The three of us reacted at the same time.
We dropped the beasts from our backs and stepped apart, weapons raised. My fingers tightened around my sword as I shifted into a guarded stance. Vaela lifted her bow despite her exhaustion, and Charlie's palms flickered faintly with restrained fire. The serpent's massive head still blocked our path, its yellow eye fixed on us without blinking.
For a tense heartbeat, none of us moved.
Then the serpent's massive body shifted.
The sound of scales dragging across torn earth reached my ears as its enormous tail lifted from the ground. It rose slowly, curling back toward its battered coils. The movement was heavy and deliberate, not sudden or violent, yet it made my muscles tighten all the same. I braced myself, half expecting the tail to snap forward and crush us where we stood.
Vaela adjusted her grip on her bow. Charlie's fingers twitched with restrained fire.
But the tail did not strike.
Instead, it hovered for a brief second above us, then descended with surprising care. The massive limb lowered something large and round between us, placing it gently upon the disturbed forest floor.
The egg.
The massive, scaled egg settled onto the forest floor with a dull, solid thud directly in front of me. The serpent withdrew its tail afterward, leaving the egg there as though it had intentionally placed it at my feet.
All three of us froze.
For a moment, the forest seemed silent again.
The serpent did not hiss. It did not bare its fangs. It simply stared at us with its one remaining eye. The scarred side of its face remained dark and sealed, the burned lid unmoving. There was no hostility in its gaze and no immediate threat.
Then, without another sound, it turned.
Its massive body dragged across the torn earth as it began to retreat, scales scraping over shattered branches and splintered trunks. The once imposing creature moved far more slowly now. Each motion seemed weighted, labored, as though every inch forward demanded effort. Blood darkened parts of its cracked shell, and its wounded side dipped slightly with each glide.
It did not look back.
It simply slithered between the broken trees, its long form weaving through the wreckage of the battlefield until the forest swallowed it whole. The rustling of leaves grew fainter. The tremor of its passing faded.
We stood there in silence, watching the space where it had vanished, as if expecting it to return at any moment.
Only when the last sound of its movement disappeared did I realize I had been holding my breath. I exhaled slowly, my chest finally loosening.
Then my gaze dropped.
The egg rested quietly at our feet.
It was nearly as tall as my stomach, its surface patterned with faint scales that shimmered subtly under the filtered light. Even up close, it carried a strange presence, almost warm despite the cool air around us.
I glanced at Vaela, still half expecting the serpent to return and reclaim what it had left behind. "Do you think it offered us its egg as a reward for saving it?"
She kept her eyes on the broken treeline for a few seconds longer, as if making sure the beast was truly gone. Only then did she look down at the egg between us. Her expression softened slightly, and she gave a slow nod. "Skra-think… yes."
I crouched carefully, ignoring the dull ache in my head, and placed my palm against the egg's surface. It was firm beneath my touch, its shell patterned with faint, scale-like ridges that resembled the serpent's own armor. To my surprise, warmth seeped into my skin. Not heat like fire, but a steady, living warmth. It felt… alive.
"Do you think we can take this to the village?" I asked quietly, still studying the intricate patterns that curved along its surface.
Vaela folded her arms, thinking. After a brief pause, she nodded again. "Yes. But skra-need permission."
That made sense. Bringing a serpent's egg into the village without approval would cause chaos. I straightened slowly and let out a measured breath. "We can ask Elder Thryssa. After everything that happened, we cannot just leave it here."
Charlie gave a soft hum of agreement from behind me, his eyes scanning the forest one more time before returning to the egg.
The egg looked manageable from a distance, but the moment I wrapped both arms around it and attempted to lift, I understood its true weight. It was much heavier than I expected. My muscles strained as I hoisted it against my chest.
For a second, I almost faltered.
But I steadied myself and adjusted my grip. Slowly, carefully, we began making our way back toward the village.
The journey felt longer than usual. Every step reminded me of the exhaustion still lingering in my body. My head throbbed faintly from overusing my ability, and the egg's weight pressed into my arms relentlessly. Vaela walked beside me, alert despite her fatigue, while Charlie remained slightly behind, scanning our surroundings.
By the time the shimmering barrier of the village came into view, my arms burned.
The entrance opened as we approached. The guards stationed near the gate stared openly at the sight of me carrying the enormous egg. Their brows lifted in visible surprise, but they did not question us. Perhaps the state of our torn clothes and bloodied weapons explained enough.
They pushed the gate open and stepped aside, allowing us to pass into the village without interference.
Once inside, Vaela and Charlie carried the hunted beasts toward the submission area. I turned in a different direction, adjusting the egg's weight and heading toward Elder Thryssa's home.
When I reached her door, I adjusted the weight of the egg against my arms and carefully shifted it to one side so I could free a hand. The shell was rough against my forearm, its faint scaled patterns catching the evening light. Balancing it as steadily as I could, I knocked.
Silence answered me.
I waited a few breaths, listening for movement inside, then knocked again, a little firmer this time.
Still nothing.
"Arthur?"
The voice came from behind me, warm and familiar.
I turned carefully, mindful not to let the egg slip, and saw Elder Thryssa walking along the village path toward her home. The soft rustle of her robes and the calm steadiness in her steps told me she had likely been out tending to something nearby.
I dipped my head respectfully. "Greetings, Elder."
She inclined her head in return, a faint smile touching her lips. But the moment her gaze settled on what I was holding, that smile faded into focused curiosity. Her eyes moved slowly over the egg's size, its scaled surface, the faint shimmer that ran across it.
"Explain," she said calmly.
So I did.
I told her about the mutated black beast and the serpent locked in a brutal fight. I described the egg hidden behind the serpent's battered body and how the creature had fought to protect it. I spoke of how, after the battle, the serpent had blocked our path and then, placed the egg before us.
"I would like your permission to keep it," I finished. "We cannot leave it in the forest after what happened."
She remained silent for several long seconds, her gaze moving between my face and the egg in my arms. I could almost see her thoughts turning, weighing possibilities, measuring risks. The village was not a place that welcomed unknown dangers lightly.
At last, she gave a single, decisive nod.
"You may keep it."
The tension I had been holding in my chest released all at once. Relief washed over me so strongly that I nearly sagged under the egg's weight.
"Thank you so much, Elder," I said earnestly.
A soft chuckle escaped her lips. She stepped past me and pushed open her wooden door, the hinges creaking faintly. "Come inside," she offered.
I adjusted my grip on the egg and shook my head politely. "It is fine, Elder. I will come back later. I need to settle this first."
She studied me for a brief moment, then nodded in understanding. "Very well."
I bowed once more before carefully turning away, cradling the egg securely against my chest. I could feel her eyes on my back as I walked down the path, the weight in my arms heavy but no longer burdensome.
When I reached home, my arms were trembling from the effort. I stepped beneath the great tree at the center of the house and slowly lowered the egg beside the trunk, easing it down as gently as I could.
Once it rested safely against the bark, I stepped back and examined it properly.
The scales on its surface were intricate, layered in subtle patterns that resembled the serpent's own hide. Faint lines traced across it like natural engravings. It was neither dull nor glossy, but carried a muted sheen that made it look almost alive.
I crouched beside it, studying every detail.