When Tyler showed up to work, he managed to get all the way to the back room before someone noticed. Charles flew the back door, saw Tyler and dropped the tray in his hands.
"Woah," Charles began, "shit tye, I didn't know you were here."
Tyler knelt down and helped pick up the shattered mugs, "Just got here."
"How'd I not notice?"
Tyler shrugged, "Looks busy out there. You were probably distracted."
After tossing the mugs in the trash, Tyler did everything in his power to pass the time. His thoughts remained on the book, which sat in his car, begging to be opened. He was eager to begin, the only thing capable of drawing his attention being the fact that he routinely startled and bumped into Charles and max as he went about his work.
When the shift was over, he rushed home, sat down, and set the book on the desk. He opened the book, and tilted his head at the sight of blank pages. There were words there before. Where did they go?
He thumbed through the pages, each just as blank as the first, "All right, book. What the hell? Show me something."
The book responded, flipping its pages to the front of the book and listing a table of contents.
"Thank you." Tyler said, smiling as he scanned the page. He saw a few terms Morrigan never mentioned, Arcana Creatorae, Arcana Prima, and other forms of power. He saw terms he recognized, ones that Morrigan mentioned, Arcana Ignis, Formulae… Sanguis.
"Arcana Sanguis," tyler commanded, and the book vibrated, a slight shake as it tried to obey and either refused, or failed,"Why won't you show me?" Ink dripped down the page, red and thick. The entire spread filled with it, pouring off the page and into his lap, onto the floor, and across his desk. He jumped up, trying to avoid it. When he did, he looked and say the ink was gone, no mess had occured, and the pages of the book were blank, a warning to turn back.
"Show me, please," he said, and the book shuddered once more. Tyler sat back in his seat, flipped the pages and examined every inch of the book. He stumbled on a blemish in the leather, a tear. He examined further, finding a series of symbols carved on the inside of the back cover.
He traced the lines as they formed shapes within shapes, the center symbol resembling a tear drop. That's odd, he thought, this wasn't there yesterday. Did Morrigan do this, or was it just another side effect of the candlelight?
He stared at the sigils, unsure of what to do. "Arcana Formulae," he said, and the book obeyed. He flipped through the pages as he tried to figure out what the sigils on the back cover were for. He cross-referenced every shape, every symbol, and as he suspected, someone locked The Scarlet Arts on this particular copy.
He opened the desk drawer, retrieved a small knife, and flipped to the back cover. He cut a single line through the sigil, then another, severing a small section of leather from the book. He tossed the piece aside, then looked at the book. "Sorry," he said, unsure if the book even cared. "Arcana Sanguis, please."
The book shuddered again, but reluctantly obeyed, flipping the pages slowly as if it hoped Tyler would change his mind as he waited. The book sat motionless and a page with words written in red ink.
He barely understood a word of it. With no frame of reference, he could only infer what the passion was, or what terms like "scarlet rapture" meant. The genre seemed focused on walking a fine line between murderous tranquility, and crippling addiction. It was power, but at a high price.
He explored the subject well into the morning hours. The act of using blood in arcane practice is one of the oldest forms of the prestige, but also the most controversial. The power available is varied beyond compare, often dependent on whether blood is willingly given, or forcebly taken. It took a special kind of person to master the genre, and Tyler felt confident that didnt include him. As the days went by, he expanded his study to genres he found more palatable.
He came to understand the prestige so much more. He tried to imagine the static, an extension of the self like a formless limb capable of reaching any distance with enough effort. Morrigan routinely quizzed him on random subjects, often making him study If he failed to answer correctly. After a week or two, he could cast sigils and enchantments. Despite his progress, he wasn't sure the risk of the rite was worth it.
The prestige is random. If you wake from the rite, there are some things you're guaranteed to be capable of, but there is no telling what the extent of your power could be. It wasn't just the rite. After weeks, he wondered why they were still in Maine. They were marked for death, but Morrigan took her time in preparing their trip, even scheduling a stop in New York for reasons he still didn't understand. He didnt have the courage to ask. perhaps she was waiting for them to strike again.
He finally spoke up one night, his mind wandering with his head resting gently on her lap. He was half asleep, Morrigan playing with his hair.
“What exactly is it that's hunting us?” He asked.
“I've pissed off quite a few people in my time. Governments, cults, and corporations alike. It could be any number of them. I’m not a popular person.”
He sat up, forcing his eyes open to stay awake, “Why is that?”
“Depends on who you ask.”
Tyler rolled his eyes, “I'm asking you."
