26. Jasper
26
JASPER
“ A re you busy?” I ask, rocking back and forth on my heels, my hands shoved in my pockets, as I try to hide the trembles racing through me.
Zoe’s bedroom is warm—always fucking too warm, probably thanks to Mael and his constant need to keep her comfortable—and the late afternoon sun streams through her curtains, casting a beautiful glow on my anima nexum .
Since we got back from her dad’s place, she’s napped the day away, and there’s a restful look on her face that wasn’t there first thing this morning. Her honey-kissed skin is full of life, her cheeks rosy but not in embarrassment, and her curly blonde hair is wild and free.
She’s beautiful, so fucking beautiful.
“I’m sorry?” Zoe murmurs, not truly paying attention. She’s lost in the world of whatever new magicae she’s exploring, and it’s one of the things I love most about her.
She’s so curious, so desperate for knowledge, and it’s a trait we share.
“Are you busy?” I repeat.
We’re alone in her room, hell, we’re alone on the entirety of the upstairs. Mael’s downstairs, but we’re the only ones home. Earlier today, Eirik, Necos, Etrix, and Ciar stayed behind to talk over plans with Anomus about the Royal Showcase extraordinaire that is coming up, and the others had assignments or things to do.
I’ve had all afternoon to myself to get some headway on my project with Necos, but I’ve come to another halting moment that’s pissing me off.
So, instead, I took a leap of faith. But maybe it was a stupid idea.
Of course, it was a stupid idea—you’re a braindead fool, Jasper.
Zoe looks up at me, shakes her head, and grins. “I’m just doing the prep work for my session tomorrow with Necos.”
“Oh, never mind, then—” I say, moving to leave her room.
She closes the book she was reading with some stolen air magicae from Ryes and murmurs a spell too quietly for me to hear, causing her books to disappear from in front of her.
“What was that?” I ask, curious despite myself.
Tucking her hair behind her ears, I catch sight of her blush. “I asked them to return.”
“To where?”
Her giggle shouldn’t be this cute, but, somehow, it is. “Where they belong. Necos’s book has likely returned to the library where I got it from, and my notebook is over there.” She gestures to her desk, where the pale blue notebook is in the section labelled “Spells Practice”, and my brows raise.
Wanting to try out the spell for myself, I move over to where her empty water glass is sitting on her bedside table. My magicae hums under my skin as I say, “ revertere ”. The spells feels foreign on my tongue, but I don’t even blink in case I miss what’s about to happen.
Instantly, the glass disappears, and a grin forms on my face at the possibilities this holds. Until I hear a loud shout from downstairs from Mael about shattered glass. I grimace.
“Don’t worry, it takes some practice on what you can do it with,” she says, and her tone seems to lack any judgement whatsoever, even as the dark spiral of shame takes over my mind. “Things like glasses are really hard because they don’t have a specific spot in the cupboard, you know? Same with clothes and such. But for items that have a specific place, it works wonders.
“Necos has me coming up with spells instead of just relying on learning the ones in the textbook. It’s fun, even if he keeps accusing me of being lazy.”
“I mean… you do find every single reason you can to get out of exercising,” I tease, and she moans. Her cheeks flush red, which is quite cute.
“Okay, but that’s torture . It’s not my fault I’m finding good loopholes he hasn’t thought of.”
“This is one of the things I appreciate most about your upbringing,” I say offhandedly. Her brows draw together. “The outside perspective. You haven’t grown up hearing of the limits and the norms, so you can bring such a… unique view to this world and the abilities we have.”
She gives me a weak smile. “I try to find the positives, but I think me growing up as a human has far too many negatives to ever really be grateful.”
I move her hair out of her eyes because, of course, her wayward curls won’t stay put behind her ears, and lift her chin so that her bright blue eyes are trained on me. “Trust me, sunshine, the fact that you grew up in the human world meant you lived . That is the biggest positive to ever exist.”
“If only it cancelled out the negatives,” she says on a breath, her eyes not even blinking as she seems to see me.
Fuck, I can’t deal with that right now.
“Come with me,” I plead.
“Okay.”
I step back, and she’s a little dazed but gets off the bed, looking at her outfit with a nervous look.
“You’re fine, honest,” I say reassuringly. “Go let the others know we’re going out. I’ve already cleared it with Eirik.”
“Thank you,” she says, so genuinely appreciative, that I can’t even get annoyed at the butterflies that fill me.
Actually, yes, I can. Calm the fuck down, Jasper, you’re acting pathetic.
