The Great Dichotomy left the world in shambles. The corpses of Scions and their mortal offspring alike peppered the landscape. Entire species died leaving no record of their existence. Returned to the soil as was the cycle of life, they seeded new species to inherit the creation of The Unbroken Circle. The surviving Scions divided the world in two: Summer to the south and Winter to the north. A truce was made and a pact sworn. The schism would never be repaired, but coexistence would be paramount. Never again would there be such destruction of life.

-The First Verse of Creation

"How did you do that?" Akiko asked in a whispered tone as they walked. Her eyes were fastened upon the broken sword on Jordan's hip.

He followed her gaze. "A bit of luck and having the right tool for the right job. Mostly it was because the duppy underestimated me." He scanned the surroundings. "I doubt the others will do the same, though, if they followed her, I think they would have intervened."

"Spirits can't be permanently hurt by mundane weapons," Haru said. "Is that broken thing enchanted?"

"I doubt there's enough blade left to it to hold an enchantment."

"Then how?"

He could see she wanted to examine Wyrm's Tooth, but he possessively placed his hand on its hilt. His mind tried to take him back to an old courtyard of broken statues, but he stubbornly kept his thoughts on the moment.

"Talking about it conjures ghosts I'd rather not disturb."

Akiko's eyes widened. "It's a ghost slayer? Wow!"

"No– I– nevermind."

They continued, searching in silence. Soon they found a cave-like alcove of gnarled root large enough to accommodate a tent and a fire but not so deep that something might have lived inside. The place smelled of overturned earth and the roots radiated a gentle warmth that kept the freeze at bay. Jordan strung a thick tarp across the opening to stifle the chill winds then sat outside on a stone to tend to his wound. He quickly learned there was more than one. He'd been slow and paid for it in blood. At least one of the gashes would need stitches, which meant he needed a fire.

He sighed, not looking forward to the needle and thread.

"I can help you with that," Haru said from the confines of their little shelter.

Wood smoke wafted out from behind the tarp, the pleasant scent breaking through the dulled senses of his cold nose. Jordan eyed her for a moment then sighed and nodded. Haru examined his wounds performing triage similar to how she searched the ganmar's roots. When she was done she shook her head and rummaged through her pack.

"You are surprisingly nimble and resilient for your age." She unrolled a bundle full of thread, needles, hooks, and other surgical equipment. "I was afraid your thin skin would make it dangerous to stitch you up, but your skin is robust in a way I didn't expect."

He noticed her tone and manner were very matter of fact. A very naturalist response. He should have expected nothing less.

"I've been lucky."

She seemed to accept this. She pulled out a stoppered bottle of an acrid substance and bathed her instruments in a diluted mixture of its greenish contents.

"I'll assume you've done this before?" he said jokingly.

"Even if I haven't, do you intend to refuse my assistance?"

It took him a moment to come up with a snappy response, but by then she'd already dabbed the edges of his gash with the same solution. Even his verbal ripostes were suffering from disuse.

"This is going to pinch."

"I'm–"

She didn't wait for his response, and it did pinch. As they sat in the shadow of the old Belgaul ganmar tree, a gentle downfall of snow flurries fell upon the dying swamp. Despite the chill her fingers were steady and her work clean. She'd even managed to find a few cuts he'd missed. He stared out over the swamp he'd called home for decades and realized it looked nothing like it had when he'd first stood at the base of Old Ganmar. His beard and locs hadn't been gray then. The duppy wouldn't have been able to touch him, not when he was in his prime. As dark clouds slowly moved overhead, a gust blew in, setting their thick hair to dancing.

"We should look for firewood while we still can. If a storm moves in, we might end up stuck in there with nothing to burn." He glanced back at the tarp, protecting their shelter. "You stay with Akiko, I'll gather."

"We can do our part without being coddled. Akiko and I will search too. The work will get done faster that way." In a huff, Haru rerolled her equipment.

Feeling the chauvinist, Jordan covered himself against the cold and set out to find branches and twigs before it was all covered by the coming snows. He had to venture further than expected from their shelter in order to find any success. By the time he returned with an armful of firewood, Akiko and Haru were returning with their own ample loads. The little girl smirked at him.

"Good job, sire."

He chuckled. "Same to you."

This earned him a wider grin from the child and a glare from the woman. Convinced that time away from civilization had ruined him, Jordan decided he would have to work on his people skills.

