The pangs of hope began.
In heavy pain, striving, struggling,
Two Ears in close volutions
From beneath his orbs of vision
--William Blake, "The First Book of Urizen" Poems and Prophecies


From upstairs in his study, Dreogan could hear the clinking once more of glass and silverware in the kitchen, meaning that Akiva's lessons with Raizel had drawn to a close for the evening.  Rising swiftly to his feet, Dreogan broke the seal of his solitude and opened the door.  From the landing upstairs, he could just spy Raizel's shadow approaching the front door.  "Raizel," he called loud enough for her to hear.  Appearing at the rail, he craned his neck until he could see her, almost directly below him.  "Are you in a hurry? I was wondering if you might have a moment."


Raizel, he anticipated, would be wary.  It was not often the two of them were alone together, and while Akiva and Raizel seemed to have reached some sort of peace treaty (or at the very least, a tenuous neutrality towards each others' dispositions), Dreogan got the feeling that Raizel still rather strongly disapproved of him,  It was little matter, however.  Dreogan had the determiniation of a diplomat to keep the peace and, thus far, he had through respectful address, giving thanks and credit where due, and giving a wide berth.


But there was only so much space that could be lent.  Their fates--as well as their pasts--seemed layered upon each other.  This proximity, however inconvenient it may seem, felt more of a fortuitous advantage, in Dreogan's eyes.  He and Raizel alone knew--knew first-hand what they were dealing with, and Raizel more currently than himself.  It was best they talked.


"I needed a bit of advice," he clarified, hoping that this was not too far from the truth.

The practice sessions with Akiva had never been truly physical -- "self defense" often felt like an inaccurate description -- and as the weeks had passed and the witch's pregnancy had worn on, she had become less and less mobile.  Raizel had been adamant: pregnant or not, it was necessary that Akiva continue to practice, even if they only worked on instinct and spell casting until the baby was born. 

Today's session had been relatively straightforward.  The Cursebreaker had declined the usual dinner invitation and had been on the verge of slipping out quietly when the call came from above.  Raizel stopped short, giving the mage a quick, startled look.  Despite the number of years that she had known him, she had never really interacted much with Dreogan Eleor.  Their relationship had always been filtered through other people: first Adon and Eszter, and now Akiva.  Back when she'd been in school, Dreogan had been her sister's friend, the studious older brother of one of her housemates, and very nearly Head Boy before he'd abandoned his studies and his brother.  Now he was Adon's overprotective sibling and Akiva's overprotective husband, as well as the Seer who had caused all of this by witnessing his brother's death.

She half-expected Dreogan's 'needed moment' to lead into some kind of chastisement -- a warning to let Akiva be or to leave his brother alone -- but advice sounded relatively non-threatening.  Raizel cocked her head to the side, eyeing him from below for a moment, and then gave a brisk, brusque nod and turned to ascend the stairs.

"Yeh, I have a little moment," she said warily as she reached the upper floor.  That was a typical strategy -- if she only allowed a short amount of time for a discussion, she could leave if the conversation got unpleasant. Dreogan was as careful and diplomatic as her sister -- she was never quite sure what to expect.

"In here," he said, indicating his study.  Sound-proof, Apparation-proof, with a fireplace that had barred of its Floo access, and had, since the time of his possession, just about every conceivable protective enchantment, ward, and counter-enchantment put upon it that Dreogan could research and feasibly execute.


It would do for this conversation.


He waited for her to cross the threshold first, before following.  Hand resting on the doorknob a moment, he further waved her towards a wooden desk chair in the corner before closing the door.  If she tried to storm out, she'd have to edge past him.  He wouldn't necessarily stop her--but he hoped the physical setup of it would be enough to at least make it clear to her that her choice to leave would need to be quite deliberate.  There was no evading.


Raizel, though, from what little Dreogan knew of her, did not avoid difficult conversations--when they were going in the way that she wanted.  That was the second setup he would need to strategize.


