27. Zohar
27
ZOHAR
I knock on Jasper’s bedroom door. The heavy bass of whatever angry music he’s been blasting cuts off abruptly, leaving an almost painful silence as I stand here waiting to be invited in.
Even from here, I can sense the protective magicae woven into his walls—a barrier between him and the rest of us, as always.
He coughs once, twice, before shouting. “Who is it?”
“Me,” I say, opening his door before he can shout at me to go away. He’s been avoiding me, ever since Ryes spilled the beans on Monday night, and I’ve been nice, truly.
I’ve given him a full thirty-six hours or so to come to terms with my involvement, but I refuse to wait any longer when I can feel the depths of his despair from here.
Jasper groans, throwing himself back down on his bed with a force that would probably have put him through the floor if his bed weren’t magicaelly reinforced.
“Well, that’s not a very nice welcoming,” I say sarcastically.
I let myself examine his room, taking a spy into the mind of our earth witch. It’s quite sparse and utilitarian, if you ignore the countless plants lining his windowsill. They’re the only real sign of life in here, their leaves reaching desperately for what little sunlight makes it through the partially closed curtains.
Poor things.
The few belongings he does have in here are meticulously organised, the books aligned perfectly on the shelves, and I have no doubt he’s got spells woven into their location just in case. His bedsheets are all rumpled from where he’s clearly been tossing and turning, but the bed itself is made.
It’s strangely not what I’d expect from him—less of an… open space and more of a physical manifestation of his dark mind.
“Did you expect anything different?” Jasper asks.
I grin and shake my head. “ Silentium .” My magicae is practically absorbed into the walls as it bounces off some spell that’s already surrounding the bedroom. “What on Earth is that?”
“Literally—what on Earth,” Jasper says dryly. “Earth witch, remember?”
How could I forget?
“Why do you have a spell over your room?” I touch the walls and try to assess what he has there, but there’s nothing that my magicae can detect. Impressive. “A hidden spell, at that.”
“To prevent you assholes using magicae to fuck up my room.” His words are a vicious snarl, and I’m taken aback by the level of hostility. It hits differently now, knowing what I know—less like the angry lashing out I’ve gotten used to and more like someone who’s been pushed too far into their corner.
I clench my fists, spinning to face him properly. “Who the fuck tried to do that?”
He shakes his head quickly. “Nobody, but I wouldn’t put it past any of you.”
I move to sit down at his desk, ignoring the sneer on his face. It won’t be a productive conversation if I let him get too into his anger and isolating thoughts, and I need him to understand that he’s not alone—that I’m here to help.
“Bedrooms are off-limits. Permanent harm is off limits. Physical pain is permitted to a degree.” I recite the unwritten rules that govern our group’s… interactions . Rules we established long ago, not just for fun but because we understand the fine line between playful antagonism that gives us an outlet and true pain— true harm.
Rules that, as I look at Jasper now, see the way he’s been isolating himself out of fear , may need revisiting.
“Precious personal belongings are off limits,” I continue, watching his reaction closely. “Messing with sleep is off limits, as is anything that can be damaging to your health.”
“But your mental health is totally fine to fuck with?” he interrupts with a scoff. “Ciar can fuck with my shadows, and Mael can light my towels and clothes and fucking shoes on fire, but as long as you all let me get my eight hours of rest, I’m good?”
“Did you or did you not cover every single one of my shoes with dirt the same day you moved in?” I ask, raising my brow at him. My tone is cool and calm, not rising to the same level of venom that his has. Someone needs to stay in control. “Did you not encourage the plants to grow and cover Etrix’s bedroom window so he can’t access the sun there before he did a single thing to you? Did you not?—?
“What is your point?” Jasper demands gruffly, sitting up in his bed. “I was lying here peacefully until you decided to come in and have a go at me. Get the fuck out of here, and take your admonishment to someone who gives a shit.”
I lean back in the chair. “My point here is that you’re not the only victim in this house. If your mind is trying to convince you that we’re bullying you out of dislike or that we’re trying to get rid of you or hurt you…”
He sighs, and the temperature in the room seems to rise a few notches as he gains some control over himself. “Ryes.”
I nod. “Ryes.”
The air witch is one of the most strategic men I know, and the simple fact that he’s so chaotic hides the depth of his smarts. He’s always the one people seem to overlook, the one people forget to watch out for.
And like the genius that he is, Ryes uses that to his advantage more often than not.
“Don’t get me wrong, he rarely betrays the secrets of someone’s mind, and, knowing you, I guarantee there’s some fun shit you’re hiding from us,” I say, trying to inject some light-heartedness into this conversation. “But his line is something that is damaging—something that could harm. I won’t ask questions, I won’t force you to talk about it. Hell, I’ll even swear upon my magicae that I won’t tell a single soul.”
I don’t know if I’m having any effect on the earth witch, if any part of him can trust me, but his eyes light up at that. “Any soul?”
It’s clear who he’s worried about.
“Yes, any soul—including our lovely soul witch anima nexum ,” I reassure him. “But you need to understand something, Jazz. You’re one of us—one of hers— and just because that means nothing to you doesn’t mean we all feel the same way.”