Inside the shelter, they stacked the firewood in the back corner. Haru had already erected her small tent. Jordan's tent consisted mainly of his tarp, so he'd be sleeping on the hard ground. He'd endured worse, though his shoulder still begrudged him for the beating it had received during his fight with the duppy. There was still day left, but the cloud cover cast Belgaul in an almost evening gloom. For the first time in a while, Jordan wished he had a book to read. Something to pass the time. Instead he settled for listening to Haru discuss basic forestlore with Akiko.

She was short with the child but not mean, leading him to believe that her gruff responses to him might not have been personal. They spoke of local animals and plants, ways to find running water, and how to find ones direction without a lodestone. The girl seemed of age to barely an initiate, but her responses hint of more advanced knowledge. Specifically where it came to the care of trees.

He listened until their voices became a droning buzz in the background of the blowing winds outside. Eventually, Jordan drifted off to a dreamless sleep...

And awakened to the sound of wailing babies. He bolted upright to find the girls were already awake. Haru broke down their tent while Akiko sat by the tarp, biting her nails. She looked ready to charge outside.

"No. Stay," he said sharply. His eyes darted towards Haru, who glared. "Apologies. Akiko, those are not children you hear out there."

"I've already told her."

"Haru says they're ambush ravens, but they don't sound like birds at all."

He stood up and tried to be more tactful as he stretched stiff muscles.

"Ambush ravens mimic crying infants to lure their prey out into the open. If you run out there, you'll be announcing to the big predators that you are prey." His shoulder popped audibly and he hissed. "I heard Haru tell you last night. Natural predators only hunt when they're hungry, but..." He gestured toward her.

"But if you run or otherwise act like their chosen prey, they'll attack on instinct," she recited.

"Exactly." He smiled towards Haru, but her attention was on getting their packs ready. "They'll fly off soon. There hasn't been much game in these parts for years. So they nest in the branches of this old guy and hunt somewhere else during the day."

The wailing babies became the mewling of a litter of kittens. Akiko's eyes widened and she reflexively reached for the tarp, but stopped herself short of yanking it aside. Jordan was impressed by her self control, maybe she wasn't as young as he'd initially believed just small from lack of food.

We linger on Jordan's early days with Haru and Akiko because they were his first interaction with real people in almost one hundred years, and the attachment to them he developed would prove integral to the events of his story. In them, he'd found a link to a world he'd abandoned and examples of how things had changed. But neither of the three knew this at the time.

It hadn't snowed in the night like they'd feared, but the heavy dark clouds continued to gather throughout the day. They traversed murky streams, nearly frozen over, and stretches of frozen mud that had once been lakes of mire. By the time they'd reached the outskirts of The Belgaul Swamp, the dim light of day had all but faded. Through the trees, the lights of bonfires and torches could be seen over the horizon.

A strange feeling fluttered in Jordan's chest as he forged through a snow drift, cutting a path between two wide trees with interlocking branches. It wasn't magik, like his first assumption, but something more primal. There would be people around the dozens of fires. The thought of being seen, being acknowledged, suddenly made him uneasy. Jordan glanced back the way they'd come. He'd gotten the girls safely out of the swamp, he could return to his shack with a clear conscience.

Haru stumbled through the snow and into one of the trees, her left arm and leg ticking violently. Akiko rushed to help her, ignoring the spasmodic twitching of her own fingers. He thought of Druid's Bane, and the only person he knew that understood the poison and would want anything to do with him. He hoped he was wrong.

Quieting his own discomfort, Jordan patiently waited for the pair. Beyond the trees stood a low and long mound of snow, too uniform to be natural. Someone had likely taken the time to shovel. On the other side was a road of stone, lightly dusted with snow. It wound out of sight, but clearly in the direction of the town lights.

"The outskirts, just as you'd said." Haru joined him, sounding winded from exertion. "Your route was far quicker than the one we'd taken and, if not for you, I wouldn't have had a chance to help the ganmar. This feels like providence."

He raised an eyebrow, suspicious that this was her way of expressing thanks.

"Old Ganmar and I have weathered a lot and I hadn't realized how sick he was. I didn't say anything before... thank you."

"I treated a symptom, but the cause remains. To remove the corruption would require more than I can muster in my current condition." She shook and Jordan feared she might lose her footing again. He hesitated to reach for her. "I gave the last of my poultice to Akiko. I'm not sure she could have held out until we received the antidote."

