previously titled beserk
A young gay witch with deadly powers on the fringe is traveling the U.S. in search of a substitute for suppressing his magic and a way to control his powers. Ezra Pierce was born into a religiously strict family with no one...
"we're not made for weeping. love endures more than the augury, more than the bones, more than the catastrophes." w o r d c o u n t : 1,214
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As Ilan explained the rules and gave him the tour, Ezra was starting to wonder why this system had never shown up in their history. The witches looked happy and were given freedoms. Everyone seemed to be working extremely well together and coexisting in utter harmony.
But prejudice always seemed to take precedence over sensibility.
Despite the fact that Diarmuid's compound was very much ahead of its time, the actual coven consisted of only Eastern witches.
"You can leave anytime during the weekend as long as you sign out and have someone with you. Whenever you want to go out I can go with you if you'd like. I don't ever really leave because no one wants to go with me. People think I'm annoying because I talk too much." Ilan explained goodnaturedly as they toured the compound.
"What?" Ezra demanded. Sure, Ilan was a little talkative but annoying? She certainly wasn't annoying. Ezra enjoyed hearing her talk. It was comforting. She could fill the awkward silences without putting any pressure on him to talk. Because he certainly wasn't in the mood to be talking about his feelings. "You're not annoying, Ilan."
Her lips twitched into a small smile. "Thank you, Ezra. But if you'd ever like me to stop talking you can tell me so. I won't be offended." She offered, running her thumb absently over the back of her hand. "Anyway, back to the tour. There are a series of jobs for you to choose from. We have our Farmers who tend to all the plants, potion ingredients, and food. I'm a Herder, we take care of the livestock, you already know about Recruiters, our Cooks work throughout the day cooking enough for everyone to eat. We have the most cooks because of how many people we have. Our Potioneers make powders and potions for the Easterns to use." She explained before coming to a stop and pushing open a pair of double doors.
It was beautiful. The entire room seemed to be the size of half the compound, with walls extending three stories to the top where the ceiling was covered in glass to allow the sun to leak through, bathing their plants in the much-needed light.
On the left half of the room were the animals. Cows, pigs, chickens, roaming around together on a fenced-in grassy area.
There were witches working and tending to the crops, their knees digging into the dirt and pulling out the weeds while others were pouring food into a long trough.
"This is where I spend my days and you might very well do the same. There's not a uniform or anything, just suggested. Shorts, tank tops, things like that. Most of the Farmers don't wear shoes but if you wanna do the same thing as a Herder just make sure you're good at avoiding stepping in poop." Ilan gestured toward the field. "They give you special boots in case. It gets pretty muddy too."
"Wow," Ezra remarked. "That's pretty disgusting."
Ilan beamed at him. "It's not as bad as it sounds. The animals are so sweet." She explained, stepping further into the area. She led him to the stables where a tall woman was tending to the animals, her short hair slicked back out of her face. "Ezra, this is Miss Devereux. She's in charge of the Herders. She and seven others will decide your job here."
The woman pulled off her leather gloves and extended a hand to him. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ezra Pierce. I've heard great things about you." She shook Ezra's hand firmly.
"It's uh- it's nice to meet you, Miss Devereux." Ezra smiled nervously. There was something about her piercing gaze that unsettled him.
Devereux beamed, "No need to call me Miss. Ilan just insists on using proper terms for us. It's very sweet but ultimately unnecessary. We've all heard about you. You should really talk to Asaiah, out magical combat teacher. He'd absolutely adore you." Devereux offered.
"Has Ilan been skimping you out on the tour?" Devereux teased, flashing Ilan a grin. "We have the Guard, a group that splits their time between magical and physical combat classes. In order have everyone well versed in combat we rotate out of work duty and take combat classes to keep up in case something ever happens. It's necessary to ensure our witches can defend themselves if the time ever comes along with helping them gain a bit of control. Of course, Eastern witches take potioneering classes instead and Diarmuid teaches them. Himela teaches physical combat and Asaiah, of course, teaches magical combat." Suddenly a pig squealed and the three turned to see a tiny boy chasing after it. "Jason, I am absolutely done telling you, do not try to ride the pigs!"
Ezra smiled in amusement as Devereux chased after the boy as he tried to climb on pigs. "Does this sort of thing happen a lot?"
"Well, it happens more often than not. Jason Gruger got here at age six and decided to stop aging at ten. He's about two hundred and fifty years old and he enjoys acting like he's still ten. Paticularly, attempting to ride the pigs." Ilan grinned as Devereux hooked her arm around Jason and dragged him off the pig and into the stables. "She'll lock him in one of the pens and by the time he gets out he's pretty much over it." She turned, beckoning him toward the exit. "C'mon, Diarmuid wants you."
Ezra followed Ilan silently as she talked.
Venus was in charge of the Famers, Devereux was in charge of the Herders, Mikel in charge of the Cooks, Himela in charge of the Physical Combat classes, Asaiah of the Magical Combat, Diarmuid was the Potioneer, Hui Yin was the recruiter, Penelope was the Healer and Edmund took care of the guards.
"Here's Ezra, like you wanted Mr. Diarmuid." Diarmuid glanced up from his papers with a grin.
"Ah, Ezra. Perfect. Come along." Diarmuid stood, beckoning them out of his office and to a room down the hall.
"Training room," Ilan whispered in explanation as his eyes scanned the colorless concrete, falling on a group of figures standing next to crudely assembled training dummies.
"The test will be a bit unethical but you aren't exactly our normal situation, Ezra." Diarmuid beamed at him, flashing white teeth. "All we want is to see what you can do." He turned to the figures and began to list them. But Ezra's eyes stuck to Asaiah.
He certainly was attractive. With long blonde hair cropped a bit below his chiseled chin. His tank top was loose, giving glimpse to the muscles underneath. He met Ezra's gaze with a piercing one of his own, his thick eyebrow arching as he examined the witch. His plump pink lips curled into a smirk, watching in amusement as Ezra pulled his eyes away.
