HEAVINESS IN THE AIR

As the sky darkened, everyone gathered back in the main hall.

The disciples had turned the storage chamber upside down and gone through the ruins outside the castle. Lou Yumei was nowhere to be seen.

Marshall had decided to keep Wyn's statement to himself for now, not sure what to make of the accusation. 

In the middle of the hectic search, the disciples under Wyn's command were sent out to hunt. It was too late to make the trip back to the Chastity Tower before nightfall, so they were forced to stay the night in the castle.

The sun was setting fast, but Calla Kai's pace was quicker. He walked back and forth, mumbling something in worry. It looked like it wasn't going to take long until he chewed all of his fingers off.

However, Calla Kai was not the gray sheep of the herd. Feelings of guilt and stress wafted around the entire Tainia unit like a dark, depressive cloud, making the main hall suffocating.

Marshall took his bow and quietly slipped out of the castle without telling anyone. He went to join the hunt for dinner, or more like to take a breather. 

"Well, that could've gone better," he mumbled, shrugging the unease off as he walked over the hay-like grass. 

The parched blades cracked under his steps with hushed sighs. When was the last time it had rained? Come to think of it, that year the summer had been awfully dry.

➳ ➳ ➳

Marshall moved silently through the crackling underbrush, his senses on high alert in case he would encounter any demons. 

The forest was eerily quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves. The lack of rain had left the ground dry and brittle, making stealth difficult, but he compensated with his keen awareness and the soft tread of his well-worn boots.

He paused, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes for a moment. Focusing his mind, he summoned his spiritual energy, feeling it flow through his body and into his bow.

The bowstring glowed faintly with a golden light, ready to release a spiritual arrow.

Marshall's ears caught the faint sound of movement. He crouched low, moving towards the sound with practiced ease.

A small clearing opened up ahead, and he spotted a group of pheasants pecking at the ground, oblivious to his presence.

As he prepared to nock an arrow, something flickered at the edge of his vision. He turned his head sharply, heart pounding, and caught a glimpse of a shadow moving between the trees.

For a moment, he wondered if it was a wandering demon or another disciple hunting in the forest. But the shadow vanished as quickly as it appeared, and he dismissed it as his mind playing tricks on him.

Nocking a spiritual arrow, Marshall drew the bowstring back slowly, the golden energy intensifying. 

With a soft twang, he released the arrow, watching as it glinted between the trees, striking one of the pheasants cleanly. The bird fell without a sound, and the others scattered in a flurry of feathers.

Marshall repeated the process, moving swiftly. The spiritual arrows made no noise, and their golden glow blended with the fading sunlight, making them nearly invisible. He managed to take down three more pheasants before deciding he had enough.

He secured his bow back on his back with a sigh and approached the fallen birds. He gathered the pheasants, their feathers soft and warm in his hands, and made his way back to the stronghold.

As he walked, he occasionally glanced back to check. It felt as if someone was following him, but he pushed it aside, focusing on the path ahead.

➳ ➳ ➳

The hunting sub-unit had returned well before Marshall, but when they saw him show up with four more pheasants, the disciples sighed in relief.

"Oh, thank heavens! No one will starve tonight," a boy from Wyn's unit exclaimed, taking the birds off Marshall's hands.

"Don't thank the heavens. Thank me," Marshall quipped.

"Of course, the credit is all yours," the boy bowed his head in a polite gesture, going to pluck the birds.

After they had set up two campfires on the side of the castle, the serious atmosphere eased. Casual chatter filled the air, and everyone, except Calla Kai and Wyn, seemed to momentarily forget about the disastrous mission.

Marshall was grilling the meat by himself, basking in the warmth of the flickering flames. From the corner of his eye, he spotted a figure in navy blue robes walking nearby.

"Hey, Lai Ry—" he raised a hand to call Lai Rylan over, but his friend passed him without noticing and stopped Calla Akeya by the second campfire.

The two shifted away from the others to discuss something privately. 