Something about her tone put him on edge.

"We're almost there. Then you two can be cured and get a good night's sleep."

She pulled him in with her cold gaze. Haru wasn't the woman she reminded him of, yet his chest tightened nonetheless.

"The men who poisoned us aren't the kind to be trusted. I searched for you out of desperation... but I'm not foolish enough to believe they'll easily hand over the antidote. I'm holding out hope they won't make me hurt them."

"The Naturalists Code." He ignored her flinch. "If these men attempt to swindle you, you won't need to break any of your order's rules. I'll make sure they pay what they owe."

"I don't want anyone to die. I just want Akiko safe... I'll do what needs to be done, but I sincerely pray it doesn't come to that."

He nodded and glanced over his shoulder. The little girl stood back from them, speckled with snow. The brightness in her eyes had been gradually fading since they'd started their trip. He reached into his side pouch and handed her a tiny tomato, last of the crop from his garden. A smile barely reached her eyes.

"Thank you!"

"This will be over soon. One way or another." The last was said for Haru's ears only.

The town was called Malin-Gon. The one Jordan remembered went by another name completely, but looked much the same. They were on the eastern edge of Fearhold, orc country. Ten foot walls surrounded the settlement and guard towers stood at each of the four cardinal points. A trio of armed men met them at the gates. Two brandished battle axes and shields marked with crude drawings of The Unbroken Circle. The third held a torch and a silver hoop. He thrust the talisman towards them the moment they entered the firefight.

"Touch the symbol and declare yourselves," the broad shouldered orc growled. Despite his size and thinning gray hair, his tusks were relatively small.

Haru placed a hand on Akiko's shoulder and the two stepped forward to take hold of the silver hoop. The guards watched intently.

"I'm Akiko."

"I am Haru. I have a room at Olga's Watering Hole."

The orc narrowed his eyes, but seemed satisfied. "I remember you. But when you left there were only two. Who is this one?"

"A hermit," Jordan said, stepping forward and touching the silver. A ripple of energy like static danced around the hoop. "I don't go around giving my name."

The older orc studied his hand, then nodded. "I don't know what you are, hermit, but you're no duppy." He gingerly poked Jordan's hand as if for confirmation. "You'll find we don't take kindly to troublemakers here in Malin-Gon. Tread carefully."

He gestured and the other guards made space for the trio to enter. The sky rumbled, threatening to finally release the snows it had promised all day. Jordan had never been to Malin-Gon yet it felt familiar. He studied the buildings as he followed Haru and Akiko down the main street. The town was a collection of three dozen stout two-story wooden structures with slanted roofs, their top floors open to the elements in the orcish fashion. The orcs were most comfortable in cold weather. Their hard ways were at home in Winter.

Flurries began to fall as they made their way to the town square. A handful of orcs and humans haggled at a covered wagon, loaded with barrels and crates. They spoke in the trading tongue, though a few of the words were foreign to his ears despite his familiarity with orcish and low-elven, the two languages from which the trade tongue originated. He mulled over the new words until Haru stopped in front of a squat building with a sign depicting a fat orc relieving herself into a large hole in the ground. Voices inside sang in the universal language of gamblers and drunkards.

"Our rooms are here. If you'll wait inside with Akiko, I'll find our quest-givers."

Jordan was taken aback by her suggestion, but a single glance at Akiko's shakes explained everything.

"I'll keep her safe," he said, putting his hand on the door.

"You're back faster than I thought, lass," A gravely gruff voice declared. "I half-thought you'd run away."

Four men stood behind them. A grizzled old human, dark-skinned face covered in scars, two much younger men carrying chains, and one of the ax-wielding orcs from the city gates. Except for the orc, the men all had the eyes of killers or slavers. He nervously scanned the torchlit streets as if he was supposed to be back at his post. The old man studied and measured Jordan, running his tongue over dry lips. Liking what he saw, he tapped the club in his hand excitedly.

"This man is gray, boss, but how do we know he's the one?" Of the two younger men, this one had the more intelligent eyes.

"This is the man you sent me for." Haru pulled Akiko behind her. "Give us what was promised."

The old man smirked, clearly having no intention of fulfilling his bargain. Jordan took alternating deep and quick breaths, bringing his muscles into readiness.

