Marcus met up with Rein Ambridge at a pavilion just before class. To Rein, it was supposed to be a casual meeting between friends. The sun filtered through the wooden beams of the pavilion, casting long shadows across the stone floor.
Rein stepped into the pavilion, his fiery red hair catching the light, his expression warm. He froze when he saw Marcus, a haggard young man with unkempt blue hair and deep bags under his eyes.
"Marcus…" Rein's voice was cautious, concerned.
Marcus's jaw tightened, his face a mask of suspicion. His fingers gripped the sound stone in his pocket.
"Take a seat, Rein," he said tersely.
Rein hesitated but sat across from Marcus, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. His gaze softened, trying to assess his friend's strange demeanor.
Marcus exhaled sharply, his mind racing. He wanted to talk about old times, to cling to the hope that Rein was still the same. But as he opened his mouth to speak, his gaze flickered to the ground—and froze.
