Not casual.
Not rhetorical.
A reminder.
Sten’s jaw tightened slightly.
Professor Kenna stepped fully into the corridor then, dark robes whispering across ancient stone.
“I did not bring you to the Asgarheim Runevald Institute merely to sharpen your gifts,” she said. “You came here because your control was deteriorating.”
Silence.
My heartbeat stumbled painfully.
I glanced toward Sten instinctively.
His expression had gone still.
Too still.
Like he’d locked something dangerous deep behind his ribs.
Professor Kenna continued relentlessly.
“The weight of the power you carry is bigger than yourself.” Her green eyes sharpened. “You know this.”
The air around Sten shifted subtly.
Not visible magic exactly.
Pressure.
Like standing too close to an incoming storm.
“And yet,” she said carefully, “I watched you nearly lose yourself over a hallway altercation.”
“It wasn’t merely a hallway altercation,” Sten replied quietly.
Oh.
Oh gods.
That voice.
Low.
Controlled.
Barely restrained.
I felt it physically.
Professor Kenna’s gaze hardened.
“That is precisely the problem.”
The words cracked through the corridor like ice breaking.