Unsurprising, since you are pathetic.
“Where are we going?” she asks, and I’m surprised she’s not reacted to my silent thoughts.
“The garden centre. I need a few supplies for my project,” I say, nodding my head to where Mael is still bitching about the broken glasses downstairs. “Go handle that, and we can go.”
I’d understand his annoyance, but they’re not even his glasses. Necos won’t give a fuck about replacing them. Mael is just whining because he wants Zoe’s attention.
Luciola misella et parva.
If only the glass shattered his eyes and he’d stop making moony looks at Zoe, I’d be so much happier.
“I know they’re being mean to you, Jazz, but it would be nice if you didn’t stoop to their level,” Zoe says, and the gentle tone is what hurts more than her words themselves. I can see the genuine sadness in her eyes as she leaves her room, and I let out a sigh.
Of fucking course she picks up on the insult towards her precious Mael and not the damaged shit my brain utters.
These living arrangements are not working well for any of us, but it’s me who is suffering the most. Vexus isn’t technically living here, but he’s enjoying the atmosphere, being around Zoe, and even bonding with the group. To him, this is probably a holiday or some shit.
Necos isn’t too bothered because he can spend most of his time anywhere but here and gets to escape from most of the drama and tension. Plus, other than Eirik, none of the others are truly bothered by taunting him since he doesn’t engage.
Etrix is as miserable as I am with the proximity, but he’s at least got some friends on the inside. Ciar and Eirik seem to fight over who gets to fuck him first that night, and I’m not sure that it’s legal for either of them to do. The rest of the group only target Etrix when he’s the only one around.
But to me? The other five are absolute assholes. Ryes is the biggest shit-stirrer known to mankind and spends all of his time instigating the drama the best way he knows how.
Mael enjoys lighting all of my shit on fire, and then complains to Zoe whenever I make a single noise around him. As if my mere presence just sets him in a bad mood.
Eirik doesn’t give a fuck about his team causing all this shit. If his neglect wasn’t bad enough, his fuse has been so short that he’s even harmed plants by storming around with this cloud over his damn head.
Zohar has arguably been the worst by constantly fucking with my showers. Besides, as the team’s designated healer, I’m shit out of luck because I refuse to ask the water witch for anything.
I don’t really want his treatment, but since I can’t keep portalling in and out of Necos’s place to campus without triggering anything, it means I’m stuck in pain after a training session with no healers around to help me.
Annoyingly for me, Ciar has been truly honing his dark magicae since he bonded with Zoe and Etrix in such a short space of time. He’s powered up, and I’m the one reaping the benefits.
His shadows seems to follow me like a fucking plague. Every time I’m alone, there’s always something lurking in the corner of my eye—just hidden enough that I’ve got to gaslight myself into checking if it’s there.
My fucking shadow doesn’t even feel like my own anymore as it shifts and moves, even when I’m standing still. It creeps closer when I’m focusing and moves to scare me when I’m alone.
It’s like Ciar has practiced exactly how to get under my skin without actually doing anything. It’s not like I can complain to Zoe or Eirik about my own fucking shadow.
The prick that he is.
They’re cunts. All of them.
So the fact that she has the nerve to ask me to not stoop to their level whilst doing fuck all about the shit they’re pulling…
I take a deep breath, slowly relaxing my body and getting a control on my magicae. I want to wrap each one of them up in vines and squeeze the life out of them, watching their faces pale as they gasp and stutter.
I want to see them die at the hands of an earth witch.
I can’t, though, because it would likely kill Zoe. So, instead, I dream about it and pretend that they’re not the worst people I’ve ever met.
“What are you doing in Zoe’s room?” Ryes asks, leaning against the doorway. The blood-soaked joggers and shredded t-shirt he’s wearing tell their own story about his afternoon.
Here we fucking go.
“I was invited in,” I say, keeping my voice neutral. It’s close enough to the truth. “What happened to you?”
He shrugs, casual, as if he isn’t covered in evidence of at least five different deaths. “Since we’re fighting back with the commands of the High Order, we’re getting a bit more bloody on our assignments. This is the result of my fun afternoon.”
“Interesting.”
I thought he was just trying to match his personality—bloody mess and all.
Ryes’s grin spreads slowly, like he’s savouring something. “I love your mind, you know. You’re so rigid, and your thoughts follow that pattern for the most part. But there’s this part of you that’s so unrestrained. A part that’s so… honest. I like that section of your mind the best.”
