Ronan had made progress, sure, but progress was still just a fancy way of saying he wasn't a complete and utterly hopeless disaster. I needed him to be more than that. If he was going to be useful, he needed control—not just of his magic, but of himself. The parasite was a living conduit, doing the equivalent of what a super-powered toddler would do with a buster blade. This just meant I had to keep pushing him.
"Alright," I said, cracking my knuckles. "We've established you can not blow up the room when you try. Now let's see if you can do it under pressure."
Mara made a noise of protest. "I don't like where this is going."
I ignored her. "Ronan, I'm going to attack you."
Ronan blinked. "Why?"
Mara groaned. "I really don't like where this is going."
I took a step back, flexing my fingers. "Because you need to learn how to use your magic instinctively, not just when you're standing in one spot like a damn scarecrow."