The last echoes of footfalls faded against the high vaulted walls. Mana, still faintly charged in the air, hung like the afterimage of lightning.
Cassian gave Lindarion a sympathetic grimace as he slunk out, whispering something about "survivor's guilt."
Then it was just him and Nyx.
She hadn't moved. Her arms were folded behind her back, spine rigid, posture so perfectly composed it seemed sculpted from tension.
She didn't look at him when she spoke.
"Where did you learn it to that degree?"
'Oh so I was too good..'
Lindarion said nothing at first. His expression remained neutral, but not blank. Watching. Measuring Nyx.
Nyx turned her head slightly, one strand of hair falling across her cheek.
"I asked you a question."
"I practiced, Professor." he said.
A twitch at the corner of her mouth. It wasn't amusement.