I groan at the air witch and his mental spying. “Get out of my brain. My thoughts are not for you.”
“I wish I could, but after all of our body swapping earlier, your brain is weirdly like home to me right now,” he says cheerfully. “Hope you and Zoe have a fun time at the garden centre. Can you do me a favour and get me a couple of lotus flowers, please?”
“Why?” I raise a brow at him, not wanting to bring any living thing home for him to harm for his sick amusement.
He holds his hands up in submission. “Trust me, I won’t be harming your pretty plants. I just need them to taunt Ciar over something, and then I’ll let you do your loving on them in private.”
I narrow my eyes and shake my head. “I’m not getting involved in your shit. We’re not people who hurt plants.”
He groans, and some of the light fades out of his expression. “I swore I wouldn’t harm it—why won’t you believe me?”
I raise a brow, refusing to reply.
He groans. “Fine. Basically, when Ciar was a kid, Mael told him that lotus flowers are toxic to dark witches. Something about them being light flowers or some shit.”
“Lotus flowers symbolise darkness returning to light,” I say, tilting my head.
“Yeah, that. So Mael spiked Ciar’s tea with the petals at the same time that Ciar got really, really ill. Huge coincidence —unless you’re a superstitious dark witch. So, now, it’s the funniest thing ever because Ciar is terrified of them.”
I cross my arms and smirk, but ultimately shake my head. “Unfortunately, Ciar’s doing enough mental mind games that I don’t want to make it worse. Fucker is messing with my shadows. I’d really rather fucking not intervene in whatever bullshit this is.”
“You know, we’re trying to involve you in the group dynamics with this behaviour,” Ryes says “This is the way we act with each other, too. Sure, we’re probably being bigger dicks to you just on the principle that you hate us, but that doesn’t mean it’s not our norm to do this to each other, too.”
I scoff. “Fuck off. I’m not an idiot. You’re all teaming up on me and bullying me for the fun of it.”
Ryes steps inside the room and closes Zoe’s door. The air shifts as he enacts a silence barrier around us, his disgusting air magicae settling like a heavy blanket over my skin—suffocating in its airiness.
“Speaking for myself, I hear more than enough in your thoughts to know your struggles. I don’t react, I try my best to ignore what I shouldn’t know… but I still hear it.”
“What do you think you know?” I demand, crossing my arms in front of my chest.
“That you’re depressed and struggling without your usual routine. That you’re lonely but spend all of your time in isolation. That you’re having no mental health support because you can’t access the healers that used to keep you grounded.”
My stomach drops, acid rising in my throat. Each word feels like a physical blow, and I have to fight the urge to wrap my arms around myself—a defensive gesture I thought I trained myself out of years ago.
Instead, I clench my fists together, letting my nails dig into my palm as the pain tries its best to ground me to this moment.
Anger fills me—at Ryes, at my depression , at the constant fucking betrayal from my mind. Who the fuck does it think it is sharing these thoughts with him ?
I don’t need to stand here and be judged by Ryes of all fucking people.
“As you know, I’ve got ADHD. You’re not the only one with a fucked up brain,” Ryes says with a shrug. “I’m pretty ashamed by it, especially when I’ve got to rely on the help from Zohar. But… it always makes me feel better.”
“I get that.”
He nods. “I know. Zoe struggles with her anxiety… we’re all just a little neurotypical. The best people are. But cutting yourself off, not reaching out—I’m sorry. We’re not the best kind of people, but we should’ve tried harder.”
“You should.”
“I’m not arguing with you, mud boy,” Ryes says with a shrug. “I spent time as you earlier, and I’m horrified with how low you’re feeling, with the capacity your brain has to hate on you.”
“Don’t worry, it’s nothing I’ve never heard from others.”
“I get that.” The air witch nods and cracks his knuckles. “One day, when you’re less of a moody cunt, I’ll show you my grand master plan for the death of my dad. It’s plotted out, the funeral, everything . It’s a work of art.”
“I don’t care.”
Ryes cackles, and I don’t know if he can see how much of an evil villain he’s coming across as, but it’s not the vibes that our sweet anima nexum should be around. I glance towards the door, but it doesn’t open.
She must still be kissing Mael’s boo-boos better.
“I’m sorry we’ve not tried harder to help you,” Ryes says, patting my forearm, as serious as he ever could be.
“Would I ever have accepted it?”
Ryes snorts. “No, probably not. But at least you can now.”
“I’m still not going to be your friend.”
