Back at the camp, a heavy silence loomed like a suffocating fog. The once lively, cheerful atmosphere had been reduced to cold stillness. The distant crackling of the fire, the soft rustling of leaves—it all felt hauntingly loud in contrast to the silence between the people.
The cause of it all?
Cassius.
He had broken Verena's wrist with mechanical calm, and Miss Celia's outburst afterwards had only worsened the suffocating weight over the group. It didn't feel real at first. But now, hours later, the truth had set in.
It had happened.
Right now, Mia sat beside Verena on a crude bench made from stone and earth—likely conjured by one of the earth element users earlier in the day. Her arms were folded, and her brows were tightly furrowed. Her lips were slightly pursed, pressed in thought, in confusion...
