Desperate Training

The steady pulse of mana flared against his skin as he moved, each motion sharper, more precise. 

The training ground had mostly emptied by now, the only sounds left were the occasional clash of weapons or the hum of distant affinity work.

Merlin barely registered any of it.

Again.

Strike.

Pivot.

Reinforce.

Nathan, still sprawled lazily on one of the benches, exhaled dramatically. "Alright, I'll give you ten more minutes before you either pass out or burst into flames. Maybe both."

Merlin ignored him.

Then—

"Oh, great. He's in that mode again."

Merlin stilled mid-motion. He turned to see Adrian striding toward them, golden hair slightly tousled, his usual grin in place.

Nathan perked up immediately. "Finally, someone else to suffer with me."

Adrian snorted, stopping beside him. "You actually sat through this?"