The glassmaker and salamander continued their trek, and soon their town appeared in their view. They expected the town to peaceful and asleep, but they were welcomed by an unwelcome mob bearing torches, spears, and pitchforks.

"Is this the witch you saw?" One angry man asked.

"Yes! We saw them seal a deal with a crystal devil in the clearing in the woods," a jealous glassmaker in the front answered.

The glassmaker wanted to explain it all, but they wouldn't listen. The salamander tried to help the glassmaker by telling the villagers of the truth, but they did not listen and called him a familiar.

The glassmaker and salamander was soon turned to flee as the mob of angry folk against witchcraft soon moved forward. The glassmaker didn't go far and was soon pinned down and captured. His clothes were getting rips, his flesh were scratched and wounded. The contents of his pockets spilled onto the floor. The glass scales and strange stone convinced the glassmaker was a witch.

The salamander was thrown to the ground, groaning with pain. The people paid it no heed; the glassmaker was the main attraction. It saw the glassmaker being beaten up by angry folk until his face swelled and orifices bled.

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The salamander could do nothing. It was tiny and weak, unfit to fight a mob. It thought of asking friend to help, but the glassmaker or itself didn't have many friends and some of them were in the mob beating him up.

The glassmaker was taken away. The people soon began to pick up the spilled pocket goods. Some scolded them from picking them up, but many were unfazed and picked some scales up. One of them picked up the stone, the glassen wyrm's egg. The person was one of the jealous glassmakers. He wore a sinister smile as he inspected the mystical stone. The salamander found it urgent to retrieve the stone from the man's hands.

The salamander bit hard into the man's ankles. The salamander's sharp teeth deep into the man's skin and drew blood. It sucked the man's life-giving blood like it was siphoning the life of a fire, trying to make as much pain as possible.

The man flinched and the dropped the glowing crystal. It shattered into three small shards and a cloud of dust. The salamander let go of the man's wound and ran for the shards. The man pressed the wound so it wouldn't bleed any further.

"The witch's familiar! It's getting away!" The man shouted. Many folk turned their heads toward the salamander.

The salamander tried to carry all three shards with it. Each shard was as long as its mouth to its throat. It held two of the shards in its mouth, and held the third with its left forelimb.

The salamander ran as a mob began to chase it. It clumsily ran and the mob easily gained on it. It had to get rid of third shard. It hid away the shard in one of the town's numerous drains.

The salamander fled up the walls, and disappeared in the shadows of the night. The villagers could not locate it anywhere, and gave up a few hours later.