Roman blinked slowly as if he had just woken up despite it being almost one o’clock.
“Hey, Roman,” Tyler grunted out.
“Hello,” Roman replied in that same tone-empty voice. He took a few steps away, but Tyler remained in the hallway.
“I hear you haven’t been going to lunch and dinner,” Tyler stated as neutrally as possible.
Roman sat on the edge of the bed, back straight, and looked away defiantly. “Yes.”
“Okay? You know when the mealtimes are?”
“Yes. Breakfast for all morning. Lunch at one. Dinner at six-thirty.”
Tyler waited for something more. “Right,” he said eventually.
Roman let out a little huff of breath as though he were annoyed by the questions, his expression flat and a little distant, as if he were above what was happening.
“Fine.” Tyler sighed. What was he supposed to do, drag the guy to the dining room? “You good?”
“Yes.”
“Okay…I’ll leave you to it, then.”
Roman nodded, and Tyler shut the door.
“What an amazing conversationalist,” Tyler muttered under his breath.
The tables were almost completely set by the time he made it downstairs, but he helped with what was left before sitting beside Connie.
“Someone’s grumpy,” Connie teased, pointing at Tyler’s face. Her voice was curled with a Hispanic tilt, her big brown eyes peering at him. She was a few years younger than him, but they’d been friends since Tyler had helped make the stables she now used to treat horses from nearby areas, one of the most talented people with Animal Magic he knew.
“Just hungry,” Tyler said, waving her off.
“Sure. This cheese comes from Alex’s farm, by the way. Try it.” Alex was another Animal Magic user in a nearby coven, whom they worked with to trade goods.
Tyler popped a piece into his mouth, the creamy flavour cutting with a sharp tang. “Wow, that’s good.”
“Right? New cows.”
Tyler nodded, a lull falling between them as they each served themselves. “Hey,” Tyler said once their plates were full. “You heard about the two people from the Imber coven?”
“Oh, yeah. Poor guys, I can’t even imagine what it must have been like to be in that place…” Connie replied, her curly hair bouncing as she shook her head.
“Right. Sure.” He glanced up at Cross, who was sitting far enough away not to be able to hear their conversation. “You seen Roman around? Skinny, pale, looks like a cherub.”
Connie raised her eyebrows. “I don’t think so? I know who you’re talking about, I saw him when he arrived, but I haven’t seen him lately. Why?”
“Nothing. I’m in charge of him or whatever. Can you tell me if you see him out and about?”
Connie narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t know why, but you’re making this sound fishy. It’s not like he has to be monitored twenty-four-seven.”
“I know that—I just want to know if he…needs anything,” Tyler excused.
“Right. Well, I can tell you if he needs something.”
Tyler rolled his eyes. “Fine, thanks.”
Was nobody but him even slightly worried about having the son of the Imber Coven’s high witch here? Really?
Cross seemed perfectly capable of eating with the rest of them. Why not Roman?
There was something strange about that man—Tyler could feel it in his gut. He just had to figure out what.
**********
That thought—of what it must be like to live without a coven—lay belly up and squirming as Tyler tried to fall asleep that night.
Being part of a coven wasn’t just about the people you lived with, or the high witch you answered to—it was whom you were connected to.
The first thing Tyler had ever learnt about magic—about life—was that humans didn’t make anything. 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 of something. 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.