MUNDANELY NORMAL

Since the day Marshall and Muyang arrived at Miss Evelyn's garden, it had been storming without a break. The clouds were spilling buckets, the harsh raindrops foaming as they battered the ground.

The rain persisted for three days. Marshall found himself unable to slip away unnoticed—each time he approached the main door, Miss Evelyn intercepted him, assigning him errands to keep him occupied.

He had done everything from patching up leaky windows, weaving baskets and cooking meals. It was almost as if Miss Evelyn could tell he was trying to leave and was keeping him busy with indoor tasks on purpose.

As soon as the rainy weather ceased, Muyang darted out of the house, heading to town to meet his friends. Meanwhile, Miss Evelyn took Marshall to the garden, watching him dig up potatoes like a hawk. No guards had showed up to the garden, and Miss Evelyn rarely received visitors, so Marshall felt himself gradually relaxing.

Whenever he stared at the brick house, he felt as if nothing had changed. A variety of colors had scattered across the ground. Naked branches swayed lightly in the wind after dropping the leaves they had held up all summer. The deep quiet and the crunching of leaves under their feet brought a sense of peace.

During another late afternoon, Marshall was feeding the chickens with Miss Evelyn, both watching the birds peck on the grains with eager nods. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye occasionally, debating whether to say something.

Eventually, she asked, "Marshie, what's on your mind?"

Marshall didn't respond immediately. He chewed on his inner cheek for a while, mulling over his thoughts, then responded with another question, "What do you think makes someone strong?"

The elderly lady let out a surprised laugh. "My, that's not an easy question to answer."

She let out a contemplative sigh, observing the light brown feathers rustling amidst satisfied cooing as the birds moved about. "I think it's resilience... Believing that no matter what life throws at you, you'll be able to handle it."

Miss Evelyn mused, "Take any hardship as an example—one person might come out stronger, while another might crumble."

Marshall's gaze trailed over the lush grass that had come to life after the heavy rain. Which one of those was he? He reached into his pocket, fiddling with the labradorite stone he had received from Gi Gaia.

The disciple wondered, "Then how come there's such a difference? Why are some resilient, but some not so much?"

"Hmm," Miss Evelyn brushed her hair with a distant look in her eyes. "It all depends on how much they trust themselves.

"Without missing a beat, he asked, "And how does one trust themselves?"

She turned to him with a somewhat amused expression at the flood of questions. "By being honest. It's the simple things, Marshie. If you're happy, laugh. If you're sad, cry. Trust comes from honesty. But you can't trust yourself if you ignore what troubles you."

Marshall almost choked on air at how spot on it was. He tried to defend himself, "Well, I'm not ignoring—"

"You are," Miss Evelyn wasn't going to beat around the bush.

The disciple let out a losing sigh, sprinkling the last grains from the bucket. She was right, there was no arguing with that.

"I'm not saying this to scold you. I just wish you would open up more," Miss Evelyn lightly touched his shoulder, and Marshall abruptly stepped away.

"Ah..." Realizing he had overreacted, he let out an awkward chuckle, "Didn't the time fly by? It's about time to start preparing dinner. I'll go get started!"

➳ ➳ ➳

The aroma of the simmering stew filled the humble kitchen. Marshall hummed a simple tune, reminiscing of the times he used to assist with vegetable preparation in Nai Eatery.

His brow furrowed in concentration, attention divided between chopping the vegetables, stirring the pot and listening to Muyang's stories.

The little fennec fox was perched on a worn stool, his feet swinging back and forth as he animatedly recounted the tales of his day. His youthful voice filled the room, chattering away without pause.

All Muyang needed to keep going was an occasional nod or "mhm" from Marshall, and the stream of stories flowed until dinner was ready.

However, as they settled down to eat, Muyang's talking abruptly ceased. His spoon clacked against the bowl in a hurried rhythm as he practically inhaled the soup.

Marshall lifted an eyebrow, wondering what was going on as Muyang sprang up from his seat.

"I'll be out for a moment!" he announced, darting towards the door.

"Where are you off to at this hour?"

"To meet my friends!" Muyang flashed a grin while slipping on his boots. "We're going stargazing!"

"Be back before midnight," Marshall remarked, pointing at the kid with his spoon.

"Bye!" Muyang dashed through the door, his footsteps quickly fading into the distance.

The disciple had expected his curfew to be disregarded, but the boy returned a little after midnight. Muyang complained about how his friends' parents wouldn't let them stay out at night, so they had been forced to go home, promising to meet again at the crack of dawn to watch the sunrise.

Once they went to sleep, the energetic fennec fox stirred in his bed all night, eagerly awaiting the sunrise to dash off again.

Marshall had the honor of witnessing the spectacle unfold next to him—the kid kicked his blankets, whined that it was too hot, then too cold, then that the pillow didn't sit right. Finally, he mumbled himself to sleep by counting the struggles of childhood.

Meanwhile, the disciple was mutely snickering at the silly fussing in the dark, pretending to be asleep.

If things could have stayed like this, it would have been nice. It felt so mundanely normal. Although, Marshall was surprised that Muyang didn't ask anything about his demonic energy. Perhaps he hadn't caught onto it fully.