This time he didn't go for speed, he used darkness. The shadows along the field stretched, twisting upward like ribbons, obscuring his path. Lightning flared inside the gloom, sudden, bright, blinding.
Merlin moved through it as if he'd been waiting for it.
Wind erupted beneath his step, his form flickering like mirage-light, and in the next instant, Nathan's blade met nothing.
Then—
Merlin's palm struck lightly against Nathan's chest. A pulse of controlled lightning rippled outward, throwing the boy back several meters through the rain.
Nathan landed hard, sliding across the slick stone. His daggers clattered away. But before anyone could speak, he was laughing, genuinely, breathlessly.
"You could've ended it there," he said, looking up through the rain.
Merlin stepped closer, hand lowering. "You're holding back."
"So are you."
"Maybe."
Nathan grinned wider, standing again, water trickling from his chin. "Then don't. You've been different lately. I want to see it."
