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...
"when you sleep tonight shapeshift for me, become the holy wild sea that swallows up the mountain, turn gold, grow into what i cannot." w o r d c o u n t : 1,410
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Somehow he felt different. As the candles blew out and cheers went around the room, Ezra felt different in an unexpected yet indescribable way. For the next thousand years, he would be frozen at only nineteen years old. Old enough that he could pass in a two or three year gap.
His skin felt tighter and colder and the pain of his features and his body freezing in place was the worst thing he had ever felt.
His nerves felt cooled and he felt a sense of euphoria.
"Feels good huh?" Himela asked with an amused grin. "It's the endorphins flooding your system and when all that pain stops so abruptly the endorphins are flooding an empty system."
Ezra felt a hand clap his back. "Welcome to the club." Asaiah grinned. "You really are one of us. I wouldn't be surprised if Diarmuid broke the rules and asked you to join the coven."
Ezra laughed stiffly and smiled at Asaiah. "Thank you."
"Ezra!" the aforementioned coven leader called out. "Take today off and have an extra long weekend. You've earned it."
Ezra wasn't sure where he had earned any of that. They were doing so much for him and he had yet to return the favor. He saw the job, not as him helping them, but as them helping him. It gave him an entirely new purpose so far past vengeance and hatred. It made him think he had a real chance.
Paul's words still rang in his head. Outsider. Leech. And as much as he knew they were words said out of anger and not necessarily meant, he couldn't forget them in everything he did.
"Ezra," Diarmuid's voice shocked him from his thoughts. "Are you alright?" He waved the others out of the room and Ezra wiped at his burning eyes.
"I don't deserve all this. I don't deserve any of it. You've all done so much for me." Ezra swallowed thickly, tugging at the hem of his shirt.
Diarmuid frowned. "Enough of the pity party, Ezra." He scolded. "This is what we do. This is our job and you have done far more for us than most witches that come through here! You have absolutely no reason for all this guilt you're feeling. Now go relax, have some fun and forget your worries for a while."
Ezra left the room feeling a lot better than when he went in.
He laid down in his bed and went over his files while Pads curled up at his hip and slowly as he emerged in his reading he felt less like an outsider and more at home.
It felt good.
Exhaustion clung to his body, weighing him down as he slipped off his bed, his weighted palm crushing the alarm clock into silence. A periodic clicking drew his weary eyes to Ilan as she sat on her bed, knitting furiously.
