Page 41 of Oh, Sacred Dark
“This is my favourite trail,” Tyler was saying as he parked the car in a small dirt lot. “Haven’t been out here in a while, though. Life, you know.”
Roman nodded even though he didn’t know anything about having a life that allowed hiking. They got out of the car, the air crisp and clean. It was already June, and the sun was hot on his skin even as the breeze soothed the burn.
He looked at Tyler for guidance—he wasn’t sure if this was some kind of physical test to see if he was eating and sleeping enough. The doctor had made it clear that he had to put on some weight and, preferably, muscle. That he shouldn’t be having as many Drops. That he should be sleeping better. They were going as far as monitoring him weekly to see how his hormone levels were doing.
It was stressful to be responsible for things he hardly had control over—it wasn’t like he waschoosingto Drop. He was lanced with fear every time he had to admit to Tyler that he’d had one, stomach churning as he saw the poorly disguised disappointment in his eyes.
Times like these, though, when Tyler would spend time with him outside of a scene—cooking or gardening or, in this case, hiking—were amazing. Even when everything invariably went wrong, he’d still have these memories, softly glowing embers in a coal-black pit.
The trail Tyler had chosen was beautiful, a narrow but hardy and well-kept path cutting through the forest. Life thrummed around them, tickling at Roman’s magic like fish fluttering against his skin.
“Archie and I used to come here a lot when we were younger. It’s where Archie did a lot of his Listening practice, before he moved on to specialise in People Sensing. He’s great at telling how people are feeling, practically a lie detector if he wants to be, what with guilt being such a clear emotion. Or that’s what he says, anyway,” Tyler explained.
Roman took in the sun-mottled ground, the birds cooing down at them, and could only imagine what growing up with the freedom to Listen here would be like.
A deep, blue emotion opened a well inside him—a nostalgia for something he’d never lived. He couldn’t even imagine having the freedom to train in People Sensing—his father would have laughed at the very idea of a sub having that type of power.
Tyler took a deep, noisy breath. “Do you Listen often? Is there something in particular you like to use it for?”
“I don’t use it on people,” Roman defended himself quickly.
Roman knew exactly how invasive Listening Magic could be, especially if you wanted to keep a secret. It was only through careful strategy and mental gymnastics that Cross and he hadn’t been found out when they’d set out to sabotage the Imber coven.
Tyler shot him a startled look. “That’s not what I meant. I mean more, like…I dunno. I know people who use Listening Magic for agriculture, or weather forecasting, or checking for damage in protective wards. Not here in Meliora, but in other places. We don’t have that many Listeners.”
“Oh. Uhm…I like Listening when I cook? And when gardening, I guess. I don’t know. Sometimes I just like Listening to things without having, like, a purpose,” Roman admitted.
Back in the Imber coven, when things were really bad and he was trying to distance himself from the pain, he’d focus on just one thing at a time. A mote of dust, a buzzing insect on the windowsill. He would Listen to everything they were, the pattern of their atoms, what they were made of, where they came from. He would see the potential in what was happening—the path that dust mote would take as the wind came from the window, or the prey the insect was focused on.
It was calming to centre himself so fully in something else. To escape his own mind for a while. The information didn’t serve a purpose, but it let him know he wasn’t alone in the world.
“That makes sense,” Tyler surprised Roman by saying. “I think I’d just Listen to things if I had that kind of magic. It seems…calming.”
“Isn’t Transformation Magic calming?” Roman couldn’t help but ask.
“Yeah, no, it can be, but sometimes I don’t know what to transform something into, you know? I can’t hear what form the material wants to take, but I have to use my own judgment. Which, I mean, I try to do the best I can, but it doesn’t always work out, you know?”
Roman tilted his head in agreement. He understood what a responsibility that would be, to shape one thing into the next instead of just letting it be.
To Roman’s relief, Tyler didn’t force a conversation the whole time, letting the silence settle between them as they walked.
It was…nice. A small, weak part of Roman was starting to hope Tyler wasn’t going to ambush him—at least not right then, in the middle of the forest. It allowed him to relax, his mind wandering instead of being hyper-focused on Tyler and where the next threat could come from.
They finally reached the top of the area they had been climbing, a rolling field of tall grass that dropped into a steep cliff meeting them, miles of trees stretching beyond it.
Roman stopped short at the sight, stunned. “Oh,” he said softly, senses inundated by green, but the whispering presence of so much untamed life.
Roman shook himself, peering at Tyler to check if he was supposed to be doing anything, but Tyler was looking out at the horizon.
“Wanna stay here for a while?” Tyler asked.
Roman agreed readily.
“You can Listen, if that’s something you want. I have your back,” Tyler offered.
He was always saying things like that— ‘You can let go, Roman. You can trust me. I have your back.’ Sometimes, especially on the edge of subspace, with all his bodyyearningfor it, Roman believed him.
Sometimes, it was a lot harder.
