Morgana regarded him for a long mont.
Most students would have stumbled beneath her gaze. rlin didn’t. He never did. That composure was part of what unsettled her.
Finally, she said, "You’ve had no symptoms since the test? No instability?"
"None. My mana flow is steady."
"Show ."
rlin raised his hand. Mana blood at his fingertips, a swirl of color that shifted seamlessly between forms. Blue light for water, gold for lightning, white for wind, and faint silver threads that bent the air around his palm.
Perfectly in sync.
No trembling, no backlash.
Morgana studied it. The power was imnse, yes, but what struck her wasn’t the strength, it was the precision. Every layer moved in rhythm with his breathing, as if the elents themselves were listening to him.
"You’ve improved since the last evaluation," she said.
"I’ve been practicing."
A faint glint touched her eyes. "Practicing control?"
"Practicing silence."
She arched a brow. "Silence?"
"The space between affinities," rlin said. "That mont when everything wants to pull apart. If you listen close enough, you can find balance there."
For a long heartbeat, Morgana said nothing. Then, softly, she smiled. Not the usual cold, formal curve of lips she gave to the faculty, but sothing smaller. Quieter. Almost... respectful.
"You speak like soone who’s seen more than a classroom should offer."
He didn’t answer.
’If only you knew.’
Morgana turned, pacing slowly toward her desk. "You know I’ve kept your profile sealed. Your records. Your test data. I’ve done so to protect you, not because I mistrust you."
rlin said nothing, waiting.
"But yesterday’s readings," she continued, "drew attention beyond this academy. The Ministry’s Mana Regulation Division requested the raw data this morning."
rlin’s eyes flickered. "And you refused."
"Of course." Morgana looked over her shoulder at him. "You’re my student. Until you choose otherwise, this academy answers for you, not the Ministry."
The quiet that followed was thick, sothing unspoken resting in the air between them.
Finally, rlin asked, "How long until they start sending inspectors?"
"Not long," she said. "They’ll co under the guise of auditing research procedures, but what they want is you. Or rather, what you represent."
rlin nodded once, as if he’d already expected it.
"I’ll keep my head low," he said.
"Do," Morgana replied, her tone firm but not harsh. "But rember, hiding too well invites suspicion. Sotis visibility is the best disguise."
He gave a faint smirk. "You sound like you’ve done this before."
Her golden eyes glead with quiet amusent. "I’ve had a few lifetis to learn the dance."
She waved her hand, and the air shimred, a projection forming above her desk. The data from the Convergence Do, simplified into a pattern of colors.
In its center pulsed a dim white core, that sa hidden resonance.
Morgana watched it for a mont, then said, "This distortion... it didn’t appear in any of Nathaniel’s readings. Only yours."
rlin’s gaze lingered on it. "Then it’s sothing inside ."
"Do you know what?"
He shook his head. "Not yet."
Morgana studied him. "When you do, tell ."
"I will," he said.
She nodded, though sothing in her expression said she didn’t quite believe him.
Then, softly: "You’re dismissed, rlin. And... be careful."
He inclined his head, turning to leave. But just as he reached the door, Morgana’s voice stopped him.
"rlin."
He glanced back.
Her tone softened, the iron stripped away. "You carry things too easily. Don’t forget to live while you’re busy surviving."
For a mont, rlin said nothing. Then, almost quietly: "...I’ll try."
And then he was gone, the door whispering shut behind him.
Morgana stood there for a while after. Her gaze fixed on the projection, that small white core, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat.
Eventually, she whispered to herself, "Try, but don’t fail."
Outside, clouds rolled across the sky, faint thunder rumbling in the distance, a low, restrained growl of power.
And sowhere deep in the academy’s wards, the faint white pulse of that hidden resonance shimred again, unseen, unheard, but alive.
The training field was drenched in silver rain.
Thin streams ran along the stone paths, puddles forming beneath the old sparring posts, the air heavy with the clean scent of wet earth and steel.
rlin stood in the center of the field, hair darkened by water, eyes half-closed as droplets traced down his jaw. He wasn’t wearing a uniform, just a black shirt, sleeves rolled up, bandages coiled loosely around his forearms.
It felt good. Real. Quiet.
He hadn’t had a mont like this in months.
’Too long,’ he thought, flexing his fingers. The air responded to him now like a heartbeat, the threads of his affinities humming faintly just beneath the surface. Lightning whispered at his fingertips, water gathered against his skin, wind stirred lightly around his shoulders. Space itself felt like it leaned closer, waiting.
The sound of boots splashing against the puddles drew his attention.
Nathaniel Varen approached from across the field, dripping wet but smiling, that sa boyish grin that never really changed, even after everything. His black hair clung to his face, his eyes dark blue, sharp but kind.
"Told you I’d make it before you started without ," Nathan said.
rlin smirked. "Barely."
"Please, I’m the one who suggested this spar. You’re lucky I didn’t oversleep."
They stood a few paces apart now, the rain between them falling in slow, silver threads. Around the periter, a handful of students had gathered, word of a duel between Everhart and Varen spread faster than lightning.
Even Elara had shown up, standing at the far archway beneath a conjured canopy of earth to keep the rain off her. Her expression was unreadable, though her eyes stayed fixed on rlin.
Nathan drew his daggers, the twin blades humming faintly with mana, one crackling with lightning, the other shimring with water.
"First to yield?" he asked.
"Or until you can’t stand," rlin replied lightly.
Nathan grinned. "I’ll try not to die then."
rlin lifted his hand. "You won’t."
Lightning cracked between them.
The world exploded into motion.
Nathan vanished in a blur of blue and black, reappearing at rlin’s flank with a sharp slash, fast, precise, refined. The blade sang against the air. rlin moved just enough, a shift of weight, a whisper of wind, and the dagger cut nothing but rain.
Nathan didn’t pause. He twisted, bringing his other blade around in a sweeping arc, water laced with lightning. rlin caught it on his forearm, the bandages shimring faintly as his own mana surged.
The impact sent a shockwave through the puddles, scattering droplets like glass.
Nathan leapt back, breathing steady, eyes gleaming. "You didn’t even use an affinity for that, did you?"
rlin tilted his head. "Would it help if I did?"
"Oh, absolutely not."
Nathan charged again.
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