Sunlight washed softly over the Arkwright yard as Cain finished his last round of footwork. His breathing was controlled, his steps steady—two years of training had shaped his movements into something quiet and precise, something that didn't belong to a normal seven-year-old.
Seraphina watched from the doorway.
"That's enough for the morning," she said gently. "Your father should be home soon."
Cain nodded, rolled his shoulders once, and stepped aside to cool down.
The gate creaked open a moment later.
Leon entered with a stiff calmness Cain had seen few times before. Dust clung to his boots, and his cloak carried the scent of the forest.
Seraphina straightened. "You're early."
Leon hung his spear by the wall. "Found tracks," he said simply. "Fresh ones. Eastern ridge."
Her expression tightened. "How many?"
"Three. Small. Goblins."
Cain didn't interrupt. He watched Leon's posture—the slightly narrowed eyes, the tightened jaw. Not fear, but readiness. A man responsible for a village, not just a family.
"We'll form a patrol before dusk," Leon continued. "Tell people to keep their animals close."
Seraphina exhaled slowly. "I'll prepare the salves."
Leon turned to Cain. "If you go into town, stay on the main road. No wandering near the forest. Understood?"
"Yes," Cain replied.
Leon accepted the answer without doubt. He left again to alert the other guards.
Seraphina handed Cain a small cloth bundle. "Take this to the apothecary. Come straight back after."
Cain tucked it under his arm and walked toward town.
---
Greyridge was busier than usual—busier because people were trying to look normal. Merchants lifted heavy crates with more noise than needed, children played with forced energy, and almost everyone kept glancing toward the distant tree line.
"Three sets of tracks?" a man whispered.
"That's what I heard. Goblins this close again…"
"Hope the patrol handles it quickly."
Cain continued through the square, noting voices, posture, tension. Fear wasn't chaos here—it was habit. Villagers reacted the way people who had seen trouble before reacted. That mattered more than the words themselves.
He approached the apothecary stall just as someone caught his attention.
A girl—small, blonde, with healer robes too big for her—was sorting herbs into neat piles. Her cheeks were soft, her eyes focused, and her hands moved with careful precision. She wasn't clumsy. She was simply gentle.
A healer apprentice.
two older boys stopped apprentice and started talking with her.
"What's with all the leaves?" one jeered. "Can't you use magic like normal kids?"
Aera clutched a small pouch to her chest. "I—I'm helping. Please don't touch—"
But the boys grabbed at the pouch anyway. Aera tried to pull her herb pouch back, her small hands trembling.
"Give it back," she said, voice low but firm.
The taller boy smirked. "Oh? The little healer thinks she can talk back?"
His friend laughed. "Hit her once. She'll shut up."
Aera's courage wavered, but she still refused to step away.
Her fingers clenched.
That annoyed the taller boy.
He lifted his hand.
Not a playful shove—
A real swing.
Hard enough to send her falling.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
The strike never landed.
A firm hand caught the boy's wrist mid-air—clean, precise, unhurried.
Cain stood beside him, posture relaxed, eyes flat and unreadable.
He didn't look angry.
He didn't raise his voice.
He simply held the boy's wrist like someone stopping a cup from falling off a table.
"Does this feel fun to you?" Cain asked quietly.
The boy tried to pull away.
He couldn't move an inch.
Cain's grip tightened slightly—just enough for the boy's breath to hitch.
A controlled warning, nothing more.
Aera opened her eyes, stunned to see the swing frozen in place.
Cain let go with a small flick.
The boy stumbled back, face pale.
Cain stepped in front of the girl, not even turning around as he said:
"Try it again."
He didn't raise his tone.
He didn't glare.
He didn't posture.
He simply stated it like a fact—an invitation,the boy was terrified to accept.
The friend grabbed his sleeve.
"L-Let's just go."
Both boys bolted, throwing the pouch on the ground
Cain crouched, picked up the herb pouch from the ground, brushed the dirt off, and held it out.
Thebgirl took it with shaking hands.
"…Thank you…"
Cain nodded once.
Then he turned away as if nothing had happened.
After a brief pause, the girl swallowed and whispered, "I'm Aera."
"Cain," he replied.
Something soft passed through her expression—relief, maybe gratitude, maybe something she didn't know how to name yet. Cain simply acknowledged her and stepped back.
That was when the shout came.
"Everyone inside! Goblin tracks confirmed near the eastern ridge! Guards forming a line!"
The stall owners reacted instantly.
Shutters slammed.
Children were pulled toward homes.
Merchants packed crates with frantic speed.
Aera flinched, wrapping her arms around the herb pouch.
Cain looked toward the forest. No movement. No noise. But he understood the meaning of the alarm. Goblins rarely attacked in daylight, but preparing early was the difference between surviving and suffering.
Seraphina reached the stall quickly, relief washing over her face when she saw Cain unharmed. "Come home. Both of you, now."
She ushered Aera inside the apothecary, then walked with Cain back toward the Arkwright house.
Leon was already there, fitting leather armguards and checking the edges of his spear. Two guards stood beside him, gearing up.
"We sweep the ridge before sunset," Leon said to them. "Three goblins at most. Should be quick."
Seraphina pressed a hand to her heart. "Be safe."
Leon nodded and looked at Cain—not with fear, not with expectation, but the silent understanding of a father who wanted his son protected.
"Stay inside tonight," he said. "Listen to your mother."
"I will," Cain answered.
Leon gave a brief, grateful nod and left with the patrol.
Cain watched them disappear toward the ridge. He wasn't anxious. He wasn't excited. He simply understood what these events meant.
Three goblins today meant one thing.
Something had changed in the forest.
The world outside the fence wasn't still anymore.
Cain closed the gate behind him and stepped inside the yard. Training and rest would continue as normal—but the knowledge stayed with him.
If trouble grew, he would grow faster.
If danger approached, he would not meet it unprepared.
Three goblins were small.
But they were the beginning of something larger.
He intended to be ready for whatever followed.
---