Master Gi Shan appeared, his sword gleaming with green light.
A small group of armed men followed him, chasing after the smoky creature.
Marshall watched as they advanced toward the creature, swords poised for battle. Powerful swings aimed to slice through the dark mass.
However, blade after blade passed through the smoky form with little effect, the black smoke swirling and reconstituting itself instantly after each strike.
Master Gi Shan frowned as he saw the creature heading towards the study halls, and the lines in his face deepened as he noticed the seven-year-old Marshall lying half-conscious on the patio by the halls.
Realizing the immediate danger, Master Gi Shan yelled orders to his men and rushed to Marshall's side.
With swift, practiced movements, he created a dark green shield around them. The child looked up for help but received a severe glare, and shrunk smaller.
The shimmering, bubble-shaped shield rippled with increased spiritual energy, crackling dangerously. Still, the creature inched closer, whispering to Marshall.
"...ah... no... not yet... too young..."
Strangely, it sounded disappointed this time.
"...one more dozen of years... ah... must wait..."
The inky smoke writhed around the shield hopelessly.
A bead of sweat rolling down his sideburns, Master Gi Shan channeled spiritual energy into his blade.
"...child... prepare... when the time comes..."
Before the shadowy creature could complete its message, Master Gi Shan unleashed a glaring green spiritual light.
The intense burst pierced through the smoke, scattering it like ashes in the air.
A faint residue of dark mist was left, slowly dissipating into the night air. Master Gi Shan stood over Marshall, his breathing steadying as the immediate threat vanished.
The large green shield dissolved into shimmering motes of light, and Master Gi Shan knelt beside the child, who was shivering from the ordeal.
"Shei Marshall," Master Gi Shan's voice was harsh. "Are you injured?"
Marshall's gaze flickered upward, his eyes still wider than the world. "Master... it—" He tried to speak but his voice was like sandpaper, the remnants of the creature's influence still clinging to him.
Master Gi Shan shook his head, sheathing his sword with a sharp move. He gestured one of the men under his command to pick the child up.
"Carry him to the infirmary," he ordered.
The man who picked him up appeared more concerned as he carefully carried the child toward the infirmary.
"Master..." Marshall stared at Master Gi Shan over the man's shoulder, wondering why he wasn't coming along.
But Master Gi Shan watched them go, his gaze stern and detached. He turned his attention to the lingering traces of the dark mist.
The cleaner lady approached him, her voice tinged with unease. "Is the child going to be alright?"
"The immediate danger has been dealt with. The child will be taken to the infirmary for inspection," Master Gi Shan informed her. "Make sure to alert the rest of the staff to remain on high alert."
He gestured for the remaining men to secure the area and ensure that no other threats were present. Everyone scattered, following his orders, their movements precise and deliberate.
To young Marshall it seemed that even the strong men were afraid to make a mistake in front of Master Gi Shan.
➳ ➳ ➳
The first light of morning crept through the narrow window of the infirmary, casting long, silent shadows across the room.
Marshall lay in a narrow, uncomfortably firm bed, his breathing steady but shallow.
The physician, a man with a greying mustache and a receding hairline, had worked through the night, his brow furrowed in deep concern as he tended to the boy's condition.
As the morning progressed, Marshall awoke to an empty room, only cabinets of medical supplies keeping him company.
He heard muffled voices outside, and turned to face the door to listen in.
Master Gi Shan's voice cut through the quiet morning air, "What did the physician say?"
The door wasn't fully closed. As the wind traveled through the windows, it creaked open slightly, allowing Marshall to eavesdrop on the conversation.
The man who had carried Marshall to the infirmary was speaking in low, urgent tones to Master Gi Shan.
"The physician said the boy's been possessed," he reported. "There are abnormal amounts of demonic energy in his body."
Master Gi Shan's reaction was immediate, his tone almost reprimanding, "Any amount of demonic energy inside a body is abnormal. Does the physician know how to remove it?"
The man shook his head, his expression grim. "The physician was not optimistic. He is trying to cleanse the energy, but it is proving difficult..."
"...he said the demonic energy is deeply embedded, and he is concerned about potential long-term effects."
Master Gi Shan's features hardened as he absorbed the news. "How long until we know if the cleansing is successful?"
"He did not specify a time frame," the man replied reluctantly. "He is doing everything he can, but the situation is... uneasy."
"If he was doing everything he could, that child would be up and running already," Master Gi Shan muttered.
After an uncomfortable pause, he pinched the bridge of his nose, his frustration barely contained. "Nonetheless. Keep me informed of any developments. We need to ensure this situation does not escalate."
"Yes, sir," the man bowed his head.
With a final nod, Master Gi Shan turned and left the infirmary, his footsteps echoing down the hall.
As he opened the main door to exit the building, a sudden gust of wind surged through the corridor, slamming the door to Marshall's room shut with a bang.
Marshall jolted up to a sitting position, staring at the door. Then flinched again as the doorknob twisted.
The man who had spoken to Master Gi Shan entered. His tense expression eased into an awkward smile as soon as he saw the child was awake.
"Don't be afraid, it's just the drought," he assured.
Marshall nodded, observing the man in the daylight. His face was sunburnt, and his hands were covered in small scars.
"Are you a soldier?" Marshall asked, his voice still hoarse from the ordeal.
The man chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No, not a soldier. I'm just a guard. Nothing impressive."
Marshall titled his head in question. "But why are your clothes different?"
"Different?" the man scratched his chin, thinking. "What do you mean?"
"The guards at the prison were dressed in light colors. You're wearing dark green," the child elaborated.
An understanding chuckle followed. "That's because the prison guards guard justice. I guard land."
Marshall hummed knowingly, although he didn't fully grasp the meaning of it.
A silence swept through the room, but the child couldn't sit still, shifting under the blanket until it became a tangled mess around his legs.
"Guards are nice," Marshall murmured, trying to get the man to talk to him more.
The guard scoffed quietly, shaking his head, "Not all guards are nice. I'm not so nice either."
Marshall blinked, then sent him a disagreeing frown. He seemed nice enough. Still, he asked, "Why not?"
The guard's expression hardened for a moment before he forced a smile. He leaned against the door frame, his eyes distant.
"Why not?" he echoed, looking through the window with a strange sadness in his gaze. "I sometimes wonder about that too."
"Did you yell at someone?" Marshall probed.
"Yeah, something like that," he admitted, regret lowering his voice. "Sometimes the stress of the job gets to you, and you take it out on the wrong people."
Marshall nodded solemnly. "Did you say sorry?"
The guard's eyes softened as he watched the birch branches swaying behind the window. "I tried to. But sometimes sorry isn't enough."
Marshall didn't relent. "Did you try again? Or did you try to be funny to make your friend laugh?"
The guard's shook his head lightly, "It won't work."
"Did you try it?"
"No."
"Then how do you know it won't work?"
The guard looked taken aback for a moment, then chuckled. "You make a good point. Perhaps I'll give it a try."
Marshall grinned, pleased with his own insight. "Yeah. Keep trying until it works."