Chapter 9: A Lie for Their Little Star
Morning light spilled through the cracked greenhouse panes in soft yellow stripes. Zephyr crouched beside the nest crate, lacing a tiny canvas harness around Star's chest and wings. The hatchling wriggled, silver eyes bright, tail flicking across the straw.
"Easy," Zephyr murmured. "The straps keep you close in public. No flying off my shoulder."
Star chirped, clearly proud of his new gear. Fenna knelt nearby, stitching green cloth into a pouch. "This sling clips under your cloak," she said, holding it up so Zephyr could see. "From outside, it looks like you're carrying herb samples."
Zephyr slipped the sling over his ribcage and settled Star inside. A faint glow leaked through the fabric, but when he folded his caretaker coat the light disappeared. Satisfied, he exhaled. "Today we test our story."
Fenna's smile faltered. "Inspection is at third bell. Wren will be there—plus three instructors from Beast Theory. Are you ready?"
He forced a calm nod. "I have to be." Inside, nerves twisted. The Bound Beast System reminded him every hour: Secrecy countdown—six days remaining. Detection penalty—bond strain. He would not let that happen.
They rehearsed the story once more.
Beast Name: Star
Species Claim: Hollowback Hatchkin, an ancient field-scout creature.
Function: Detects subsurface tremors and mana leaks in ruins.
Reason for rarity: Egg discovered fossilized; assumed sterile.
Power level: "Registered D-Rank support, no combat."
Fenna added tiny chalk marks on the sling: false rune sigils of a hypothetical breeder guild. "If someone looks, they'll think Star was catalogued centuries ago."
Zephyr practiced his lines, voice steady but humble: "I found the egg half-buried and almost dead; it hatched by chance while I provided warmth." He repeated until words felt dull—safe.
Third bell rang. Students gathered on the training green where frost still clung to grass tips. Tables stood in a row; strict Instructor Marlen held a quill to record beasts. Wren watched with arms folded. Callen Dros loitered close, Bristle Fang at heel, smirking each time a nervous first-year presented a mouse or coil viper.
Zephyr queued with caretakers—not full tamers. Sweat cooled under his coat. Star shifted but remained quiet, lulled by Incubation Aura.
His turn came. Marlen barely glanced up. "Name?"
"Zephyr Valorian."
"Rank?"
"F." Around him, a few snickers. He kept eyes forward.
"Beast to declare?"
Zephyr drew a breath and slipped Star's head into view. The hatchling peeped once, more curious than shy.
Murmurs rippled.
"What in blazes is that?" Callen blurted.
Zephyr kept voice level. "A Hollowback Hatchkin, sir. Non-combat support beast used by ruin surveyors in the old empire."
Marlen squinted. "Egg species? Ridiculous. No beasts hatch from eggs anymore."
Zephyr opened a folded parchment—Fenna's careful script. "Historical citation from Pre-Collapse Bestiary, page 114. Eggs were rare but recorded. Hatchkins went extinct after the mana drought."
Wren stepped forward, eyes sharp. "Support beast, you claim? May I?"
Zephyr's heart thudded. "Of course, Chief Medic."
She brushed a thumb over Star's head. No heat shock, no flame—just a content chirp. She examined the chalk sigils, the dull harness, the docile posture. Finally, she nodded. "Mana signature is low. No threat."
Marlen scribbled on his ledger. "Rank D provisional. Keep it registered, caretaker. Next."
Zephyr bowed, stepping aside. Callen glowered but said nothing.
A silent cheer exploded in Zephyr's chest. He ducked behind a shed, loosened the sling, and let Star nuzzle his chin. "Good work, little scout."
System text winked:
Stealth Check Passed. Secrecy counter—five days. Bond stability +1.
That evening, Callen cornered Zephyr near the hay loft. "You expect us to believe that thing's harmless?" He jabbed a finger at Star's hidden pouch. "I saw its eyes. Looks like a predator."
"It is not," Zephyr said, keeping tone gentle. "It senses vibrations. That's all."
Callen's Bristle Fang growled, hackles bristling. The courtyard emptied around them. Callen smirked. "Why not prove it? Let your pet challenge mine."
Star quivered inside the sling. Zephyr felt a ripple of draconic pride flash through the bond—a desire to stand tall. He soothed it silently. Not yet. Aloud, he said, "He's only four days old." He turned away, heart pounding.
Callen's laughter followed him, but no one blocked his path. Crisis avoided—for now.
Over the next three nights, Zephyr and Fenna transformed the herb cellar into a training grotto. Clay pots became obstacle pillars; straw bales formed target rings.
Day Eight evening:
Star chased glowing dust motes Zephyr created by sprinkling mana-touched flour. Each catch rewarded with a dab of moonleaf paste.
Motor skill rising. Wings coordination +5 %.
