The Legacy of the Magizoologist

The forest seemed darker than before, the shadows stretching long and deep as Newt and Jamie ventured into its heart. The air was thick with tension, every rustle of leaves and crack of twigs setting Newt's nerves on edge.

Jamie walked a few steps ahead, his movements purposeful yet cautious. He occasionally paused, tilting his head as though listening to a voice only he could hear.

"It's close," Jamie whispered after a while. "I can feel it."

Newt's grip tightened on his wand. His eyes scanned the underbrush, searching for any sign of movement. Suddenly, Jamie pointed to a cluster of brambles.

"There!"

Newt approached slowly, crouching low to peer into the thicket. His breath caught as he spotted the foal. It was smaller than he'd expected, no taller than Jamie's chest, with thin, delicate legs and wide, frightened eyes. Its black coat shimmered faintly in the dim light, a ghostly beauty that took Newt's breath away.

The foal trembled as Newt extended a hand. "It's all right, little one," he said gently. "We're here to help."

Jamie knelt beside him, his voice soft and reassuring. "Your mother's safe. She's waiting for you. Let us take you to her."

For a moment, the foal remained frozen, its instincts urging it to flee. But then it took a hesitant step forward, its gaze fixed on Jamie.

Newt marveled at the trust the boy inspired. As the foal emerged from the brambles, Jamie reached out, his hand brushing its neck. The creature visibly relaxed, pressing its head against Jamie's shoulder.

"Good," Newt said quietly, relief washing over him. "Now, let's get it back to the case before—"

A sudden crack echoed through the forest, the sound of a branch snapping underfoot. Newt's head snapped up, his wand raised. Jamie froze, his arms protectively around the foal.

From the shadows emerged a figure cloaked in black, their wand drawn and their face obscured by a hood.

"Hand over the Thestral," the figure demanded, their voice cold and sharp.

Newt stepped in front of Jamie and the foal, his wand steady. "I don't think so."

The figure laughed, a chilling sound that sent shivers down Jamie's spine. "You can't protect them forever, Scamander. These creatures belong to us now."

Newt's jaw tightened. "Magical creatures belong to no one. Least of all people like you."

The figure raised their wand, but before they could cast a spell, a deafening screech filled the air. From above, a massive shape descended, its wings spread wide and its golden feathers glinting even in the dim light.

"Tempest!" Jamie cried in astonishment.

The Thunderbird landed between Newt and the cloaked figure, its eyes blazing with fury. Lightning crackled around its form, illuminating the forest in bursts of electric light.

The figure faltered, their confidence wavering. "You think this will stop us?" they hissed. But as Tempest reared back, the full force of its stormy power unleashed, the figure vanished into the darkness, retreating into the forest.

Newt exhaled deeply, lowering his wand. "Well done, Tempest," he said, his voice filled with gratitude.

Jamie looked up at the Thunderbird, his expression a mix of awe and relief. "He said he couldn't let them hurt us."

Newt placed a hand on Jamie's shoulder. "And he didn't. Let's get the foal home."