CHAPTER 268: BACK TO GEAR (8)

The observatory sat high above the main halls, reached by a spiral of cold stone steps. Each level grew quieter, the world outside fading into the sound of distant wind.

When they emerged, Morgana was waiting.

She stood by the wide glass window, the city sprawling far below like veins of light. The morning had aged into golden noon, sunlight striking her silhouette, tracing silver along the edges of her hair.

"Irelle," she said without turning.

"Evaluation delivered, Headmistress."

"Leave us."

The door sealed softly behind the professor.

Silence.

Merlin stood a few paces back, hands loosely at his sides. The air here was dense, not suffocating, but ancient, layered with a presence that made even his skin tingle.

Morgana spoke without looking at him. "Do you know why I assigned you that team?"

He hesitated. "...Because they were unpredictable."

She turned, faint smile touching her lips. "And you thrive in unpredictability. Or rather, you need it."

Her eyes met his fully now, piercing, intelligent, unreadable.

"You could have dominated that field," she said. "You didn’t. You let them move. You studied them. You managed them."

Merlin didn’t respond.

"That," she continued softly, "is both strength and danger. You lead without claiming leadership. That unsettles people. The academy breeds competitors, not followers."

He tilted his head slightly. "Then you disapprove?"

"I didn’t say that."

She walked closer, the faint tap of her heels echoing in the chamber. "I watched you fight. I’ve watched you since you arrived. Your control is... unnatural. Not in power, in precision. Every affinity user develops habits, flaws, residue. You have none. It’s like you learned outside the laws that bind us."

Merlin’s pulse tightened once, a barely perceptible flicker.

Morgana saw it.

Her smile deepened, not cruel, but knowing. "You don’t have to tell me, Merlin. Every mage carries secrets. I just need to know one thing."

Her voice lowered.

"When the time comes, will you use that control for yourself, or for others?"

He looked at her. And for the first time in a long while, didn’t have an immediate answer.

"...I’ll decide when it matters," he said finally.

Morgana studied him a moment longer, then nodded. "Fair."

She turned back to the window. "Go rest. There will be a banquet tonight. The returning students deserve one day of peace before the next storm."

Merlin inclined his head slightly and turned to leave.

As he reached the door, her voice came again, soft, almost a whisper.

"Merlin."

He stopped.

"You remind me of someone I once knew. He thought the same way you do."

"...What happened to him?"

Morgana’s smile was faint, eyes distant. "He stopped deciding for himself."

The silence that followed wasn’t heavy, it was thoughtful.

Merlin nodded once, then stepped out into the light.

By the time he reached the courtyard again, the academy had returned to its usual rhythm. Students talked, laughed, compared bruises. The energy felt alive again, no longer a battlefield but a hive of restless potential.

Leira and Dain were by the fountain, reviewing rune notes. The twins argued over who landed more hits. Renn sat on the edge of the basin, eating what looked like a fried mana-bun.

When he spotted Merlin, he raised it in salute. "Survived the queen’s gaze, huh?"

"Barely," Merlin said dryly.

Leira glanced up. "Private evaluation?"

He nodded.

"And?"

"Nothing unusual."

She didn’t look convinced but didn’t press.

Renn stretched, yawning. "Banquet tonight. Finally, something with food that isn’t ration paste."

Sera grinned. "Careful. You might burn the dining hall down if you get too excited."

"I’d call that a public service."

Merlin let their chatter wash over him, a faint warmth settling somewhere deep in his chest. For the first time since returning to the academy, it felt... normal. Almost peaceful.

He tilted his head toward the main hall where banners were being hung, crimson, indigo, gold, each one marking the houses of the academy. The scent of spice and mana-fruit drifted faintly from the kitchens.

For now, it really was peace.

But he could feel the undercurrent beneath it, the weight of Morgana’s words, the curiosity in the instructors’ eyes, the way the world itself seemed to lean closer whenever he acted.

The novel he thought he knew was beginning to change around him.

And for reasons he couldn’t yet name, he didn’t mind.

By dusk, the academy had transformed.

Where hours ago the courtyards rang with spellfire and shouting, now golden lanterns floated in the air, each casting slow, spiraling ribbons of light across the open terrace.

Tables lined the marble walkways, laden with silver platters of roasted game, glimmerfruit, sugared nuts, and crystalline drinks that shimmered with faint mana currents.

Music drifted from somewhere, strings and soft percussion, elegant, but just lively enough to feel real.

The Banquet of Lights, as the academy called it. A tradition held at the end of every major trial. A celebration of survival as much as success.

Merlin arrived last.

His uniform jacket was loosened, sleeves rolled just above the wrists. His hair, usually careless, had fallen just enough over his eyes to make him look sharper than he meant to. He paused at the terrace steps, scanning the crowd, students clustered in little groups, laughter rising and falling like waves.

"Merlin! Over here!"

Renn waved from a table near the center. The rest of Team S was already gathered, Leira half-slouched in her chair, Sera picking fruit off every plate within reach, and Dain already mid-debate with a second-year about the ethics of mana weaponry.

Merlin walked over, weaving through the clusters of students. The warm glow of lanternlight caught the edge of his golden eyes as he approached.

Renn grinned up at him. "Finally. We were betting on whether you’d even show."

"Who lost?" Merlin asked, sitting down.

Leira pointed a fork at Renn. "He did. I told him you hate parties less than you hate being bored."

Sera smirked. "We’re still not sure which one wins out though."

Merlin gave a faint shrug, lips twitching. "I’ll try not to ruin the curve."

Their laughter blended easily with the noise around them. For a while, they ate, or in Sera’s case, devoured, in comfortable silence. The air smelled of spice and smoke, and the faint hum of mana lights gave everything a dreamlike edge.

Then, the music shifted.

From the grand entrance at the far end of the terrace, new figures stepped in, instructors, dignitaries, senior students. Conversations lowered automatically, like a ripple moving through still water.

At the center of that ripple walked her.

Elara.

Even in a hall full of glowing lights and silk uniforms, she was distinct. Her silver hair fell smooth and luminous down her back, threaded with a single violet ribbon. Her dress was simple, soft ivory trimmed with pale blue, but somehow made everything else around her fade into background.

Her ears twitched faintly as eyes turned her way, but her expression never broke its calm.

She wasn’t trying to draw attention. She simply couldn’t avoid it.

Leira leaned toward Merlin, smirking. "You’re staring."

Merlin didn’t move his eyes. "Observation."

"Sure," Renn said. "Observation with longing."

Sera snorted into her drink.

Merlin looked at them flatly. "You’re children."

Leira grinned. "And you’re transparent."

He would’ve answered, but then Elara’s gaze met his.