“It… it doesn’t mean nothing.”
Well, reading between the lines of his double negatives is fun, but I’d prefer he was just fucking honest. Still, he’s a lot easier to read right now, and the way his shoulders tense at the mention of our mate is telling.
Even more so is the way the plants on his windowsill seem to stretch towards us at the mere mention of her name. His magicae betrays him, warming the air slightly, and it’s clear.
Jasper cares for her—if not loves her.
But he won’t allow himself to be near her.
Fear of tainting her, maybe? Fear of her healing him? I don’t know, but I’d love to understand.
“Well, that’s good,” I say, trying to shift back to professionalism. “So, with that said—I will not have a single member of this household truly suffering when I can do something about it. Your mind is a liar, and the longer you let it twist you up, the more damage it will do to you, your bond with Zoe, and, more importantly, your primordium .”
Jasper sighs and sits up properly. “I hear you.”
“Good. So tell me how the fuck I can help.”
He grunts and looks up at the ceiling. “I can’t sleep properly, like, at all. I’m exhausted and constantly running on a few hours of sleep. An hour here, a few hours there. I make it three, maximum, before… well, before I wake up.”
Before the dreams start, maybe? Fuck me, he needs help.
“Does anything help?” I ask, my tone purely clinical.
“The plants.” A blush coats his olive-skinned cheeks. “Zoe.”
“I’m not surprised, even without letting our mate use her energy to soothe your soul, just being around a soul witch will do wonders.”
He sighs. “I don’t want her to know.”
“Then don’t tell her. It’s your mental health and your choice as to what you want to share. With that said, add a training session with Zoe every single day in the green house, and, if you can stomach it… let her boost your soul.”
He groans but doesn’t look away, still content on having this conversation. “We’re not… things are…”
“I did not mean sexually,” I say, trying my best to keep my doctor voice on. It’s unsurprising to know they’re not at that stage at all right now, though.
Jasper’s determined to keep his walls up so he can protect his secret, and Zoe’s too nice to push.
“I mean magicaelly . Zoe’s a soul witch, and she can ease the pain on your soul—ease the burden. She often does it without even thinking to those receptive of her magicae.”
“Well, that was a dig that didn’t need to hurt as much as it did.”
“It wasn’t meant to be a dig,” I reassure him. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not true. Your anima nexum is a soul witch. Let her magicae help work out some of the distress.”
He groans, giving me a look of disgust. “This is why I avoid healers.”
I grin at him. “And this is why I came to seek you out. Now, can I touch you or will that send you to your grave?”
“If you touch me with anything other than your hand, I’ll cut it fucking off,” Jasper says, moving to lay down on his stomach. He rests his head on the pillow. “I hate that I need your help with this.”
“Well, I like helping and really don’t mind,” I say, moving over to the bed. The plants lean away as I approach, and it’s helpful to have this insight—Jasper is nervous and scared. But I can work with that.
I sit down next to him and take note of how his breathing changes, how his magicae curls defensively beneath his skin. When I rest my hand on his lower back and close my eyes, I half expect his magicae to reject me entirely.
Thankfully, he restrains himself.
I let my magicae assess his spine, my power flowing easily through his system. Each point of tension glows like a warning beacon in my mind’s eye—dark spots where pain has made its home, knots of stress that pulse an angry red, and healthy areas are a beautiful earth green.
He’s got a bone that hasn’t fully healed in his left hand that I easily fix—likely from a recent training session that he’s refused to seek my help for.
But there’s something more troubling. The muscles in his neck and shoulders are tight, coiled with stress and pain. I can feel this tension running all down his spine, see the flashing red areas screaming for help.
They’re all over his body, and I have no idea how he’s been functioning like this. Some healer I am—I’ve been fucking with his showers while he’s been barely holding himself together.
No wonder he couldn’t trust me to help.
There’s a buildup of stress in his frontal lobe, and I focus on calming that area, letting the magicae gently smooth out the pressure. It’s subtle, but I can feel his body relaxing under my hand.
I don’t know if he’s been getting frequent headaches, but I do my best to calm the swelling.
None of these are permanent fixes, but helping him like this will ease the burden for a little while.
“There’s a lot of tension in your mind.” My voice is quiet, and I try to be soothing. “It’s likely contributing to your trouble sleeping. Your magicae is trying to help balance out the mental strain, but it can’t do any more without help.”
Jasper lets out a heavy sigh, his body sinking further into the mattress, as if he can’t stomach being touched by me.
“That’s just fucking great,” he mutters. “Even my own brain is working against me.”
“It’s not working against you, Jazz,” I reassure him. “It’s just been overwhelmed, and you’ve gone cold turkey with your treatment. You just need some support.”
I continue letting my magicae expand through his body, noticing his immune system’s sluggish responses. His body can’t heal as quickly as it should, and his primordium isn’t able to replenish as effectively.
“Your body is fighting against itself,” I add, still using the quiet and calm tone that he seems to favour.
“Great. So, now I’m mentally and physically broken? Yay me.”