Ryes grins. “Are you going to speak to Zohar?”
I sigh, the familiar shame and anxiety bubbling up inside me. I slam it down, burying it under the earth. “Probably not.”
“Oh,” Ryes says with a grimace. “Well, I…”
“Look, I get what you’re trying to do, but one conversation doesn’t fix anything. I’m not going to rely on any of you?—”
“Jazz.” Ryes’s voice cuts through my protest as he gestures to the gold runes on my arms. They shimmer mockingly, a permanent reminder of what I can’t escape. “You might not want to rely on your bond brothers, but we’re going to be in your life until the day you die. Don’t spend it miserable because you don’t want to trust us.”
I groan, the weight of his words settling heavy in my chest. He’s right, to some degree, and that’s what makes it worse. These bonds aren’t going anywhere, but neither are my fears.
If I dared lay my weaknesses bare, if I let them see how deeply fucked up I am, in a world where they are not… it’s something else they can hold over me—something else to taunt me with.
Sure, being afraid of my own shadow is bad. Ciar has made sure of that.
But being scared of my own mind? That’s different. It’s deeper—something untainted by them. They don’t even need to do anything to make that hurt.
My brain, the weight of my past, of my abuse… it does all the work for them.
The men in this house and I, we don’t just share a bond to Zoe—we share a past of abuse, of torture, of pain . But where they survived, where they made it out without too many scars—I made it out with a mental illness.
I refuse to let that be shared.
Ryes’s eyes narrow, and I realise too late he's hearing every thought that I have, hearing every secret I’ve kept tightly locked away.
Fucking air witches.
“If you think that any of us would stoop that low... that we'd ever..." He shakes his head, genuine hurt flashing across his features. "This entire group of people are together for one reason, and one reason only—Zoe. Do you really think a girl that fucking pure would accept people like us, if that’s how we treat those she cares about? Do you think her soul would bond us if that’s the kind of men we are?”
“This isn’t fucking about her.”
Ryes’s laugh is so bitter, so toe-curling, my stomach clenches in pain. “Everything is about her, bro. But you saw the way she acted today, the true distress we’re causing her by not getting along. Not a single one of us is going to allow that to happen again—she can’t stand it, and she shouldn’t have to.”
“And I repeat: this is not about her.”
“It’s only not about her because you’re too fucking scared to accept what she means to you,” Ryes says darkly. “But if you can’t trust us, if you can’t even trust her to help—know that the rest of us would lay down our lives for her, no matter what. So we’re never, ever , going to risk hurting her by hurting you because, whether you accept it or not… hurting you, Jazz, hurts her .”
I clench my jaw so tightly my teeth grind together.
“So trust that, Jasper, even if you can’t trust me.”
“Will you shut up if I just get you the lotus flower?” I mutter, rubbing my cheeks to try and hide my… whatever emotion this is.
Shame? Embarrassment? Frustration?
I don’t know.
Ryes laughs. “I’ll let Zohar know to come and talk to you. He might not drop the shower shit for us, since that’s one of his favourite tricks, but if you tell him showers relax you, he’ll probably make them the best he ever could.”
“And you pull that card how often?”
Ryes smirks and waves away the silence barrier. “I knew you’d be on my side, Jazz. Glad you don’t think of me as your enemy anymore.”
He opens the door, shouting for Zoe because I’m still waiting, and a part of me feels lighter.
It’s strange, and I don’t really trust Ryes… but maybe Zohar’s ethical code might be to my benefit for once.
“Sorry, Mael cut his hand on some glass and was in a lot of pain,” Zoe says a little breathlessly. She smiles at me, and it takes away some of the darkness. “Are you ready to go?”
“Sure. We’ve got to get some lotus flowers, too—please don’t let me forget.”
The words come out easier than expected. Maybe it's Ryes' intervention or maybe it's just Zoe's presence softening my edges like she always does.
Either way, something has shifted—not dramatically, not completely, but enough that the constant tension in my shoulders eases just a fraction. Enough that I might be able to enjoy this trip out alone with my anima nexum without constantly being tugged into darkness.
She nods and takes my hand as I open a portal up for us. Her touch is warm against my perpetually cold skin, a reminder that not everything has to be a battle.
And, sure, I’m probably going to regret getting involved in Ryes’s fight with the dark witch… but right now, I think it’ll be worth it to take some of the power back.
Living in the darkness is shit… but maybe, like those lotus flowers Ryes so badly wants, there’s a way to bloom despite it.