Zane crossed the stone bridge and stared up at the grand mansion ringed by bright water. He had come to save animals, not admire wealth. Hunters were closing in on the last endangered creatures of Blackbriar, and he still had no land. The old man inside claimed he could fix that with a single check. The heavy doors opened, and Zane felt something strange the moment he stepped inside. On a velvet stand sat a stone-crusted egg, cracked with patterns too careful to be natural. "What is that?" Zane asked. The old man smiled. "A dragon's egg." Zane shook his head. "Dragons are stories. Nothing more." The man reached into his coat and set a shimmering scale on the table. Blue and green light danced across Zane's face. "They were hunted for these. Skinned until none were left in the open. But some still hide." He slid a contract forward. "I will fund your sanctuary in full. Every acre. Every fence. On one condition. You find them. You protect them." Zane stared at the scale, then at the egg, then at the pen. His sanctuary was for real animals, not myths. But the hunters would not wait, and no one else was offering. He signed. The ink dried, and his promise was no longer only to the creatures he knew.