Esperance || Paul Lahote

.xxxiii.

"your skin is peeling from your bones, your eyes have swollen from your skull, you can cover the smell with your perfume but the rot will always be there, waiting for your thin mask to decay."
w o r d c o u n t : 1,052

Knuckles stung as Ezra rapped against the heavy door blocking him from Diarmuid's study. As Ezra had begun to discover, Diarmuid spent most of his time locked away in there.

"Come in."

Before Ezra could reach the knob, the door creaked open. Diarmuid grinned, looking extremely happy with himself.

"I tied a string to the handle so I can pull down the knob and pull the door open." He declared proudly before pinning the string back to his desk. "What can I do for you, Ezra? Problems with your new job?"

Ezra got his first choice after he let loose something new he was working on. A ball of lightning that exploded on impact with its target. He was now the new magical combat teacher under Asaiah.

"The job is amazing, Diarmuid. Thank you so much for allowing me to be here. But that's not why I'm here. I was wondering if you had anything on the last Council members, names, pictures, records, anything you might have." The man let his book fall shut and stood, walking over to his bookshelf.

Ezra had never seen a braille book before but they looked expensive with worn covers and carefully bound with leather.

"Why exactly do you want this information?" Diarmuid asked as he thumbed through his file cabinet, his fingers flew over the risen dividers.

Ezra pressed his tongue against his teeth and let out a hiss of air. "You know why. I am falling apart, here. My best friend is dead and I caused it and the man I love sees me as a selfish, inconsiderate, hateful, egotistical bastard and he's right. I am all of those things. And if she died for nothing. If all of this is for nothing I think I might kill myself." Ezra confessed, his throat tight. "It can't all be for nothing. It can't."

Diarmuid pointed him to a painting hanging on the wall framed with intricate gold. A group of men and women donned in lavish robes. "One of those paintings, if I remember right, is the last record of the last Council of Five. Not the very last of course, that picture has been replicated many times but that is an original. On the back, you will find every name on there, from left to right. There aren't much more records from them. They had no desire to document themselves but I believe this time things will be different."

"You believe there will be another Council?" Ezra asked, wiping the budding tears with his thumb.

"I think it'd be naive not to."

Ezra glanced over the painting and suddenly his eyes widened. Even in the vagueness of acrylics, he recognized her. Flipping over the painting, he scanned the names. Danae Valeda.

"Danae Valeda, do you know anything about her?" Ezra asked curiously.

"Only what I've heard. She was a genius, an incredible strategist, so caring and all amazing. I don't think anyone's words could do her justice and I do believe if she hadn't become Head of the Council at such an inopportune time she could have really made a difference." Diarmuid peered admiringly at the painting.

"She's still alive." Diarmuid's eyes fell shut.

"Don't disrespect the dead, Ezra. They found all five bodies."

Ezra's lips fell open. "She is alive. I've seen her. I've been seeing her. She's brought me here. To this point. But now that I know who she is I feel like I'm just back at square one." He swallowed thickly and tugged at his shirt. "What am I supposed to do if I find Aloysius? I can't take on the entire coven on my own. It's illogical. I can't give up on it either, I can't let them get away with it. I have no leads for whoever this 'chosen' is. I have nothing. Again."

"Oh, don't be foolish. You have far more than a simple nothing. Now you need to track down Danae's daughter." Diarmuid offered, watching as Ezra yanked a hand through his hair.

"How?"

Diarmuid stood, his hands clasping behind his back. "Start with what you know. It's a young witch, sixteen or seventeen, will have to be mixed at least, they probably will have been surrendered in a safe haven, a fire station, a church, a hospital. Start from there and get all the records you can."

Ezra let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you so much."

"Ezra, if you could inform me when you find out, it'd be much appreciated." Diarmuid requested kindly.

Ezra shifted nervously but agreed none the less. Diarmuid had been constantly kind to him. Ezra had no reason for the doubts he was feeling.

Ezra took the papers back to his room and crammed them under his bed with his other files.

Suddenly he stood and when he turned his breath hitched in his throat when he saw Asaiah standing in the doorway with an amused smirk. "Trying to skimp out on work duty already?"

"Sorry, sir. I just had to talk to Diarmuid." Ezra explained, kicking the bag further under the bed. He decided then he'd need to find a far better hiding spot.

Asaiah chuckled deeply, his chiseled chest rumbling. "There's no need for such a gorgeous man to call me sir." He winked suavely. "C'mon, we're teaching a class of hippies today and I gotta say they look like a hand full."

Ezra ignored the queasiness rising in his stomach and followed Asaiah out of the room. "Hippies?" Ezra echoed, pulling his room door closed with the toe of his sneaker.

"Herders, they're very different. Them and the Famers. It's gotta be all the pesticides and cow shit they're breathing in cause they're an out there bunch." Asaiah explained with an amused smirk. "I have a list of our group today. He began listing names but Ezra's interest peaked when he mentioned Ilan.

Ezra was never quite sure exactly what Ilan was. She never did anything in front of him because she never needed to but the fact that she never mentioned it made him weary to ask.

"You ready for your first day?" Asaiah asked, wrapping his arm uncomfortably tight around Ezra's shoulder as he nodded weakly. "Great! Just follow my lead, cutie."