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"Manifestation?" Rhyven asks.

"Not confirmed."

"Inheritance response?"

"Emotional projection."

"Controlled?"

Her fingers twist. "No."

Rhyven nods. No judgment. "Deputy Serris will work with you twice a week." A third-year siren behind him records the instruction immediately.

Rhyven looks toward the next student. "Name."

The student straightens. "Orin Vall. Medusa."

"I can see that." Orin's mouth closes. Rhyven waits. "Magical sight. Structural fractures."

"Physical injuries?"

"Left shoulder."

"How old?"

"Two years."

Rhyven looks focused. "Still painful?"

"Sometimes."

Rhyven turns toward his other deputy. "No overhead weapons until the healer clears it."

Orin looks surprised. "I can manage."

"I didn't ask." The words are blunt. Not cruel.

Rhyven moves on. He does this with every student. Name. Inheritance. Manifestation. Injury. Fear. Strength. No unnecessary conversation. No encouragement he does not mean. He remembers each answer without looking at the deputy's notes. The human boy is called Elias Weaver. No inheritance. Extensive tactical education. Terrified of heights, though he admits it only after Rhyven asks twice. The dragon-blooded girl is Tessa Pyre. Unbonded. Heat resistant. An old injury in her right hand from a childhood fire. The wolf, Anika Roan, has incomplete transformation and becomes disoriented afterward. Rhyven assigns her a second-year mentor before she finishes explaining.

No hesitation. No performance. He does not make students feel small for what they lack. He simply accounts for it. I understand suddenly why people follow him. Not because he inspires them. Because he notices the places where they might fall. Selena answers with her usual precision.

"Vampire. Hemostatic control. No current injuries."

Rhyven studies her. "Sleep?"

She blinks. "What about it?"

"How much?"

"Enough."

"That wasn't a number."

"Six hours." She replies.

"Minimum?"

"Four."