"It's about Godze. And Topluluk," he said gravely, looking at her levelly as he settled himself into his swivel chair, rolling it closer to where she sat.  "It's an understatement to claim that Adon and I have not managed to sever ties as completely as we would have liked."  He paused, looking down at his hands a moment before meeting her eyes again. "I'm trying to figure out why that might be.  With the exception of your brother--it seems that you have managed, pretty well, at least, to cut off acquaintance."  He wet his lips.  It had been a small lie.  Dreogan was far from convinced that Topluluk was done with Raizel Cohen, and he remained concerned that her association with them would further jeopardize her standing  with the Group.  But it was at least an avenue to figure out what precautions she had taken thus far to safeguard herself against it, as well.


"How did you manage it?"


Dreogan had learned well enough from eavesdropping on enough defense lessons with Akiva that if there was one thing Raizel Cohen could speak freely about, it was in telling others how they should do things.

She had never been inside Dreogan's inner sanctum.  Even now, she entered stiffly, lowering herself awkwardly as she took the chair.  The door closing, the doorknob turning -- it felt as if something was pressing in on her chest.  Raizel took a deep breath, forced it out in a huff, and leveled an uneasy look at Dreogan.

She did not have to wait long, though she did not like the other mage rolling closer.  It made the room feel smaller, as if it were closing in on her -- as if she were trapped.  But his words -- her expression grew more serious, and she sat up even straighter, her gaze locked on Dreogan now.  He wanted to talk about Topuluk.  About Benny.

About her.

Raizel let the breath she'd been holding hiss through her teeth, and then huffed out another.  Her hands felt too clammy, too uncertain when they were still; she crossed her arms, and then squeezed her left hand into a tight fist, rubbing her thumb against where her last two fingers had been.

"I...left."  Her voice sounded too uncertain, so she swallowed hard, and then leveled a challenging look at Dreogan.  "I heard that Gringotts was looking for Cursebreakers," she informed him with a hard, fierce edge.  "So I went and signed on to train in Egypt.  They let me go.  They were not interested enough to follow me then."

She had been careful.  She had never given the Group reason to think that she would talk.  Having equally powerful friends had doubtlessly helped quite a bit.  And then there had been the goblins -- Gözde would not have wanted to attract their attention by breaking one of their new toys.  Topuluk had let her go then -- but they were surely more interested in her now.  After Benny.  After Iraq.  After word had likely spread that she was defending hapless young wives in alleyways and spending far too much time with the younger of the Eleor brothers.

Raizel tossed her hair, and then gave Dreogan a brash look, as if daring him to broach that particular battle.  "I think I know why they are after you, though," she said boldly and recklessly.  "You and Adon.  Well, maybe I know."  She met his gaze coolly, but there was an uncertain glint to her eye, as if she were not quite sure whether his response would be cause enough to bolt.  "It is only a guess."

Dreogan frowned, a slight feeling of foreboding overcoming him at the simplicity of her response--as though she'd not considered this particular point before.  He hoped she'd been aware enough of the risks when rekindling this friendship with Adon. 


The unsettling feeling did not end there.  Dreogan had left, too. Maybe not on the same indifferent terms that Raizel had left on, but he'd left, and he'd been young, and by all accounts, should have been inconsequential. 


That thing about the gold mask and Katsaros' suspicions aside... What really made him any different from Raizel Cohen?  Or was there any difference? How could he avoid losing his younger brother to them, like Raizel had lost hers?


Dreogan had his own questions, but they could wait.  She was being forthcoming enough with her ideas--and Dreogan was not inclined to obstruct a flow.  "Yes," he said in a quiet, patient tone.  "I have put a great deal of thought into that, too..." And he'd come to some rather uncomfortable conclusions--which he'd test against her knowledge in a moment.  His expression grew pained a moment before reconsidering.  "Please, go on."

Raizel eyed him, her expression wary, and then gave the other mage a short, curt nod, letting her gaze drift past him to the ground.

"You know that they smuggle artifacts, I think," she said uncomfortably.  She had never spoken to Dreogan directly about his time with the Group, but if he had spent any time at all with them, there were some things that it would have been hard not to realize.  "They take what they can and sell it to make money.  And maybe you know this too, but there are other things that they are after -- bigger things.  And sometimes they try to use scrying to find them."

This had been as much as she had known to begin with.  Building on that, there was plenty that she suspected -- how it might connect, what it might all mean.  Visiting the Eleor family's Gringotts vault had been another clue, when she'd seen the skeleton and the treasures concealed there.  And then there was the Dream.  And Benny.