She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, “Being a cultist has it's disadvantages. In fact, my money is on the cult I was a part of being the one that wants me dead. ”
“What happened? Why would they want to kill you?”
“These tattoos” She stopped and pointed to the red threads on her arm. “We have no idea what they mean, but they are our most sacred text, our bible. We are the only surviving cult who worships The Red Maiden. That’s because everyone else is dead.”
“That’s a little bleak.”
She scoffed, “You think? These were holy wars fought over something we can't even read. Gemma and I had radically different ideas on the subject. She believes she’s interpreted it correctly, I believe that we should know what it says before enforcing it. I lost that fight.”
“Wouldn’t that mean your goddess picked a side?”
“She doesn't pick sides.” Morrigan replied. “Never has. When I met Lisbeth, before I blacked out, I heard The Maiden speaking to me. She touched my cheek. It's why my hair grew. I doubt she's forsaken me."
“I thought you said you didn't know. You said it terrified you.”
“It did.” She said, “Something else came through with her.”
Tyler shook his head, “Why would she endanger you?”
“I don't think she did. It’s complicated. I still can’t remember much.”
“How’d you get involved in a cult?”
Morrigan leaned forward, “When I was a little girI, I had monsters in my closet.”
“Monsters?”
She nodded, “Growing up in the middle of nowhere does that. Turns out I was right. These monsters were real. I don't remember much of my parents, but I do remember how they died. That is how I gained the candlelight.”
“Oh my god,” Tyler began, but Morrigan continued before he could speak again.
“Don't worry, no baggage here. A cursed blessing of my condition: The human brain isn't meant to hold so many memories. The longer I live, the easier it is to forget things. I barely remember what the looked like.”
“Oh,” Tyler said. He shifted in his seat, distancing himself, “what does this have to do with your faith?”
Morrigan smiled. “While these beasts searched for me, I heard the most beautiful voice: a woman calling my name from the closet door. I opened the door to hide inside.”
“And?” Tyler asked.
“When I opened the door I saw a woman. She wore nothing, with the smoothest pale skin. She rested in a cradle of her own hair, so long it would put Rapunzel to shame. It filled the closet to bursting.” Morrigan straightened herself on the couch as her eyes glazed over, “I thought I was going to die, thinking I couldn't struggle against something so beautiful. She picked me up, the way a mother would, and gave me a kiss on the cheek. She protected me. I’m not sure why she guided me for so long, no one else received that treatment. I’d hate to call myself special, however, I like to think I am. It's a guilty pleasure of mine.”
“Then you wanted to separate from the cult?” He asked.
Morrigan nodded, “Me and those who sided with me had differing opinions on the faith. After the schism, all my friends were dead. I left the cult, and helped Damon form the Oxford cabal, where we study the prestige, among other things.” She pressed her lips together and sighed, “That may be one too many stories.” she smiled, “Feel special. I have never told that one before.”
“You helped form a cabal?”
“I said no more stories.”
“So?” He began as his phone rang. “Can’t hurt to ask.” he shuffled it out of his pocket, “Max?”
“What?” Morrigan said.
Tyler’s eyes went wide. It was close to midnight. He answered, put it on speaker, and listened.
“Tyler,” Clara said. She sounded cold, her lips quivering as she spoke.
“Clara?” Tyler replied, “Is something wrong?”
Morrigan stared at the floor, listening in with her eyes closed. What followed was not an answer, but a series of wails and sobs. Morrigan stood up immediately, throwing on her coat and grabbing her cane. She listened again, then shook her head.
Tyler stood up slowly, “I’m on my way,” he said, but Morrigan shook her head again.
“No,” she said as she moved to the door, “I can get there faster, and you have no way to defend yourself. I can't look after both of us. This is something else.”
He was about to protest, but gave in. The way her eyes darted about the room, the way her mouth twitched, all left a sinking feeling in his stomach. She was cold, she was angry, and somthing about that silent rage shook him to the bone..
I'm enjoying these chapters explaining your magic system. However, they are very information-dense, kind of like an exposition dump. This is being countered by the semi-action within the chapter, but not everyone would like this kind of chapter within a book. Another thing to note, you seem to use "Line," SOMEONE began, "end line" a lot as a dialogue tag. This isn't the best to use frequently unless they're cut off. Splitting lines, as well, is only something you should do if you want a pause to automatically be put in between the words in the sentence. A division of thought, of sorts. You also have time rapidly pass but you don't say much about what happens in that time. I'd suggest mentioning a little more than just several days passed. Maybe how Tyler progresses and what he does with Morrigan vs without Morrigan considering she locked him out of the Scarlet Arts. Again, there are a few typos left to sift through.