'A greeting shouldn't hurt.'
Lucavion raised his right hand.
The masked figure beside the threshold relaxed.
Only slightly.
The movement was so restrained that most students would have missed it entirely, but Lucavion stood close enough to see the minute release around the shoulders, the faint easing of the fingers beneath pale cloth. The attendant had taken his lifted hand for compliance. At last, perhaps, the troublesome student before them had decided that following one instruction would cause neither spiritual collapse nor permanent injury to his dignity.
A reasonable assumption.
Lucavion turned his palm upward.
Black fire bloomed above it.
—Fsssh!
The sound was almost disappointingly soft.
