He doesn't project his aura. He doesn't use magic. He just looks at the human students with cold, human eyes.
Look at me, Asher says, his voice quiet, carrying the deep, grounded resonance of the Mortar. You’re trying to push the energy down. Stop pushing. Feel the floor. Feel the stone. Ground the energy in the physical reality of the room.
The human students look at him, their eyes wide with terror. But they listen. They close their eyes. They take deep, shuddering breaths.
Asher places his small hand on the mahogany table. He doesn't push genesis energy into the students. He doesn't try to rewrite their biology. He just grounds them. He anchors them to the physical reality of the hall, to the messy, inefficient, entirely human reality of the moment.
The golden veins on their arms sl
