before we could argue any more, the chamber reacted. The two false trails erupted into shimmering light, swirling upward into ghostly horse-shapes, flickering illusions that bolted across the chamber before dissolving.

Khaos studied the prints he knew were real and I saw panic and fear fill his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” I moved close and whinnied quietly.

“He was running,” Khaos muttered. “Something or someone scared him. We have to follow quickly.” And then he was running, following the prints at a canter.

No one argued, not even Gravity, as we took off after him, trailing Khaos as he led us toward the exit which still glowed faintly. It led to a hallway with a low ceiling, and we had to keep dipping our heads so we wouldn’t scrape our ears against the top.

The further we went, the more erratic the prints became. They were uneven, paired with drag marks, or at one point, staggered sideways as though Aska had slipped.

“He was evidently scared,” Arctic whispered, shivering slightly.

Khaos didn’t speak, but his muscles ripped with tension.

Then finally, the last footprint at the end of the hall flared a bright gold, stamping itself into the stone with a surge of heat and emotion so sharp I felt it in my chest.

It was fear but determination at the same time.

And I don’t think she was alone. 

A door opened in the wall beyond, and whatever waited inside that new corridor… was the reason Aska had run.