"Let me see him first. Let me make sure he's who you say he is. As the boy said, he could just be any old graybeard."

Jordan took a step forward and the orc took a step back. The guard was uneasy, but the humans were merely amused. Unimpressed, they stood their ground.

"I'm The Hermit of Belgaul," Jordan declared. "Pay the woman what you promised and let's be done with this."

"They say The Hermit of Belgual is nearly a hundred years old," the scarred man said. "You look to have barely seen thirty name days, despite the gray. Where did she dig you up?"

"South of Old Ganmar, where I would have been if you'd had the stones to come and find me yourselves."

The young man with the stooped brow spat in the snow and bulled forward, pressing his chest to Jordan's.

"You think we don't have stones?" he grunted.

"No stones and no brains." Jordan kneed the brute hard in the groin and the man dropped, eyes crossed and a wheeze leaving his lips. He locked eyes with the old man. "The town guard knows who I am. Pay what you owe."

The old man laughed loudly, swinging his arm in a sweeping motion. The others spread out, readying their weapons

"They warned me you were good." He grinned, a number of his teeth had been filed to points. "Luckily, I earn my silver on men like you."

"Then why send a woman and child into Belgaul? Why not come yourself and cut out the middleman?" Jordan flexed his fingers and put his hand to his side.

"I deal in bandits and cutthroats, but I'm no naturalist. Duppy and vine beasts are out of my league. So I used what was on-hand lure out my prey."

The young man in the snow groaned and started to rise.

"Tell your men to stand down, pay this woman, and we can talk about the person who sent you."

"Oh, I don't think so. My boy here is going to want a piece of you first. Ain't that right, Jaq?"

Jordan felt Haru and Akiko back away from him even as Jaq jumped to his feet, grabbing for his collar. Rushing towards the young man instead of away, Jordan drove the butt of his hunting knife into the bounty hunter's jaw. The man went limp as Jordan scooped him off his feet and tossed him at his partner with the chains. Both fell over in a tangle of iron links and limbs. Jordan leapt over them and into the orc guardsman. Fear and surprise stole a couple of seconds from the man's reaction. Jordan disarmed him then struck low, smashing his knee. The orc howled and fell over, his ax forgotten.

The old man stood poised and ready, gripping his club like a man who knew how to use it.

"Did she pay you ahead of time?" Jordan asked, kicking one of the young men in the side of the head as he fought his way out of the chains.

"Half up front, half after I put those chains on you."

"Guild rules."

"Guild rules... Say, are you a member?"

"Never had the time." Jordan chuckled at his own joke.

"Shame. If this is you in your old age, the guild could have used you in your prime."

Jordan breathed deep and steady breaths, using the time between to listen to the world around him. The moaning of the men on the ground, the howling orc, the old man shifting from boot to boot. The two pairs of footsteps rushing up behind him.

"Look out!" Haru shouted. From the corner of his eyes, he saw her waving her arms in front of her, but this time she sang a word of power.

The snow and mud behind him rose into a wall of ice. The first man hit the barrier head first, the second went through it. Both were out of the fight before they'd truly joined it. The old man cursed.

"I owe you for that, lass."

"You already owe her for her services. No need to start a tab." Jordan nudged a hunk of ice aside. "Last chance: pay up and I'll come willingly."

The scarred man's face grew grim. "She never gave me the antidote, just the poison and where to find the naturalist. Promised, they'd lead you to me."

Jordan glanced at Haru and the hard set of her jaw. She'd known but, for Akiko, she'd gone along anyway.

"Sounds like you should have asked for more silver."

"Nah, these louts have forfeit their cuts."

"Harsh."

"It's a cold world." He spat in the snow. "Let's finish this."

"Sounds like a plan. My knees are starting to ache."

The man shuffled his feet then charged, Jordan matched him speed and step. The word of power left Haru's lips in a furious rush and ice grabbed the bounty hunter's ankles, locking him in place. Jordan sidestepped as the man toppled forward. The bounty hunter cried out as his knees and shins cracked audibly. He hit the ground in a pained heap and Jordan kicked his club out of reach.

Kneeling down, he took a handful of the man's wavy hair and tugged.

"Where's the woman who hired you? Where's Absinthe?"

"I'm right here, Jordie," A nasal voice purred, accentuated by the priming of a half-dozen crossbows.