One had to wonder where such bitterness stemmed from.
"I don't know much about fate, Pandero. But I do know that fishing is much more fun."
Ariana sighed, wiping sweat from her brow during a brief pause. It was clear she hadn't chosen this path— she was simply enduring it. Even so, she never slacked off in her training.
"Fate is a mischievous little imp," Pandero murmured. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Ian, who had deliberately taken a longer route around the square and was now peeking out from behind the old post office.
"Your sword's edge should rest against his throat…" Pandero whispered, making a shushing gesture before slipping off to sneak up on Ian.
His plan was simple— tap the flat of his sword playfully against Ian's neck in greeting.
However.
"This is how wizards say hello!"
To his surprise, Ian had anticipated the move. In a split second, he crouched low and twisted, executing a swift counter-maneuver that completely caught Pandero off guard.
"Ah!"
Pandero let out a startled yelp, his face contorting as he inhaled sharply. The sword tumbled from his grip as he staggered backward and landed unceremoniously on the ground, his face flushing a deep shade of crimson.
"Looks like Ian's just reeled in a big one," Ariana quipped, stepping forward to observe Pandero, who was now sprawled on the cobblestones, his dignity in shambles.
"He cheated!" Pandero's voice rang with indignant protest.
"Fishing really is fun," Ian said with an impish grin.
Perhaps this was fate's way of answering, Pandero. It clearly doesn't wish to be severed by you." Ariana's serious remark struck a blow to Pandero's pride.
"..."
Pandero wanted to retort.
Ian had already raised his camera to capture the moment of his humiliation.
"What is that?"
The sudden burst of light from the flash left Pandero momentarily stunned.
"Is it a camera? It's so small now!" Ariana peered curiously at the device in Ian's hands, clearly familiar with something invented centuries ago.
"Yes, Muggle technology has made them even smaller. I just wonder if wizards can keep up with the times." As he spoke, Ian snapped a picture of Ariana.
Compared to the delightfully embarrassing shot of Pandero, Ariana's turned out less impressive— mostly because Ian's photography skills were lacking.
Unless you were a professional, it was difficult to develop decent photography skills without ever having a girlfriend.
"Let's take one together."
Seeing that Pandero had finally regained his breath, Ian reached out and pulled him up. Wrapping an arm around each friend, he called out, "Say 'Cheese!'" before pressing the shutter.
The photograph developed slowly.
Ian's bright grin shone through, while Ariana's expression captured a rushed yet natural smile— far more composed than Pandero's utterly bewildered face.
Having likely never encountered a camera before, Pandero looked so thoroughly confused that he resembled a startled Neville Longbottom— creating a warm yet amusing scene of the living and the departed together.
A rare moment indeed.
"Brilliant! Everyone's expressions are perfect!" Ian habitually shook the printed photo, satisfied that it had captured precisely what it needed to.
"You call this perfect?" Pandero scowled at his disheveled self in the image, clearly displeased.
"Here, have an egg and don't be mad." Ian fished out three Winged Serpent eggs, handing one to Pandero, since Morgan had strictly forbidden him from giving Pandero any sweets.
"Winged Serpent?"
Pandero's eyes gleamed with interest.
"I plan to hatch them here." Ian took the opportunity to pass the remaining snacks to Ariana. Giving Pandero an egg wasn't just a peace offering— he had a clever scheme in mind. Adventurers often made excellent magical creature handlers, and having a free hatching assistant sounded rather convenient.
"You can't hatch eggs here; life does not belong in this place." Pandero shook his head, his words hitting Ian like a rogue Bludger. His plan for an endless Winged Serpent dynasty had crumbled before it could even begin.
"But the Golden Apple tree grew here, didn't it?" Ian clung to a sliver of hope, prompting a contemplative look from Pandero.
"Yes, the Golden Apple is indeed a bizarre anomaly." He examined the Winged Serpent egg in his palm. "Perhaps we should plant these eggs in the ground?"
What a preposterous notion!
"Eggs are meant to be hatched!" Ian was utterly exasperated.
Yet Pandero remained unfazed, still eager to experiment. "How would you know if you don't try?"
With that, he darted off, grabbing a nearby shovel.
No wonder he was a swordsman; his reflexes were alarmingly fast. Had Ian not lunged forward to snatch the tool from his hands, the three Winged Serpent eggs would have been buried like turnips in the soil.
"Perhaps we should focus on hatching them first…"
Ian had learned not to take Pandero's words at face value. Once a legend, perhaps, but these days, the swordsman's memory seemed to be as patchy as his common sense.
"Trust me, life can't be born here." As he spoke, Pandero strode toward a nearby tree, deftly climbing up to retrieve a bird's egg from a nest.
"I've had this egg for years. Do you see any signs of it hatching?" He held up the egg, its shell traced with fiery red patterns— clearly something unusual, something rare.
"But you just took that from a nest." Ariana, seated on a worn wooden bench and nibbling on a chocolate biscuit, eyed him with a mixture of suspicion and amusement.
"I leave it with the birds to hatch for me. What do you expect me to do— sit on it myself?" Pandero scoffed, handing the egg to Ian while, in one swift movement, swiping the two Winged Serpent eggs from his grasp. "You might have luck hatching them in your world, but for now, these are mine to experiment with."
With that, he grabbed a shovel and marched determinedly toward the great oak at the town's center.
"What kind of egg is this?" Ian weighed the warm shell in his hands, a strange sensation prickling against his palm. Then, he noticed something— on the back of his hand, the faint markings Ariana had drawn earlier glowed softly, just as they had when he'd touched Fawkes.
He knew the answer before he even spoke.
"Phoenix."
Ariana leaned in, eyes widening with curiosity, still clutching her half-eaten biscuit. "Is that really a Phoenix egg?"
She sounded doubtful— but then again, few had ever seen a Phoenix egg, even among wizards.
"Yes, a Phoenix," Pandero confirmed. "I've been trying to hatch it for ages, but it's been stubborn. I just thought... well, imagine a creature you could eat, and it would come back to life— an endless food source."
"But after all this time, it still won't hatch."
Pandero was already digging furiously at the base of the oak.
Ian rolled his eyes. "The dead don't need to eat, you know."
Pandero barely glanced up. "That doesn't mean we can't eat," he replied matter-of-factly, scooping up another pile of soil at an alarming speed.
Ariana sighed, shaking her head. "Maybe it refuses to hatch because you want to eat it. Phoenixes are clever creatures, you know."
Ian, meanwhile, was staring at the ridiculous sight before him. "Are you seriously going to plant the Winged Serpent eggs?"
Without hesitation, Pandero set the eggs in the freshly dug hole and began covering them with soil.
"Nobody's ever tried this before," he said, shoveling with conviction. "So we can't assume common rules apply. Even if it fails, it's just a bit of wasted time."
"And time," he added with a smirk, "is the one thing we've got plenty of."
There was no arguing with him— not when he said things like that with such certainty.
"You win."
Ian groaned, running a hand through his hair. Trading a few Winged Serpent eggs for a Phoenix egg wasn't exactly a loss, but he wasn't sure if he'd even be able to take it with him— if this egg, born in a place between life and death, could even exist in the real world.
Pandero seemed to sense his unease. "Phoenixes are different from other creatures," he said. "They're born of magic, not bound by the same rules as wizards or ghosts. They pass between life and death freely."
"But," he added, his gaze lingering on the egg, "this Phoenix was born here. It may not be like the ones you're familiar with. You'd be a fool to expect it to hatch the way you expect."
Ian arched an eyebrow.
(To Be Continued…)
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