"I saw.  In your vault."  She hesitated, watching Dreogan warily. It had not been his decision to bring her there; in the fallout, she had never been sure if he'd been pleased that his brother had included her in the trip. "You have things there.  Maybe there is something there that they have wanted," she said quietly.  "Or maybe now that you have their attention, they will decide they want a Seer to help them find something else."  She gave a nonchalant shrug, hugging her arms uncomfortably against her chest, dropping her gaze so that she was looking anywhere but at him.  "But I think that if there is something that they really want, it would not be hard for them to figure out how they could convince you or Adon to help them get it."

"I was aware, yes," Dreogan said with a quiet nod as he rubbed his chin, considering.  He swiveled slightly in his chair, back and forth as he ran through his thoughts, filtering them into a coherent stream.  "I had come to the tentative conclusion months ago that they either were interested in something in our possession, or in my ability.  I was inclined to say the latter, as that was far more well-known--that was, until the incident at Gringotts."  He looked keenly at her--there was no further elaboration needed. The Incident could only be one. "Which led me to believe that someone was interested in something in our vault.  Either that, or that was the only place my father felt safe to seek asylum. And he sealed himself off there of his own will--because there was no where else to go." 


His hand now moved up from his chin to his eyes, rubbing tiredly.  "I've considered a potential link there--though there's nothing concrete to substantiate it, really... that Topluluk was involved in my father's disappearance... that Topluluk will be involved in," he swallowed, "well, in mine."  He shook his head in frustration at the jumbled thoughts that would not settle. He glanced up apologetically at Raizel.  "I felt--years ago, when I was still very young--that that group had been somehow drawn up in the matter of my father's disappearance.  Everything just fell into place. It made sense.  I grew nervous, eventually, because I wondered if they had allowed it to fall into place. To lure me in, there." He frowned. "While that may have been the case, I don't think I was wrong with that first instinct... though a sort of... preturnatural presentiment is little enough to go on in matters such as this." He looked at her obliquely, hopefully.  "We talk so much about Topluluk--and the group.  The only thing we know, from the Dream, is that Katsaros is involved..." he shook his head.  "All our assumptions were based on the fact that Katsaros was acting on behalf of Gözde.  And I've had to try to practice logical restraint to keep from tying this up with the matter of my father..." he sighed.  "Are we even going in the right direction with Topluluk?"

The blond Cursebreaker hesitated, lifting her chin slightly as she regarded him.  "I don't know," she said quietly.  "But maybe, I think.  Adon, with --"  She tapped at the side of her face, a gesture she never would have dared with her former schoolmate there.  "And he said he thought he saw him at haKotel," she added cautiously.  "The one who did that.  If they were not interested before, I think they might be now."

There was more that she could guess, but this was the part she had yet to voice out loud to Adon.  Raizel bit her lip, watching Dreogan warily, and then gave an uneasy shrug of her shoulders.

"And there is also Benny," she added, looking miserable.  "The Dream -- Adon said you started having it two winters ago."  Almost three years, now, with the holidays nearly approaching.  "But I think -- Eszter and I think -- that was when Benny got involved with Topuluk."  She grimaced as she glanced at him quickly to judge his reaction and then dropped her gaze once more.  "Maybe Adon wouldn't have cared.  But if he'd stayed in Jerusalem, maybe he would have been involved in the investigation," she said in a very quiet voice, her eyes steady on the ground.  "And maybe that is when the Dream would have played out."

Dreogan closed his eyes painfully, taking several moments to distill the implications.  Before, the dream had always been Adon paying the price for Dreogan's salvation from Dreogan's own past.  That had been a difficult and painful prospect.  Dreogan had had to live with the guilt that he'd caused it all, but also had the knowledge that if he had caused it, the answer very likely also fell upon his shoulders.


The picture Raizel now seemed to paint was Adon's past--or what potential, branched pasts might have existed--catching up with him.  It felt even more helpless, in its way.  So utterly beyond him.  "They will not leave him alone," he lamented in agreement, curling his fingers into a tight fist until the nails dug into his palm. "They have too much pride to let him get away with that forever."


