A CHILDISH DETERMINATION

The seven-year-old Marshall circled around the Chastity Tower, wide eyes darting around. He had secretly followed Master Gi Shan all this way from Avidity Premises to the city.

"Woah..."

Young Marshall stared at the tall building, the golden spire piercing into the clouds, hidden from sight. It was huge and shiny. 

The streets had emptied because of a meeting happening inside the Chastity Tower. No one was around to chase him away.

He ran up to the tall doors and tried to push one open. They were incredibly heavy, but he managed to slip in. Even the sound of the door sliding shut was louder than expected.

Marshall quietly ran across the main hall, the steps of an energetic child echoing as he searched for the stairs leading down.

He had heard there was a prison in the basement of the Chastity Tower, where they held bad people. Others said his mom was a bad person, so she must have been down there. 

Most of his friends' mothers had taken them to the mountains, so he needed to get his mother free, at least for one day, so she could take him too. 

Once he found the staircase, Marshall scurried down. It was dark, a few torches mounted on the stone walls, high above his head. The deeper he went, the more earthy and humid was the smell. 

When he reached the bottom, he flinched in surprise. 

"Oh—! Hello!" he blurted out.

Two guards stood at the entrance, their expressions hard and unyielding. Young Marshall faltered, then put a brave face and stepped forward.

"I came to see my mother," he declared.

One of the guards, a tall man with a scar running down his neck, looked at him with a look of pity and irritation. "It's not a place for children, kid. Go home."

"How did he get in here?" the shorter guard asked the other. "Did he get lost?"

The guard with the scar shrugged, then turned to Marshall. "Kid, this is a temporary prison. Your mom's not here."

What did 'temporary' mean? Marshall had never heard that word before. Was it bad or good? 

His foot twisted over the dirty ground, the tiny pebbles making a cracking noise as he thought about it. 

The scar on one of the guards' neck was distracting. It looked painful and scary, yet he couldn't stop staring. It was like one of those ugly things he couldn't tear his eyes away from once he looked.

Despite his scar, the guard stood straight, as if it didn't hurt at all. Young Marshall braced himself, straightening to stand as tall as the guard. 

Seeing the child trying to stare him down, the guard chuckled and crouched by him. 

"Listen, go back upstairs and look for your mom there, yeah?"

"Go up or we'll lock you up," the shorter guard quipped.

Marshall looked at the rusty door and shook his head defiantly.

The guards exchanged glances and the short one groaned. "What an annoying kid," he muttered.

"Come on, now, go up," the guard with the scar urged him like a puppy. "Up, hm?"

"He won't go," said the shorter guard. "Seems we'll have to put him in a cell until he changes his mind."

That got a complaint out of Marshall, "If lock me up, I won't stop talking! I can keep going all day, you'll go insane!"

The guards chuckled, entertained by the child's determination. 

"You think we can't silence you?" the shorter one was about to grab Marshall but the guard with the scar held out his arm, gesturing for him to pause.

"Stop scaring him. He's just a kid," he said, surprisingly patient. Then he took Marshall's hand and led him up the stairs. "I'll take him back." 

Marshall turned his head, staring at the rusty door over his shoulder. The shorter guard smirked, holding up his fist with a fake threat. The child stuck his tongue out in response, proceeding to grin and make faces.

"Watch your step," the guard with the scar warned, "the stairs are steep."

"Uh-huh," Marshall nodded, instead staring at the large, calloused hand holding his. It was warm too.

"Do you have a sword?" 

"I do. A sturdy one," the guard told him with a brotherly smile.

"What's sturdy?"

"It doesn't break."

"Is it a colorful sword?"

The guard chuckled heartily. "No colors. It's not a spiritual weapon."

Marshall thought for a moment, then blurted out, "That's boring then."

"Boring?" The guard glanced at him, clicking his tongue. "There's security in the boring. It's simple and dependable."

"Security...?"

"It means safe."

"Ah."

The moment they emerged from the basement, Master Gi Shan happened to be descending the marbled stairs.

Marshall's mouth opened in realization, and he tried to make a run for it, but the guard's hand held him in place. 

Master Gi Shan noticed the child and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

"Uh, I wasn't supposed to be here," Marshall subtly informed the guard.

"Yeah, I figured," the guard whispered back with an amused smile.

Marshall let out a nervous chuckle, his eyes turning back to his master, hoping he wasn't going to be too mad.

"Shei Marshall," Master Gi Shan's voice was firm as he gestured for him to follow.

The child waved goodbye to the guard before dragging his feet to the main door with a sigh. 

"Listen to what I tell you, and stop wandering off on your own," Master Gi Shan chided as he held the door open.

The streets were slowly filling as the officials and deities were leaving the Chastity Tower after the meeting. 

On their way back to the Avidity Premises, the seven-year-old Marshall almost talked Master Gi Shan to an early grave.

"Others have moms who take them places. I also want to go places. My friends go to towns and travel around Sky Oriels on the weekends. I want to travel too. And I really want to go to the mountains... Then I want..."

"You want too much," Master Gi Shan said. "When I was your age, I never traveled. My mother worked on the weekends, and we were too poor to go places. Be grateful for what you have."

He continued, "There's a roof above your head and a warm bed to sleep in. You never have to starve, and your clothes have no holes. You have everything you need."

They walked through the marble gates of Avidity Premises in uncomfortable silence. But instead of going to the dorm, Marshall followed Master Gi Shan into the study halls.

The child trailed around his master's desk for a while, watching as he graded the older disciples' assignments. 

Eventually, Marshall couldn't hold it in anymore. He hung onto Master Gi Shan's green robe with pleading eyes. 

"Master, can I go to the mountains this weekend? My friends said there was a secret cave with crystals, where a fairy lives. I want to go hiking to see if it's true!"

"Nonsense. Fairies do not exist," Master Gi Shan replied, licking his thumb to flip a page. 

"It's fine if they don't, but I still want to see the crystals! Can I please go?"

"No, you cannot."

"But why? What if I go with friends? We'll be careful!"

"Shei Marshall, I said no," he shook Marshall off with a deep furrow in his brow.

Marshall let out a disappointed sigh, but didn't give up. He grabbed Master Gi Shan's sleeve again, this time swinging it gently back and forth.

"Please, Master. I'll be really, really careful! I promise!"

Master Gi Shan, still focused on his work, sighed deeply but didn't relent. "Enough. My answer is final. You will not be going."

"Why not?" the child whined.

There was no elaboration.

"...Why not? Why?" Marshall pouted, staring at his master's side profile for a long time, but received no reaction.

At the very least, he wanted to know the reason why he couldn't go. It was fine if Master Gi Shan didn't want to take Marshall to the mountains, but then why couldn't he let him go alone?

"Master..." he tugged a little harder to draw his master's attention.

Master Gi Shan was dipping the pen into the ink, and the tug caused the ink bottle to knock over.

The dark liquid spilled across the desk, soaking into the papers and creating a spreading stain. Master Gi Shan's eyes widened in shock and anger as he quickly grabbed a cloth to clean up the mess.

"Look what you have done!" he snapped, his voice sharp. "I told you no, but you just have to get your way, no matter the cost!"

The corner of Master Gi Shan's green robe slipped from the little fingers as Marshall gave up.

"I didn't mean to spill the ink," he muttered. "I just don't understand why I can't go..."

Master Gi Shan was still busy with drying the pages of ink, not paying attention to what he was saying.

After faltering for a while, young Marshall sighed and left without his answer.