“You’re not broken,” I say firmly. “But you are worn down. You need to rest, and if you’re open to it…”
“Yeah, yeah. I accept help, and you make me healthy and happy. Whoop!”
I roll my eyes and move away to sit back down at his desk. I spot a few books and papers scattered around—a few books I’ve read. “Speaking of help, how is your progress going with your project?”
He sits up into a seating position and sneers at me. “What?”
“The one you and Necos are working on? The one that’s got you so locked away at all hours of the day?” I prompt.
He seems distrustful. “It’s not really any of your business, is it?”
Fuck me. It seems like trying to have a normal conversation with him is going to be fucking hard.
“My thesis for my healing degree is working on the medicinal benefits an earth witch can provide,” I say, switching up the focus a little to try and get him to open up. “I think combining an earth witch’s natural talents with my healing magicae could result in a lot more benefits.”
“We’re really fucking struggling without soul witches, and we’ve done little to fill the gaps,” Jasper says, and I nod.
For once, the bitterness in his voice isn’t directed at us but at the larger problem. It’s refreshing to see him angry about something that actually matters, rather than our petty house disputes.
“It doesn’t help that Etonik, the great glory fucking hunter, refuses to let anything of real help out in the world,” I mutter bitterly.
Jasper snorts, shaking his head in amusement. “I like the sound of that premise, though. Necos and I are working on a project where we are using his time magicae to alter the reality for plants so that we’re not waiting weeks or months for certain things to grow. It’s a mess, honestly.”
“Because whilst it could be as quick as minutes…” I trail off with wide eyes. He nods. “What about the implications on their natural lifespan?”
He sighs, but not because I’m asking questions. It’s the one of an intellect who’s facing complications and is beating against a wall to try and fix them.
That’s my language.
“That’s what we’re struggling with. He can easily modify their reality, but it’s not only distorting the connection I share with the plant, but it’s also causing them to… suffer.”
I nod my head, thinking it over. “What about utilising Ryes’s mind bond?”
He frowns. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you have access to our bond, right?” I ask, and he nods slowly. “Well, I’m presuming you don’t want Zoe to be the one to like… fix this for you both as you need a solution that works for the entire magicael population, right?”
He nods, and I can’t help but grin. Finally—a glimpse of the real Jasper beneath all that armour. I love these kinds of chats, but more than that, I love seeing him engage without that constant edge of suspicion.
Eirik’s great when he’s in the mood to bounce ideas with, but, at the moment, he’s often too preoccupied with Zoe’s safety. And the rest of them, well, they don’t really care about school work or doing much outside of their specialities.
But I love it. We can do so much with our magicae, and yet, as a population, we’re so segregated, so focused on keeping with our kind of magicae, that we’re missing what we could do, the ways we could thrive.
It doesn’t help that Etonik fucking thrives off this segregation and utilises it to keep himself in power, to continue hiding the shit he can do.
“So, an air witch can open a mind link to you and potentially even to the plant. For testing, Zoe would be an amazing source, even if she’s just sitting in the room, working. She can hear the plants, too, and you can hear her, right?”
He nods his head, thinking it over. “Ryes would never really go for it.”
I shrug. “He’s not the most focused when it comes to school work, sure, but if this is something that’s important to you, he can add your flowers to the link. He can probably even manipulate one for you to utilise.”
Jasper nods and mulls it over. “Do you think it’s interesting that so many from our generation are so focused on uniting and utilising all of the branches of magicae to replace soul witches… and we’ve got two in our bond?”
I grin at him. “It’s definitely fate. She’s going to be able to do so much good for the world.”
“And then it’s wasted in Vexus, who is the most selfish man I’ve ever met,” Jasper says with a sigh.
I laugh. “Maybe. But maybe, like you, he’s on the outside and doesn’t know how to make it into what is deemed the inner circle .”
Jasper rolls his eyes, but there’s none of the usual hatred in the act. I’ve been seeing it as a way for him to maintain the distance because he feels like he’s better than us, that he resents Zoe for dragging him into this life.
But it’s never been that. He’s been struggling alone, and every single day he’s spent here is a day he’s not been accessing the mental health treatment that he needs to survive.
I’m pissed that I missed it, the signs all but screaming at us while we played our petty games. My hands clench at my sides, my magicae responding to my agitation by making the air heavy with moisture.
The nine of us are Zoe’s support system, but we’re also each other’s support—or we should be. Some healer I am, too caught up in my own bullshit to notice one of our own drowning.
“Bonding time is over, water witch. You can see yourself out.”
I get up from his desk and nod. “Dinner will be at seven tonight. Be present or I’ll send Zoe to drag you there.”
Jasper laughs, but unlike his usual scathing one, this laugh has an air of authenticity to it. It’s a small thing, maybe, but it feels like a victory. I’ve helped ease the burden from his mind, at least for now, and hopefully… I can keep him from letting it get so heavy.
We need a group meeting to get on the same page because, this way of living… it’s not good for any of us. We can’t let the darkness around us dampen the way—we need to find a way to work together or we risk losing more than just our bond.
We risk losing ourselves.