Cain stepped onto the training grounds, his boots crunching softly against the dirt. The sun was low, casting long shadows over the field where training dummies stood like silent sentinels. His eyes immediately landed on Maris, standing in the center with her spear gripped tightly in both hands. She was alone, her back rigid, her golden eyes locked forward as though she were waiting for an enemy to appear.
He frowned. She had texted him to come meet her, but this was not the usual Maris he had come to know. Normally, she was either fiery and smug or challengingly blunt, but now… she was silent.
"Maris," Cain greeted calmly, taking a few steps closer. "You asked me to come. What is it?"
She did not answer. Her body remained still, the only sound the faint whistle of the wind that brushed across the field. Cain tilted his head, studying her carefully. Something was wrong. He could feel the tension in the air like a coiled spring.