When all was said and done, it didn't seem to matter who had triggered it, between the Eleor brothers.  Both had tangled with the Group.  And both seemed likely to die for it.  If this was indeed about the Group, he reminded himself.


Dree cleared his throat to rid it of the forming lump and wet his lips.  "Adon would have cared," Dreogan said stubbornly.  He looked up at her--but she was not looking at him.  With a light sigh, he softened his voice, adding, "He still does; I hope you know." He hesitated, mouth open--he was not sure now was the time to mention... how sorry he was for her and Eszter's loss.


He pressed on, "And what you are proposing is a possibility.  But even after he moved here, and even with Adon not involved in the investigation, the Dream progressed more or less the same, with minor variation."


There'd been one--the inclusion of Jonas Trevelyan to the dream, which Dree had still not managed to reconcile with his conscience.  But that had nearly been half a year since Dreogan'd encountered that particular dream.  It had been nearly half a year since he'd had any dream at all.


"There may have been more variations since.  I don't have the Dream anymore--I take potions to suppress it."  He had needed to. For his health, happiness, and sanity. For Akiva's--who shared a bed with him.  "Because this particular Dream seems susceptible to change, I'm not entirely sure how much trust to put in its portents. I am still debating whether the advantage of tenuous clues may be worth the likely psychological... effects." 


Withdrawn, depressed, scared, uncertain--that was what had driven Dreogan to take the poorly brewed Draught of Peace in the first place.  Dreogan needed, at this point in his life, to be wholly present. He was about to have a son in the house.  He was still getting MAO off the ground. And above all, he was trying to prevent this from happening.


"This week--I will go off the potions and see. Just a week," he said sternly, anticipating a strong response from Raizel. 

It felt too heavy, the weight of these possibilities colliding.  They have too much pride to let him get away with that forever.  Which meant there was only one ending that could come about.  Raizel set her jaw, steeled herself, felt the pressure from her fingers digging too tightly into the skin of her arm.  Adon was too brave, too bold for his own good sometimes, and she'd seen how alone he felt.  Maybe this was the time that he had started a fire that he couldn't handle, but she was determined to force the conflagration to burn in the opposite direction.

She hadn't spoken with the intent of gaining reassurances, but she glanced up, blinking at the diplomat, before letting her gaze settle back to the ground again.  Breathing out, she closed her eyes, attempted to focus on the words.  The Dream hadn't changed.  Except it had, minutely.  And the other mage wasn't sure if it would help, because... 

Raizel opened her eyes and looked up, studying Dreogan silently with an interest that hadn't been there a moment before. 

"That would help," she agreed, giving him a sympathetic, encouraging smile.  Watching his brother die, over and over again -- the thought of it even happening once made her shiver.  She plunged on determinedly.  "If it has changed, then maybe it will give us more clues about what to expect.  And if it hasn't..."  She shrugged.  That had always struck her as simple enough.  "Maybe it is just a prophecy about one future.  It seems like it would be simple enough to change it," she said matter-of-factly.  "We could just tell Adon to wait, or I could go get you.  We would never let him go alone."

Raizel spoke with the same self-assurance that Adon--and even Jonas--had even been known to adopt.  And in Raizel Cohen's case, it felt the confidence that youthful ignorance often brought.  His tone, in responding, was sufficiently cautious.


"Maybe," Dreogan said faintly, feeling a bit grey.  Fixing it was not quite as simple as Raizel seemed to dream up. Her blunt determination, while forceful, did not have the subtlety to penetrate the complex weavings of this Fate.  Still.  The determination was a welcome reassurance; Dreogan felt substantially less dispirited knowing Adon had such friends. "I appreciate it--all you're doing for him.  He does, too," he said with a worn, lopsided smile, "even if he's been fussy about it." Which was more than likely--it was Adon.


"Yes--I think, in that particular moment, we could try to change out Adon's role.  I'm not convinced that it would solve certain root issues, however.  It may change who dies with me, or when they--or Katsaros--decides to strike at Adon, but those are only setting changes.  They don't change the nature of the conflict."


Which was the only way to resolve the issue before it started.  He frowned before adding, "Do you think there is a way I could find out what they want?"