Day Nine dawn:
Fenna taught Zephyr a root-lull chant. They harmonized their voices; Star swayed, storing rhythm. The chant steadied Zephyr's Dragon Sense, extending range to nine meters. He could now "see" footsteps on cellar stairs long before knocks reached wood.
Day Nine sunset:
Star attempted first true lift. Wings buzzed; he rose half a meter, wobbled, flopped into Zephyr's arms. Triumphant chirps filled the chamber. Fenna clapped and kissed Zephyr's cheek by reflex. Both froze, laughing, blush rising brighter than brazier coals.
Near midnight, a gold screen shone.
Hollow Training Program complete.
Host Endurance +2
Star Attribute Gain: Agility +3
New micro-skill unlocked: Flicker Glide (short burst hover)
Zephyr scratched Star's sleek chin. "See? You're clever." The hatchling chirped agreement.
But the system displayed one more notice:
Next Growth Requirement:
• First external mana intake (dragon flame) within 72 hours.
Failure: growth delay.
Zephyr frowned. "Flame? He has none yet." He paced. "We need safe fire mana—small, pure."
Fenna bit her lip. "What about the Phoenix Lamp in the apothecary? The flame is mild but high-quality."
"Stolen lamp means trouble," he said. "But borrowing for minutes… maybe."
They planned in whispers: Wren left her office after final rounds; the lamp then sat unguarded. A window opened into the corridor from the herb garden.
The next night frost glittered under half moon. Zephyr slipped through greenhouse rows while Fenna kept watch. At the window he eased inside. The Phoenix Lamp—crystal sphere cradling a perpetual orange ember—hung above the main desk. Papers rustled in a draft. No footsteps.
He reached up, heartbeat hammering. The Dragon Sovereign Bond pulsed, urging caution, courage.
Fingers closed on the warm glass. He lifted free, exhaled slowly, then turned—face-to-face with Wren Albrecht.
For one frozen second no one spoke. Wren's violet-lined coat rustled as she folded arms. "Care to explain, caretaker?"
Zephyr's mind raced. He bowed. "Chief Medic, I need a pure flame sample. My beast's metabolism stalls without a controlled mana source. I intended to borrow, not steal."
Wren's gaze flicked to the sling where Star hid. Small silver eyes blinked back.
Her expression softened a hair. "The old Hollowbacks did consume trace phoenix fire when young. Books say as much."
Zephyr held breath.
She took the lamp, unscrewed the top, and passed it back. "Five minutes, then return the core. And Valorian—no more midnight borrowing. Ask."
Relief flooded him. "Yes, ma'am. Thank you."
He strode outside. Fenna sagged with relief when he emerged.
In the cellar, Zephyr unscrewed the lamp's lid. A ribbon of orange fire floated like silk. Star sniffed, eyes round. Zephyr extended the ember. "Gently."
Star inhaled. Flame bent, spiraled, and vanished down small jaws. Scales glowed, wings fluttering with sudden strength.
System chimes cascaded.
External Mana Intake — Success
Star Attribute Bonus:
• Fire Affinity awakened (minor)
• HP regeneration doubled
Host Attribute: Mana Capacity +3
Bond Trait: Warm Share — Host immune to minor cold.
Star burped a smoke ring; Fenna giggled. "He likes spicy food."
Zephyr cradled Star, heart soaring. "You did well."
They re-sealed the lamp and Zephyr returned it to Wren's office just before lights-out. No alarm sounded.
Five days passed. Star's wings strengthened; flight bursts lasted seconds. Bond deepened; Zephyr sensed emotions—hunger, joy, mischief. Dragon Sense radius stretched to fifteen meters. Infirmary chores felt lighter; he even caught Callen staring at Star in passing, curiosity tempered by caution.
Yet tension brewed. Rumors spread of Guild envoys traveling north, investigating "wild egg legends." Zephyr and Fenna exchanged worried looks whenever whispers reached their ears. Time was running short for secrecy.
But for now, fate held its breath.
On the tenth night since hatching, Zephyr and Fenna carried Star to the observation tower again. Snow had melted; the stone platform was damp but clear. Stars glittered above, matching the motes in Star's scales.
The hatchling hopped onto the parapet, wings spread. Wind lifted feathers, claws steady on stone. He leapt—glided five meters—landed on Zephyr's shoulder and trilled triumph.
Zephyr's laughter echoed across roof tiles. Fenna joined, eyes shining.
From this high perch Lowmoor looked small, its lamplights flickering like fireflies. Beyond lay dark hills, and beyond them kingdoms that still believed dragons were myths.
Zephyr gazed east, where dawn would rise in hours. He whispered a new promise to the cold air:
"One day we'll fly farther than any map, Star. And no one will call us weak again."
The hatchling answered with a soft roar no louder than a cat's purr—but it held the echo of ancient skies.
The night folded around them, alive with stars—one in the heavens, one on Zephyr's shoulder, and one beating in his chest, bright enough to burn legends anew.