Morgana regarded him for a long moment.
Most students would have stumbled beneath her gaze. Merlin 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 me."
Merlin raised his hand. Mana bloomed 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 immense, yes, but what struck her wasn't the strength, it was the precision. Every layer moved in rhythm with his breathing, as if the elements 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?"