Fussy was not the word she would have chosen to describe Adon Eleor, but it was probably accurate enough to upset him.  Raizel gave a loud snort, shaking her head.  "He had better," she replied, with the barest, faintest hint of a smile.  "Fussy.  Ha.  Yes."

Her smile faded quickly as she leaned back, listening to Dreogan.  Not changing the nature of the conflict -- Raizel's shoulders tensed, the line of her jaw tightening as she clenched her teeth.  This was -- ...not entirely the inquiry that she had been expecting, either.  Finding out what they wanted.  They had been hypothesizing and conjecturing for so long that getting a definitive answer seemed almost out of the question.  Raizel frowned for a long moment, and then gave Dreogan a hard, considering look.

"Yes," she said after a beat.  "Not you, maybe.  But I could find them.  Do you want to know about Gözde or Katsaros?"

Dregoan gave a soft nod at her one-word consent.  She was with him, at least, in some of this.  Good.  "No. Maybe not me," he was ready enough to conceed.  "That has the potential to trigger more than we would like.  And maybe not you, either.  As you've said, you've made a pointed effort to evade them."  Yet despite this, Dreogan was far from convinced in Raizel's assurances.  Even with this cautionary measure, they'd not left her family alone.  "It may be best for you and Eszther if you were to keep that distance."  And Adon, too.  If Raizel got too entangled in this--if something, God forbid--should go wrong, there would be no stopping Adon from entering the fray.
 
He put in a moment's thought, considering who, then.  Jonas seemed a likely possibility--having had experience infiltrating crime circles before and, perhaps in a true Houdini-esque nod to his partner, escaping unscathed  rather inexplicably.  But he didn't speak Arabic. Or Hebrew. Or Turkish. He didn't know their sort of magic. Not well enough to anticipate it, at any rate. And Adon would do far more than demolish a London City block this time around. Bad idea.
 
"What about Adon's old partner in Israel? Adnan Musallam." Musallam had been, Dreogan knew, looking into the group for some time.  He also knew that the Cohen girls had not agreed with how the Jerusalem Aurors had conducted the investigation into their younger brother's death--even Adon did not seem wholly complimentary--though he was still unsure as to the particulars.  Dreogan attributed it, most likely, to a low-priority status.  The sort of classification that his father's case had been relegated to. The Jerusalem office had a history of overlooking seemingly apparent details.  Whether this was attributable to a willful political statement or woeful lack of proper training, staffing, or attention remained to be seen, and would likely colour the extent to which Dreogan felt comfortable involving them in this matter. "I believe we could find a way to get them involved--perhaps to go in, once we've settled on a way to locate them." Lightly, to mitigate any adverse reaction and build-in a sufficient out, should he need it later, he added, "It's just a thought."
 
In the past, when Dreogan had spoken to Adnan Musallam, he had shown a sort of lion-like protectiveness towards Adon that Dreogan had approved of.  He did not believe that Adnan could be wholly disinterested in a case that could potentially cost the young investigator his life.  Whatever Adnan's thoughts were on the Cohens or himself... there was at least that.

She listened silently, restraining herself from giving a response, though her expression had tightened -- her eyes flashing, the muscles in her neck and shoulders tensing -- at the mention of her sister.  Raizel gave a quiet huff, tossing her hair back over her shoulder, but maintained her silence until he had finished, watching the mage with narrowed eyes.

"No.  No Aurors," she said, shaking her head.  "And not Eszter."  She met Dreogan's gaze and held it fiercely so that there would be no mistake.  "She isn't part of this."  She was away, safe in Brussels, and as far as Raizel knew, her older sister had no idea that she'd even reconnected with the Eleors.  If Eszter had gotten word that Raizel was having anything at all to do with Adon, then there would have surely been angry letters sent in response.

She heaved out a breath, trying to let the muscles in her throat loosen, and then plowed on.  "You can't trust the Jerusalem office," she informed Dreogan tightly.  "How long has Topuluk been operating?  How long have they been after Gözde?  They have never, never stopped him."  She clenched her teeth, giving him a hurt, unhappy look.  "They won't do it now just because we ask."