"Eh?" Marshall squinted at them, murmuring to himself, "Since when have those gotten close?"

Flipping the meat, he stole a glance of the side door that was left open. From his angle, he could see Wyn sitting by one of the columns in the main hall, meditating to replenish his spiritual energy. 

Marshall's mind spun on the Ribbon Orchid seal on the gate, the unlocked door of the storage chamber, and Wyn's implication that the mission was sabotaged.

The disciple impatiently finished grilling two portions of meat, and headed inside with two plates in his hands.

"Are you waiting for a private catering service?" he joked, pushing the door wider with his foot.

Wyn looked up, straightening from his slightly slumped position. The disciple took a seat on the ground by the same column.

"Here. My service provides no side dishes, unfortunately," Marshall joked, pushing one of the plates into the snow deity's hands. 

Wyn accepted the plate with a nod, "Thank you."

The disciple grinned, crossing his legs to settle in a more comfortable position. "Also, it's unseasoned, so don't expect much."

"I assumed so," Wyn said, taking a careful bite.

The silence stretched between them, filled with the distant murmur of the other disciples and the crackling of the fire.

Marshall watched Wyn for a moment, then began eating his own portion. The taste was simple and bland, but his hunger made it satisfying.

Judging by the snow deity's fatigued expression, it wasn't the right time to push for information related to the mission, so Marshall settled on making casual conversation.

"Hey, if you're a deity, do people worship you?" 

Wyn glanced at him with a mystified look. "I do have my own shrine, yes."

Marshall leaned forward in mild surprise, "Seriously? How old are you?"

"Nineteen," came a dry response.

"Nineteen?! We're the same age?" Marshall exclaimed, throwing an arm around the snow deity. "Eh-hey, doesn't that mean we're friends now?"

A resigned sigh followed and Wyn calmly removed the arm from his shoulder. "Friendship is not about age. It is about respect and understanding."

"So formal," Marshall nudged him. "It's no wonder you became a deity at this age. But still, how did you do it?"

"As you can imagine, I had plenty of time during seclusion. I simply used the resources I had to improve my abilities. Once I completed my sentence, I proved myself to the Chastity Tower, which earned me the title of the Keeper of Snow," Wyn explained.

"Hmm," Marshall swayed back and forth casually. "Then what responsibilities do you have?"

"So many questions," Wyn remarked, but answered regardless. "My main responsibility is sustaining snow in Sky Oriels during winters."

The disciple chuckled. "Then if I went and and prayed at your shrine in winter, would it start to snow?"

Wyn leaned against the column with a nod. "If you pray for it to snow, it will. However, that is the reason my shrine seldom has any visitors. No one likes harsh winters."

"You can tell me where it is, I'll go visit," Marshall promised.

The snow deity let out a huff of laughter, "And do what? Wish for snowy days to sled down the hills? There are enough children asking for that."

"Pfft," Marshall suppressed laughter. "Ah, so kids ask you for snowy days. But what about the girls?"

"Girls?" Wyn sent him a slightly bewildered look.

Marshall smirked. "You know, do girls pray for a winter miracle to bring them true love?"

"I am the Keeper of Snow, not a wish fulfiller," Wyn retorted.

He didn't seem to catch on that Marshall was pulling his leg, which only encouraged the other to keep going.

"Oh, come on," the disciple poked him, grinning wider. "Surely, it can't hurt to make an exception for a cute girl who comes to your shrine, praying for some romance in her life?"

The snow deity shot Marshall an disgruntled look. "I already told you I cannot control the matters of love. My shrine is not a matchmaking center."

"But what if—"

"If you utter one more absurd thing, I will lose my patience."

"Wait, but if you're being honest, do you never get any pretty girls visiting your shrine and leaving offerings?"

"I do not."

"Then what if a pretty me went to pray for love? Do I get friendship benefits?"

"..."

"Haha! Fine, don't glare, I'll stop, I'll stop."