They’d been walking for most of the morning. Dust stuck to their boots, and the forest edge behind them gave way to flatlands littered with dried bark and brittle roots. Rell carried two of the beast eggs in a sling across his back, while Thessia handled the lighter one with care. She still hadn't said much since the canyon. He hadn’t pressed her.

  The path curved toward a town just past the ridge—smoke trails and tiled roofs poking above the horizon.

  That’s when it happened.

  Rell flinched. A faint thump. Then a crackling sound behind him. The largest egg—slate-colored with crimson webbing—was shaking violently inside the wrap.

  He dropped the sling gently, kneeling. Thessia turned sharply. “What now?”

  “Egg…” Rell muttered, squinting. “It move.”

  She knelt beside him just as the shell splintered, steam hissing from within. A long screech rang out—sharp and piercing, almost metallic.

  Crack. Snap. A tiny claw shot through the shell—black and bone-white, tipped with a faint glyph-like shimmer. Then another. Then a tail. Barbed. Writhing.

  Then came the creature.

  It unfolded itself awkwardly, still sticky with inner membrane and glowing fluid. A small lion-like body with dark fur that shimmered purple in moonlight. Wings—folded, bat-like—twitched on its back. Its eyes opened last: irises black, with burning red rings spiraling in slow motion.

  A baby manticore.

  It hissed once, then blinked—and stared straight at Rell.

  Thessia took a cautious step back. “That’s cursed.”

  “Maybe,” Rell muttered. “Maybe not.”

  The baby creature limped toward him—then stopped. Its tail flicked, wings trembled. Then, slowly, it sat. Quiet. Watching.

  Then it mimicked him.

  Rell blinked. It blinked. He leaned left. It leaned left. Then, with a soft chirp, it laid its head on his boot and closed its eyes.

  “...Okay then,” he exhaled.

  Thessia raised an eyebrow. “You have a type.”

  Rell grinned slightly. “Cute. Sharp. Dangerous. Sound like you.”

  She blushed, then turned away quickly. “Let’s just get to the town.”

  —

  The town of Vellstone was mid-sized, surrounded by tall wooden walls with runed stone worked into the gates. It was a trade stop for noble shipments and merchant caravans—quiet, clean, polite. Too polite.

  As they approached the front gate, the guards were already moving into formation. Six men. All armored. The lead wore a noble’s house sash—navy blue over silver.

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  “Halt,” the officer said.

  Rell slowed, eyes flicking between them.

  Thessia stepped forward. “Adventurer business. Passing through—”

  The officer raised a hand. “Under order of Lord Varellion, all mystical beast cargo retrieved from Canyon Route #7 is to be returned immediately. It is considered the noble house’s property.”

  Thessia scowled. “They were stolen.”

  “Recovered. During a sanctioned operation.”

  “And this one?” She nodded to the baby manticore on Rell’s shoulder. “It hatched. It chose.”

  “Then it’s doubly illegal,” the officer said coldly. “Sacred-class creatures imprinting without a licensed handler is classified under treasonous possession.”

  Rell looked at him, then back at the guards.

  His voice was flat. “Treason… for saving.”

  “For interfering in Crown-regulated taming operations.”

  He turned to Thessia. “They crazy.”

  “Very.”

  “Hand over the eggs. Or be charged as accomplices to terrorism,” the officer said. “You too, Miss Thessia. Guild records show you were assigned to escort this man. That makes you complicit.”

  She didn’t move.

  Neither did Rell.

  Then the manticore cub growled—a sound deeper than its throat should’ve made. The air shimmered around it.

  One of the guards flinched. “It’s—channeling magic!”

  “Stand down!” the officer barked.

  He stepped forward, hand glowing with a binding glyph.

  And Thessia punched him in the face.

  The officer crumpled backward, nose broken, spell fizzling.

  “Run,” she said to Rell.

  He didn’t wait.

  They darted through the left side gate, weaving through startled villagers and wagons, the cub clinging to Rell’s shoulder like a living cape.

  Shouts rose behind them. Whistles. Sigils burst in the air as guards summoned reinforcements.

  Rell ducked through a tailor’s shop and out the side window. Thessia followed, cloak wrapped tight.

  They didn’t stop until they hit the back alleys near the merchant quarter.

  The cub chirped once. Then curled into Rell’s hood and slept.

  Rell looked at Thessia. “Still crazy?”

  “Very. But maybe worth it.”

  They disappeared into the shadows of the city—eggs still in hand, a secret war unfolding behind every brick.