Page 5 of Oh, Sacred Dark
The first thing Tyler had ever learnt about magic—about life—was that humans didn’tmakeanything. They transformed. Transformed a piece of wood into a mask, or a slab of stone into a door, or the thread of soul in the earth into a ward. Some things you could do with just your hands. Some things with words. Other things you could only do with magic.
Even books, and music, and art, were a transformation.
There was humility in that knowledge—that nobody could do anything alone.
Being part of a coven was the epitome of that—the initiation ritual joined a person’s magic to those of the coven, to the earth they inhabited. It was the most ancient magic recorded—a union stronger than the self, a way to acknowledge that everything is part of an ecosystem. In a state of emergency, one person could siphon magic from others they were tied to—not the ability, but the force itself.
To be without that as an adult…to feel so untethered.
Alone.
Tyler couldn’t quite imagine it.
Tyler had always been part ofsomething. Had been born into Meliora territory, clasped when he was sixteen and of age. Back then, pre-Archie, the high witch had run the community into the ground, a leader only for power and money. It had left them in a weakened state, limping enough to be attacked when Tyler was twenty.
His mother, who had raised him alone, died that day. Tyler had seen the scars Chaos Magic left behind, the scorched scent that lingered. The death.
The intruders hadn’t won, and a change in power had been swift, Archie rising to the top. Tyler, though, had never forgotten the lessons of that day—the importance of protecting what was his with everything he had, lest he lose even more.
Archie had stabilised the coven, made the connections between members strong, and therefore fortified each person’s magic. It was obvious when a coven had a good leader, although Tyler hadn’t known the difference before Archie.
Tyler wondered how it would feel to be tied to people who practised Chaos Magic. If he would feel the blood spilt and the malicious intent rotting away at the bonds.
He wondered how Roman had felt—if he had enjoyed the feeling of it, or been wounded by it.
It was a few more days until Tyler was able to check up on Roman again. He’d texted with Mama Nai and Connie, but they hadn’t seen Roman even at mealtimes. It made Tyler’s suspicion grow, clinging to the walls of his mind in tendrils. Even if Roman wasn’t doing anything wrong, the fact that he was able to get around without alerting anybody was concerning.
Tyler found himself knocking on Roman’s door a little before dinner, waiting a weirdly long time for it to open. Tyler’s annoyance fizzled out slightly at the sight of the other man, though—Roman appeared significantly worse than last time. Skinnier, if that were even possible, eyes a little sunken, skin practically transparent. He turned and sat on his bed without even greeting Tyler, gaze vague and uninterested.
“Hey,” Tyler started, voice trailing away as Roman failed to react. “Uh…look. I know this is a new place and stuff, but you’re gonna have to interact with some of us sooner or later, yeah?”
Roman blinked slowly. “Okay.” The word was a straight line, lacking all inflexion.
“Okay…” Tyler repeated. “So. Why don’t you come down to dinner?”
For what felt like the first time, Roman actually met his eyes, shoulders straightening even further. He didn’t say anything, but it didn’t seem to be an objection.
Fuck, it was so difficult to have a simple conversation with this dude. “Okay. You coming, then?” Tyler prompted, taking a step back.
Roman stood up, and Tyler almost sighed in relief, eager to see how Roman interacted with others.
The dining room was bustling, but at least it was emptier than during lunch, what with a lot of people eating with their families at home once the working day was over. Roman still froze at the entryway, his gaze a little manic as he took everything in.
Tyler felt a little guilty about springing this on him, but it had to happen sooner or later, and Roman could have introduced himself when it was calmer in the almost-week he’d been in the house.
Connie’s eyes lit up as she saw the two of them—she was a people person through-and-through. “Hey! Come on over,” she demanded.
Tyler rolled his eyes but gestured to Roman, seating him next to Connie, himself on Roman’s other side.
Connie narrowed her eyes playfully at Tyler. “Wow, coming right after the tables are set. What a way to avoid work.”
Tyler snorted. “Yeah, because I do nothing around here. All you do is play with horses all day.”
“Excuse me, these are healing hands.” She reached past Roman to wiggle her fingers in Tyler’s face, laughing when he shoved them away.
“I don’t want to know where they’ve been,” Tyler protested.
“Inside your butt,” she retorted, turning her attention to Roman before Tyler could do more than squawk in protest. “Hey, I’m Connie. Roman, right?”
