FUZZY MORNING
Just as the sky began to brighten, beckoning the sun to visit for another day, the disciple finally managed to drift asleep. But as if pushed by back luck, barely a minute later, he turned in his sleep and slipped off the bench.
The fall to the cold floor jolted Marshall wide awake, ruining any desire to try to sleep again.
"Ugh," he sat up with a groan, rubbing the back of his head.
When he glanced at the window, no sunlight was present. It was still dawn. Marshall got to his feet and stretched, feeling the stiffness in his limbs from lying on the hard bench.
Strange, scratchy knocks on the main door broke the deafening quiet of the night.
He looked at Sun Hayden and Sentinel Lichen, who were deep asleep. Marshall furrowed his brow, crossing the main hall in a few wide strides. Had Wyn returned? But the snow deity wouldn't have scratched the door to get in. The image of it was amusing, but he pushed it away to focus.
The disciple soundlessly pushed the door open, just enough to slip out into the crisp morning air.
No one was in sight. The surroundings were lit up by a soft, hazy light, casting odd shadows over the stone walls.
Marshall squinted, walking towards the gate. Had he misheard? Just as he was about to check outside, another strange sound reached his ears.
A rustle in the grass behind the corner of the castle, as if someone was sneaking around. He exhaled, bracing himself for a fight.
In a swift move, Marshall rounded the corner to catch the intruder off guard. But what he saw was far from a threatening figure.
A familiar, fuzzy friend hopped between the windows, trying to peek in. Marshall's threatening expression dropped as he chuckled at the sight.
"Well, hello there," he greeted, moving closer. "Do you come bringing a message?"
The owl turned its head to the disciple, immediately shifting towards him, its beak clicking softly in response. He leaned closer to examine its talons and feathers, searching for any signs of a note.
There was nothing, but the white feathers were darker than usual. It almost seemed as if the bird was covered in dust.
"Where did you come from..." Marshall murmured, raising an eyebrow. "Is Wyn alright?"
The owl bobbed its head in affirmation. He couldn't help but marvel at the intelligence of the little creature yet again. So smart and so adorable.
A gust of wind ruffled the snowy feathers wildly, and Marshall shifted slightly to block the wind as he observed the dusty bird.
"Why are you so dirty?" he questioned softly.
The disciple ran his fingers over the owl's wings, carefully brushing the darkness off its feathers. Seeing the owl did not mind, the tension in his shoulders eased slightly. He gave the soft head a few pats as well, smiling to himself.
Marshall had the urge to pick it up for a hug, but didn't act upon it in case it would stress the bird. Then, another idea crossed the disciple's mind.
"Hold on, I can send a message back, right? Stay here! Just a moment!" Marshall told the owl, running back to the castle.
The bird followed him to the door, tilting the white head inquisitively.
Marshall passed the sleeping forms of Sun Hayden and Sentinel Lichen in a breeze, stopping by a desk in the corner of the hall. Half of the notes were scattered haphazardly on one side, and half were neatly stacked on the other.
Marshall lit a candle and pushed his pile to Wyn's side of the desk to free up space. He picked out a small piece of paper and hunched over it with a pencil. What question could he ask? He squinted in thought. But Wyn couldn't write back, was it any use asking questions?
Then... What would Wyn want to hear in such situation? When Marshall was stuck in the cavern, any nice word would have lifted his spirits, but there was something specific he had wanted to hear. Perhaps it would work on the snow deity too.
He scribbled the message onto the paper, rolled it up and ran to tie it onto the owl, grabbing a thin string he found on the way.
However, the owl refused to let him tie the little note, pecking at his fingers stubbornly.
"Come on, don't fight me. I know you're not a messenger bird, but can you help me out this once?" he pleaded, reaching for its foot again. Another peck followed, and he was forced to let go.
Marshall stared at the bird, perplexed. "Would you prefer to carry it back in your beak or something?"
The owl blinked up at him expectantly, tapping its talon on the ground. The disciple tilted his head in question, but held the rolled piece of paper out to see if the owl would take it.
To his surprise, the owl chomped down the middle of the note, holding it in its beak with a satisfied hoot.
"You sure are particular about the way you do things," Marshall said with an amused grin, patting the bird one last time.
Having received the task, the spiritual owl spread its wings and set off.
Marshall watched it glide through the morning sky without any sound. A lingering sense of warmth stayed behind, but he couldn't afford to bask in it for too long.
Taking a deep breath, he re-entered the main hall, returning to the desk. The encounter with the owl had been nice, but the frustration soon returned as he recalled the issue with demonic energy control. He laid out a clean page, gripping the pencil.
The disciple was dead set on finding a flawless way to assert control over demons. All he needed was to gain an advantage in power that would put him on common grounds with the Stygian Overlord.
Should there be any future confrontations, Marshall was going to make sure he would be on the winning side.
He started by jotting down everything he knew about demonic energy – its dominance over spiritual energy, the connection between strong emotions and demons, the different ways of giving commands.
Then, he moved onto throwing out as many ideas over the paper as he could. By the end of it, at least one idea should have been useful.
As the scritches of the pencil continued, a faint light crept through the windows. The sun must have shown up by the horizon. A soft rustling came from behind him, and he turned to see Sun Hayden stirring, blinking sleepily at him.
"What are you doing up so early?" his friend asked, rubbing his eyes.
Marshall waved for Sun Hayden to go back to sleep, "I'm just thinking."
"Did you sleep at all or were you up all night?" Sun Hayden asked in a hoarse voice, his eyes barely open.
Marshall chuckled, shaking his head, "Not all night."
"Yeah, right," Sun Hayden sat up, yawning in a scoffing manner, clearly not convinced. "You look like you have been punched."
Marshall rolled his eyes, turning back to his notes. "So do you," he teased back, "your eyes are still puffy from crying."
Sun Hayden prickled up, annoyed. "Hey! That's—" he stopped abruptly, noticing something. His hand shot out, grabbing a dusty plate.
After brushing the dust off the surface, it turned out to be a mirror. He examined his face closely, turning it from side to side. With a pout, he put the mirror down.
"You're just messing with me! I'm not puffy," he dramatically flipped his pillow around.
Meanwhile, Sentinel Lichen turned to the other side with an irritated exhale at the early disturbance. She shifting in a passive-aggressive manner to get more comfortable.
Sun Hayden calmed down, lying down with an indignant huff at the teasing. Not minding it, Marshall silently went back to writing. He scribbled spiritual energy across from demonic energy, staring between the two.
Spiritual energy was a passive force, capable of both destruction and healing under the right circumstances. Mixing it with demonic energy could potentially create a balanced force.
Currently, he needed a way to keep demons calm, but his demonic energy alone was too weak. If he managed to combine the two energies, it could create a balanced power.
The only obstacle remained the scorching pain upon employing spiritual energy. In amounts small enough to read memories, it was fine. But using it for attacks was incredibly difficult.
Although, looking at the big picture, if combining energies proved effective, he could push past the burn. If he didn't want to run again, he would have to bear the pain.