2 - 10

"Better to die fighting for freedom then be a prisoner all the days of your life."

― Bob Marley

no message today, just a little sad that this book is coming to an end

Part Two - Chapter Ten

"The Dragon's Loved Witch"

It's night time when Stray can finally shift back.

For the first time in months, Stray's sleep is dreamless. It's odd, waking up and doing so slowly instead of having the fading realization that his physical body is starting to come to. More than odd, though, he's grateful that he wakes up without any pain pulling on his nerves.

His wings are soaked with the warm buzz of the aftereffect of magic, skin tingling wherever it had been healed.

He could shift without risking anything, with ease.

Stretching, Stray looked around, realizing that most of his coven was asleep—Ras and Oziamon in their tent, Athanasius shifted and curled around the voidwalker and him to keep watch.

It was a peaceful night, quiet and cool. The stars above them were bright and the only thing that offered any help to see was how the moon looked down upon them all.

He could barely make out his own paws underneath him.

Despite this, the youngling could tell that Kaigon was still awake.

It was this nagging feeling in the back of his mind, one that let him know they're awake, let him feel as they press up against his mental barriers; a silent reassurance of I'm here.

I'm here, too, Stray pressed back into it, an acknowledgement.

It's easy to slide off of his dad's massive paw and onto the makeshift bed his witch made for themself, easy to slip under their covers and wrap his arms—arms because he could shift, because he has his voice back—around their waist.

Kaigon doesn't startle, doesn't protest, but they suck in a heavy breath, hands hovering before they lightly grip onto his shoulders, easing them together until they are laid side by side, legs tangled and his head under their chin.

He could feel the other's heartbeat under his ear, hearing it pounding away.

The witch hums, fingers running through his hair, and despite all the anxiety building in his chest, Stray relaxes into it.

"Kaigon?" He whispers—and isn't that something, the ability to say their name?

The ability to be here, with them. To hold them, to breathe the same air, to feel the way their lungs expand from where he rests his head on their chest. Fabric under fingertips, a witch in his arms, magic pressed against his own—this was everything he wanted.

"Starlight," they return the greeting, grip tightening for just a moment before relaxing.

"I miss you." It isn't a lie.

"...I miss you too."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you we were coming," Stray says, hiding his face against their collarbone, shame making his voice shake. "I was—scared."

"You thought I'd run," Kaigon reads between the lines, always able to dig down to his roots and pull out his weedy fears. "That I'd leave you again."

"I can't remember you leaving me the first time," he admits, fingers flexing against their back. "But I can't forget it all over again, Kage. I can't lose you, my heart can't take it."

"You'd survive," they sound confident but Stray—well, Stray knows they shouldn't be. "You're a survivor above all else, but you said that as if I want to leave you."

"You seemed pretty content to stay away," he grumbles.

"Because you're safer without me," Kaigon tells him, but it's something they've never agreed on, something he's never made sense of. "But you're here, you're here. " They suck in a breath, tucking their chin over his head. "How could I bear to lose you again, Star? How could I ever give this up?"

"You don't," Stray says. "You don't lose me and I don't lose you, no one gives up or gives in or runs away. We'll do it together this time, okay? Me and you."

"Together," they repeat. "Together, yeah, we can do that."

"No more forgetting?" The youngling dares to ask.

"No more forgetting," Kaigon confirms.

"Good," Stray sighs, shutting his eyes. "I hated not knowing why I loved you so much. It hurt to feel and not understand."

They're silent for a moment. "Do you know now? Why you love me, I mean."

"Of course," he yawns, turning to squish his cheek into their shoulder. "You're you, how could I not love all that I've seen?" Then, because he's feeling a bit vulnerable: "Bitch."

"Course," Kaigon snorts, shaking their head, and muttering something suspiciously like 'ruining the moment'. There's a gentle moment where neither says anything, and Stray hums. "I love you, Starlight."

"I love you, Kage."

He falls asleep for the first time in years with his voidwalker in his arms instead of in his mind—able to hold Kaigon instead of dreaming with them.

-——-——-

The first morning together is slower than usual, but not in a bad way.

Athanasius, predictably, is the first one up—Stray's used to getting up with him, and although he wakes up as soon as he hears his dad's yawn, he keeps his eyes closed and cuddles closer to his witch.

Good-comfortable, healed, yes? Atlas softly growls at him, nudging his wings gently with his big snout, and the youngling snuffles back confirmation.

After making sure his youngling is truly alright, he huffs but moves on, magic rippling a bit as he shifts back onto two legs. Stray knows that the big dragon doesn't mind that he's not going to join him in their morning routine, even if it's a break from their day-to-day life.

He's grateful for it, purring as he's able to hold his voidwalker close.

