Yeshin, The Night Thief, was born least of all of Winter's Scion. She was the whisper in the night and the missing trinket. She was the shuffling in the silent spaces and the shadow on the doorstep. When the Scions went to war, no one remembered little Yeshin. When her blade slayed Summer's champion, no one could forget her.

-The Third Verses of Creation

The banging stopped and silence filled the shack. Jordan stared at the door, drawing Wyrm's Tooth to him from beneath his pillow. Dim early morning light poured in from the windows and an ambush raven sang its deceptive song far in the distance. Jordan waited for a long moment before accepting that he had imagined the noise. Then it came again, more insistent and hard enough to shake a few gardening tools off their wall hooks. Jordan quietly rolled out of bed and padded over to the nearest window. He studied his fence assessing whether the barrier still held and the magic intrinsic to safeguarding his home remained intact.

When he could see no damage, he silently made his way to the other windows. If the duppy had gotten into the yard, his front door was his only buffer against the violent spirits. Jordan made a circuit around the shack until the only window left was the one beside the door. The knocking stopped as he sidled up beside the hazy glass and peered out. The gate remained closed, the fence in one piece. Craning his neck to spy the front door, he leaned forward as a face popped into view on the other side. His heart skipped a beat and he stumbled back, tripping over a stool and falling to the floor.

"Please, sire. Let us in."

He stared at her round eyes and prominent nose, refusing to believe what was right in front of his face.

"Sire, please! It's cold and we've traveled far." Her words jarred him out of his stupor.

The duppy had tried a damsel in distress to fool him the day before. Now they tried a mix of desperation and irritation.

He was impressed with their ingenuity and persistence, but he wasn't going to be lured in by their tricks. They'd been strong enough to get over the fence and smart enough to leave it looking whole. He couldn't risk giving them any more strength by humoring them though he could not fathom how they knew to imitate a face so similar to the woman who often haunted his dreams.

Clearing his thoughts, he stood and righted his stool. Pointedly ignoring the face watching him from the other side of the glass, Jordan went about his morning routine.

"Sire? Sire, do you hear me? We've traveled a long way and it is cold out here. Please, let us in!"

He tossed twigs into the belly of his oven to feed the coals and placed his kettle on top for tea. He did push ups and sit ups until thoroughly coated in sweat. The activity helped warm his bones and keep him in shape. From the corner of his eyes, he watched the face stare at him incredulously. With a smirk, he retrieved Wyrm's Tooth and practiced his forms. He'd need to get outside and figure out what was wrong with the fence. There had to be a break or a hole, and it needed to be mended before more duppy found their way in. He knew that meant he might have to fight.

He practiced every day without fail, but he hadn't had to actually use his blade forms in years. The thought made him focus on every step and every swing. His old teachers had drilled into him the importance of preparation. Their instruction had been decades ago, but he hadn't gotten so old that he'd forgotten their lessons.

The kettle whistled as he finished and what passed as the gloomy ghost of sunlight had fully filled his little clearing. The light would help in weakening the spirits. If it didn't leave in a few hours, he'd go out and deal with it himself. Pouring himself a small cup of tea and creating a porridge out of mashed roots and tree pulp, Jordan sat down for his breakfast.

The duppy pounded on the door again, but it didn't bother trying to communicate with him afterward. Instead, it tried the doorknob. Jordan listened for the telltale wail of pain that should have followed. What he heard was a much younger voice.

"It's unlocked. Can't we just go in? I'm freezing."

He'd never repaired the latch, but he'd never had to. The duppy couldn't get in and the closest people lived days away. Even so, he swore under his breath.

"No," the older voice responded. "It would weaken the blessing on the shack. If we're forced to take refuge, we'll need that protection against the murder spirits running around this swamp."

"But, Haru, I'm cold," the child whined.

Jordan put down his spoon and pushed his bowl away. Duppy didn't have names. They couldn't, it was part of their eternal curse.

He went over to the door, Wyrm's Tooth gripped at his side.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?"

"We were sent to find the old man south of the ancient ganmar tree at the heart of the swamp."

Jordan glanced out of his rear window. Old Ganmar was there, a good quarter day's march north.

"You still haven't told me who we are."

"I'm Akiko and she's—" the child began.

"Akiko! Hush."

"Haru," Jordan finished. "Akiko and Haru. Who sent you into The Belgaul and why?"

"Men who believed the tales about an old graybeard living in the shadow of the ganmar," Haru answered, "but were too much the cowards to search for him themselves."

He chuckled. Despite the gray whiskers and dreadlocks, Jordan would have never thought of himself as a graybeard.

"A group of men were too afraid, but you were willing to brave the swamp with your daughter in tow? Your story doesn't add up."

"Sire, I assure you—"

"You are not welcomed here. Leave."

"Sire, please..."

Jordan ignored her and set to cleaning his home. He'd let it fall to an abysmal state, but, since he wasn't going outside until his visitors had departed, he finally had an excuse to do some housekeeping. At some point he recalled his breakfast and managed to eat his cooling porridge between chores. Clearing the ashtrap of his stove, he took stock of his wood reserves. There was enough for the night, but the majority of his firewood was safely stacked and covered beside the shack. Outside.

As the day progressed, Jordan began to feel like a prisoner. Knowing him, I suspect part of him was happy to feel anything after so many years of isolation.

He dragged a chair over to the window and listened while trying to remember a song taught him by a friend decades ago. It had been so long that he'd forgotten how it went. As he rocked comfortably in the unbalanced seat he'd crafted himself, he searched his memories for threads of distant notes.

"Oh, sun. Oh, sun. Please come out for me. The winter is biting and I can't go out and play. Oh, sun. Oh, sun. Please shine for me. The freezing teeth have killed my friends, please chase them all away."