"And besides," she said crisply, "you don't send Aurors if you want to talk.  That would be war, not negotiating."  Which was a valid approach -- maybe the one she'd prefer normally -- but in war, people died.  She'd seen it.  And while she wasn't about to admit to caring about any of these people, Dreogan or his brother or their group of family and friends, she didn't particularly want to think of any of them as casualties, either.  "And we can't send you either," she continued firmly.  That was something she was certain of.  When it came to making a deal, Dreogan was probably the best they had -- but not with this, not with his heart so close.  "You're the Seer, you might be what they want.  They would just try to take."

That left a limited number of options.  Not Dreogan.  Never Akiva -- this wasn't her kind of life.  Raizel was determined that the English witch should be kept as far, far away from this mess as her own sister.  Jonas Trevelyan, maybe, but he didn't know the language or the Group well enough.  And asking it of someone completely uninvolved -- there were some that she might ask, who might say yes, who stood a good chance of getting out alive, but how many of them could she trust with a friend's life?

"Maybe there are one or two people I know who might help."  It had not been a hard day -- the lesson with Akiva had certainly not been physically trying, but she suddenly felt very, very tired.  "Friends who do not like Topuluk.  But if we want to find out what they want and make a deal, it should be one of us.  I think they'll talk with me.  Maybe with Adon, but I don't -- he couldn't negotiate," she finished in a small, tight voice.  It was a quiet, sad feeling, this sense of resignation.  Raizel looked down, away, anywhere but at Dreogan.  "He would get too upset, I think.  All they would have to do is threaten you, or threaten Akiva or your mother, and he would not be thinking right."

It was amazing, how watching another's reaction could raise your own self-awareness.  And just in time, too.  As Raizel seemed to bristle and shake her mane of hair in defiance, Dreogan kept a serene expression, shoulders relaxed as he lightly crossed his legs, listening to her in turn.

Truly, he needed to give his brother--or Raizel--more credit for having only set fire to one table in their on-again, off-again, on....again? relationship in their Gaddol days.  Raizel dug her heels in with determination, and if Dreogan had been more sensitive (more like this brother), he felt certain he would have broken countenance.

"I agree," he instead insisted with an evenness.  "Eszter is not involved, and we would both, I think, like to keep it that way"  But the Group displayed little qualms of staying their hand from the loved ones of their enemies.  That was their modus operandi, and if Dreogan was not mistaken, Raizel was swiftly to become chiseled onto their list.
 
He frowned, considering her words about the Auror's office.  "No--I think we can both agree," he said with a commiserating look, "that they have not investigated things as thoroughly as they needed to."
 
He sighed, swiveling slightly in the chair--to give him some sense of movement.   "And it is true that in this case, the Aurors would not serve as prime negotiators.  The Group would never be able to trust an Auror--or even view them with a detached neutrality... That being said, I do not think we should wholly dismiss their potential uses for down the road."  There could be any number of twists and turns--and with that, multifarious roles to fill.  It would serve them all well to determine why Jerusalem's Aurors had not gone for Godze.  Reasons could range from potential corruption, a lack of priority, the pursuit of bigger game (even within the context of the Group), or sheer incompetence.  All of which could, down the line, play various roles in the One Act that was the Jerusalem dream.  "We should know all the parties involved as well as we can--try to win over who we may, and determine how best they may help our cause, or how they seem likely to hinder it."
 
Their cause.  Dreogan frowned.  With an objective as vague as "stay alive," it was no wonder direct strategy had evaded them.  "If anyone were to negotiate, it could not be a person of interest. That would be as simple and as short as hand-delivering a hostage to them. It must be someone who they trust--or someone who, at the very least, they feel a detachment towards, so that they might objectively listen.  And yet we must trust them as well."
 
He sighed.  "There are professionals for this sort of thing," he noted.  Though he didn't know of any personally who ventured into crime rings. "I can make some inquiries; I'm not without resources as far as that is concerned."  Dreogan was not certain how far he trusted Raizel's "friends who didn't like Topuluk."  Wetting his lips, he hesitated. Several blank moments spanned out in which Dreogan, seemingly intent on observing the grain of the wooden floorboards, put his thoughts together. "If you're of a mind to vet your friends, I intend to be involved." Inclusion of Adon, for the moment was, as his words implied, unmentionable.