He's still pressed against Kaigon's side when the rest of his covenmates stumble out of their tent and he turns his head to face them both, bleary eyes forced open. Slowly raising his middle finger to Oziamon—who squints back to see what he's doing without the aid of his glasses—gets him the finger in return and sleepy laughter from Ras.

After that, both stretch and wander over to Athanasius, still half asleep.

It's not long until his voidwalker shifts a bit and groans, hand raising to rub at their face when they start to wake up. Their other hand brushes through his curls, arm tightening just a bit where it's wrapped around one of his shoulders, and it makes them pause for just a moment. It's as if they just realized they're holding someone else.

When Stray looks up, his witch's eyes are already on him.

Their hair, previously pushed back and neat, is now sticking up in every single direction in messy knots. A couple pieces seem to be defying gravity, pointing straight into the air.

"Hey, Kage," the golden dragon yawns, stretching his wings behind him lazily as he eyes the other's scrunched up face. "G'morning. You got bed-head, s'bad."

Kaigon laughs as if he said something funny, dimples popping out.

They lean down, cup his face in both hands, and press kiss after kiss onto his cheeks and forehead. Stray laughs too, hands raising to grasp their wrists, skin flushing under the attention until even his ears are red.

Gods, he missed them. Missed this.

"Morning," they peck his nose, causing it to wrinkle. "You're here."

"Course I am," Stray raises his hands to squish their cheeks together, just to make them even. "Where else would I be? We agreed to together, and together means forever."

"Hm, forever?" Kaigon reclaims his face and presses a kiss to his palm when they pull back, thumb brushing over his knuckles, expression almost reverent. "Yeah... forever is good."

There's a single moment of silence, both content to hold each other, each rise and fall of their chests matching—

"Hey! Oops," Oziamon pauses, eyes widening when he makes both of them jump. The witch has bed-head too, glasses askew over the bridge of his nose, clothes rumpled. There's a pause, then he's grinning sheepishly down at them, thumb pointing over their shoulder. "I'm here as a message man."

"You look ugly," Stray gleefully informs.

"I'm better looking than you, gremlin," Ozzy playfully ribs back, then turns to Kaigon, hands moving with his words. "Sorry for interrupting, I'm still tired so I didn't register that you lot were in a conversation. Uh... Ras wanted to make breakfast, but he didn't know if you were allergic to anything and didn't want to risk accidentally poisoning you. So, allergies?"

Still cautious towards the other witch, Kaigon eyes him for a moment before hesitatingly opening their mouth to respond—

"Cinnamon," Stray says, not really sure where the information came from. "They're allergic to cinnamon."

"Oh," the voidwalker whispers, turning to him, features splashed in surprise. "I didn't—you remember that?"

"Apparently?" Stray says, frowning to himself.

"Strange," they note, before shaking their head to themself, and looking back up at Oziamon. "Yeah, it's just cinnamon. Um, can you—would you tell Ras that I uh, I appreciate her making food for me?"

"Cinnamon, got it," Ozzy nods, looking like he wants to say more. "And sure."

With that, the brunet goes back to his dad's side, hunched over the fire pit, fingers twitching as he walks—in that way that Stray knows he has questions he's not asking.

Oz talks to the phoenix, peering into the boiling pot above the flames. Athanasius, who stands across from them, joins as he sorts ingredients of some kind into different piles.

The sun is rising above the trees behind them, encasing them all in a soft, golden light. It looks the same as it does at home, than it did with the old coven, but everything's so different.

Everything's... changed.

Stray watches his covenmates for a moment before turning back to his voidwalker.

"So," he says, "have you ever seen the sunrise from above the clouds?"

When Kaigon's eyes widen and they shake their head, Stray grins and stands, wings spreading a little for stability when his legs wobble at the uneven surface of their bedding.

"C'mon," he offers them a hand. "I'll show you."

His voidwalker doesn't hesitate to grab onto him and, with a beaming smile, the golden dragon pulls them up, fingers threading through theirs.

Stray is used to watching the sun with them through the window of a broken down church, half-hidden into shadows and formed by magic and a dream. It was good, then, to have those moments.

But here, in the morning light, he's never felt the sun warmer than he does with Kaigon by his side, hand clasped in his own, hearts in sync and matching smiles on their faces.

When he looks at his witch, he realizes that it doesn't matter how much he's forgotten.

They can make new memories together, they can relearn everything. He can't remember them fully but he doesn't need to—he has a whole lifetime with his voidwalker, his coven, to make up for any lost time.

No matter what happens, or how difficult adjusting will be, they'll be okay.

They fought to survive together, they fought to reunite, and they did.

They'll win the fight to be alright, to be happy, too.