Jordan held his breath as the little girl, Akiko, sang. The words were new, but the cadence and tune was something from his past. An old prayer to the symbol of Summer. An ode to the sun.

She repeated the refrain and he quietly sang along. His voice shook and the words came out croaked, but he persisted anyway. He had been a soldier of Winter, born and raised, but there had always been a bit of Summer in his heart. The song brought about memories of his youth, a forgotten age where winters lasted months, counterbalanced by warm and nurturing summers. Within all of those pictures and half-remembered moments was the face of a girl who would one day become the most important woman in his life. Round eyes of shimmering gold and a prominent nose, full and haughty.

A single cold tear rolled down his cheek.

Shaking his head, he tuned out the song and the memories with thoughts of the mangled orc bodies, the filthy waters with their dubious detritus, and the squirming of feasting beetle larva. Grounded in the cold and brutal present, his past receded. Saddened by his reality and saddened still by the brighter days lost, lost forever, he drifted into a quiet slumber

When Jordan awakened, the sun was already making its descent towards the horizon.

"Excuse me. I'm lost, might you give me directions?" a familiar voice called.

Akiko answered before he could remember where he'd heard it before.

"We're not from here. We don't– ouch!"

"Go away! We can't help you!" Haru shouted.

"If we are both lost, maybe we can help one another. Can I come in? I have food. We can share and figure out where we are."

"Haru, I'm hungry." As proof, the little girl's stomach growled loudly.

"Quiet," Haru hissed. "Be gone from here, spirit. We will not be fooled by your tricks!"

The duppy. Jordan jumped up, spilling his rocking chair in the process. Through the window, he could see the creature in its doe-eyed facade slowly pacing in front of his gate. She appeared like a meek damsel, but her body language screamed hungry predator.

"You don't both have to die, woman," the duppy said in a conversational tone. "Give me the child. Her sweet meat will sate me for a time. I promise, when I come for you I'll be quick and merciful."

"Be gone."

"Let me in."

"Be gone."

"Open this gate!"

Jordan jerked open the door to his shack and grabbed a startled Akiko by the shoulder.

"Inside. Now," he ordered, pulling the girl over his threshold and shoving her to the side of the doorway.

The duppy bellowed in rage and drew the crossbow from the folds of her common clothes. Jordan ducked as she fired, her first bolt whizzing past his shoulder. Haru froze for a moment, waving her hands in front of her, and Jordan reacted. Tackling her down, the next bolt thunked into the wall of the shack where her chest would have been. She shoved him off and scrambled for the door. On her heels, he managed to get inside and kick the door closed before another deadly shot could reach them. The duppy's shriek made the window glass shake in its pane.

Jordan got to his feet quickly, moving to keep both of his visitors in his line of sight. Haru rose and stood in front of the little girl, arms wide, eyes trained on his right hand. It took him a moment to realize she stared at Wyrm's Tooth. He didn't remember drawing the broken sword.

"You won't need that, sire," the young woman said. Average height, she had high strong cheekbones and full lips. Her skin was the color of smoky coal, so dark it was nearly black. "We were sent to find you and convince you to return with us. We have no intention of employing violence."

Akiko's stomach grumbled, louder than the foul shouts of the duppy.

Jordan looked down at the weapon and back to the woman. After a long moment, he placed Wyrm's Tooth in the leather sheath he'd made for it. Without taking his eyes off of them, he backed away and righted his chair. Tapping the rear, tiny stands slid out to keep it from rocking. Putting out a small wooden plate he forked out a boiled root from the pot atop the stove. Stepping away from the table, he went to the window and watched the fuming duppy kick up furrows of dirt by his gate.

"The girl should eat."

"My name is Akiko." Her color was that of coco, a few shades lighter than Jordan himself yet still beautifully dark.

"I know that," he grumbled. "You should eat something."

When neither moved he sighed, went over to the table, and cut himself a small piece. Making a show of chewing and swallowing the food, he gestured to the plate and returned to the window. He pretended not to hear Haru's whispered instructions. When Akiko shuffled over to the chair and sat, he feigned disinterest.

"It's a bit bland, but it's far better than bitter bark."

She took an exploratory nibble then gobbled down the root. A weight left his shoulders. He was sure they weren't duppy because they hadn't lost their shapes when he'd touched them, but listening to the child chew was a relief. Duppy were repulsed by cooked food.

"Thank you," Akiko said, around a mouthful of starchy tuber.

"Are you hungry?" he asked Haru.

Her cheeks darkened slightly and she rolled her eyes. "Of course I am."

Jordan put two of his remaining three roots in his breakfast bowl, his only other piece of kitchenware, and slid it across the table. With the barest of hesitation, the young woman grabbed the stool by the wall and sat at the table. Whispering a prayer to The Unbroken Circle, she wolfed the food down as enthusiastically as Akiko. Jordan split his attention between his eating guests and the duppy outside. The other two malevolent spirits joined the first and after an animated argument they disappeared into the darkening swamp.

Jordan's brow knitted in frustration. Full dark came quickly in The Belgaul and he couldn't cast out two visitors, especially a child. Their deaths would be on his hands. They'd made it on their own to his little shack in the middle of nowhere, which meant they were capable, but he understood how easily luck could carry a day. Better to be cautious than regretful.

"You can stay the night, but, at first light, you have to leave." His words came out gruff and almost threatening.

"So you will come back with us then?" Haru asked, a bit of root on her cheek.

"No."

He climbed into bed and rested his eyes, listening intently. The young woman looked like someone he once knew. So much so that, when sleep inevitably came, he wasn't sure whose face his memories conjured.