The Golden Dragon's Hoard

1 - 7

"Believe something and the Universe is on its way to being changed. Because you've changed, by believing. Once you've changed, other things start to follow. Isn't that the way it works?"
― Diane Duane

Hey you guys! I know that Stray has been rather anxious getting to know those in the coven the last couple of chapters, but I swear it's going to get better. Take this chapter for example, it's rather fluffy!
Anyways, hope you guys enjoy! I started my second semester of college this week :((

Part One - Chapter Seven
"The Hopeful Little Dragon"

True to the big dragon's word, Stray's fed every single day.

He's fed a lot and multiple times. Three times a day, if not more. It's usually meat or fruit but, as days turn into a week and then two, the hatchlings slowly started to be introduced to new things. They settle heavy in his stomach at first, but nothing too uncomfortable.

Apples are his favorite though and here, he's allowed to have favorites.

Athanasius's his favorite, too, they're the best out of the trio's coven.

Oziamon is alright, funny when given the chance to be and talented when it comes to playing the guitar, but the witch's easy hold on powerful magic makes the baby dragon heavily uneasy.

Before, when he was with his old catchers, magic like that was rare.

It was hard to use, harder to control—Oziamon uses it daily, as if it was as natural as breathing. It quelled his curiosity, at least, as to why creatures like Athanasius and the phoenix would willingly tie themselves to someone.

The witch was easily as strong as them, on the same level. No witch chooses a familiar that is lesser than.

Athanasius was naturally powerful as a dragon and their aptitude for hard work and learning boosted that. The phoenix, however, was still very much a mystery.

Stray knew they had some form of creation magic—no amount of wards could deplete the scent of it pouring from their very being—but he didn't know what they did with that type of magic. He was wary of them, enough to hide most days when the spooky familiar came to visit the den.

They don't get close to the nest but it still puts the hatchling on edge a bit; he's never had a place that was his before.

Athanasius trusts them. The baby wants to too.

But it's so hard not to make them into enemies, even when they don't do anything and haven't hurt him.

He is trying, though.

He'll get there—as long as they don't do anything bad, at least.

If they do, he'll just fight them! Or have the big dragon fight them for him, they seem like they'd have a much easier time winning. Mhm, he'll just do that.

Stray is safe here. He is.

—-—-—-—

His leg is healed.

Like actually, fully healed. There's no pain, no ache. No average sliding of bone underneath torn muscle, no crunch of the splitters hitting broken bone. It's just—better.

Athanasius actually healed him.

It took weeks—blissful, warm weeks—but he's healed!

The little dragon, knowing that all three coven members' eyes are on him but not caring, cautiously presses all his weight onto the limb. He squeaks happily when he finds it doesn't hurt, wings flapping in delight as he puffs up from his space on the counter.