We suffer now the dream of three seasons under the tyranny of one, summer. But it was a trade fair, a sorrow; far kinder, traded for a sorrow; far worse. It was his first action, to kill the wave. As all know it is better to shiver with those you love, than to watch them get crushed by the wave. Or to see them starve as salt is bathed over all land…

* Volume 1, The Start of New Summer.

You could smell the cold of night if you dared to breathe it.

Mucus would freeze just from standing outside, breathing it stung the chest down to the bowels.

It was better to keep your eyes closed, all should fear the eyes beginning to freeze.

There was no point in leaving them open in the first place.

The dark of night could not be understated, there was nothing to see, nothing in the sky, no light, unless man-made on the ground.

But even torches would not last long. Only during a summer night could you see a flame freeze. That was the case in the mortal world.

Summer only got worse as time passed, the storms, the heat, the cold. The sun itself became a bully, the night a nightmare. Only letting up when fall approached, and the first moon could be seen again.

All that made it more strange, the cold bothered Hao far less than it should.

It was still there, it tickled him, making his teeth clatter.

But the man who escorted him back to the dorm he was bathed in, had no problem. None at all, not with the dark or the cold.

The only sound he made was “Watch your step.” and before Hao knew it he was before the building where he would spend the night. A light glowing inside.

The man left without a farewell, Hao caught a glimpse of his face with the light coming through a window. It was still, stern, unstirred. Then he was gone, turning to leave.

I can stay anywhere I want… But I don’t know anywhere else but here.

Hao popped the door open, the cold air rushing inside.

The two women were still there, a slight surprise to Hao. They would have been kind to themselves if they sought a place with fewer windows and a big pit for flame.

The fire was the light glowing to the outside, the only light in the room, the younger of the two, a wrinkle at the edges of her eyes, shuffled it with a stick.

Unsure of what to do, Hao stood still at the door, two tokens and bag in his hand, letting in more cold than necessary.

It was not the cold he was thinking of, but the sleep he had full of dreams, it was the one at the fire who was washing his hair at the time.

An embarrassing situation at the least. If they wished they could have killed me back then. When I was defenseless, sleeping bare. What were those dreams anyway?

Hao began to blush. He did not think much of it less than an hour ago, but when he woke they continued their knowing looks.

Was I talking in my sleep, or could they look at my dreams like they were there? Well… they were.

The daughter stood and started moving, wiping down things that collected soot with a cloth. Getting any ash she saw off the floor.

The cauldron was still over the fire which was raging hot, another bucket just a little from the pit was trying to freeze. She dip her hand in the cold water before resuming her clean.

They clean here regularly? She is familiar with it, but it is not the place they stay. That two-tongued man Taoyi brought them here.

Cold brushed Hao’s back and he saw the woman shiver, he felt like a fool before stepping in.

His feet creaked on the floor and the door clacked as it closed.

The daughter turned her head to see Hao. Her robes were different, these wet again, ice forming, she shivered as she stood. Her robes crackled with the fire.

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Placing the cloth she was using to clean to the side, she bowed her head.

“Please, you don’t have to bow to me,” Hao said.

The action brought him less discomfort than before. Still, he did not want to see it, not for any reason unless he deserved it.

The sound made the mother wake, her robe different as well, slightly off-kilter as she was in one of the beds.

She too shivered as she got up. Leaving the comfort of her warmer rest.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you. I will use another room.” Hao said.

He started to reach for the door, he was just a step in front of it.

“Please, wait. Wait.” Hao turned back to the words from the less-spoken daughter.

“The other rooms have been scavenged for other parts of the Sect… They have no beds for wood for warmth.”

She had her head lifted, but not for long, returning to her bow now deeper, “Young Master…”

Hao looked about the room, one cauldron more of a large pot with a pile of wood not far away. Empty vases, a place to bathe, five beds; an uneven number, nothing to pay attention to unless it was pointed out. The room fit five beds, but could easily fit one more.

Three on the far wall from Hao, one the mother just woke from, two on his side, either side of an unruly window not far from the door.

Hao looked back where the mother was, she placed her hands on her stomach and bowed her head, “Welcome back, Young Master.” She said.

Who thanks the one who disturbs their rest?

“You are welcome to do as you please with the beds, if you like we can take our leave.”

Like the beast’s rump to the face, Hao was struck.

“No, please, do not treat me like that, I am not someone special…” Hao said.

“Surely young master jests.” The mother said.

“I was still a servant when the Sun touched noon, I am no different now that night has come.” Hao was getting used to speaking like the elders, and disciples.

He knew which words in the hall were true, all of them even the crude insults. I have no aptitude, no ‘talent’, who knows how far this farce goes. Can a dead person leave the place where they died? Can I leave this place?

The daughter lifted her head, looking up from her bow, her mouth half open, squinted brows. Her hands lifted to her mouth becoming covers for her shock, as she glanced at her mother who walked with a slow rock.

The mother walked past the fire into the light, not fixing her robe, twisted from her restless sleep.

How will you react now, how will your two-tongue ancestor react? Hao did not care for reverence, or so he thought, but he hated the idea of losing it now that people were willing to bow.

“Would you prefer we act comfortably?” The mother asked.

“Yes. I am just a boy.” Hao said. His words were forced from his lungs, he feared mockery like that of the Elders gave him. Half-breed; a word he knew too well.

Silence rested over the room, the only sound was the buzzing of embers going cold, and the slamming of the window that would not stay closed.

The two worked together as Hao stood still.

Throwing wood chips into the fire bolsters the faded flames. Soot and ashes shot out coating the room.

Their red fingers continued to poke at the flame, as they shivered as logs were added.

The mother crouched down, her knees touching the floor in front of the fire, pushing a log deep into the center of the flames.

“You were a servant this morning, yet have a great treasure in your hand, in your possession you have not one, but two tokens, that bear the mark of an elder.”

The daughter started to hand her small pieces of poorly chopped wood, numbed fingers getting splinters with each hand full.

“Would you not say that is at least slightly odd.” The mother said, setting the wood aside for a moment. She placed one hand over her mouth and gave a chuckle, an elegant laugh and with well-taught manners.

“You could say, that depending on how you use the word ‘special’, you are greater in that regard compared to any ‘boy’ who comes up this mountain in silk robes, golden crowns, jade piled on their arms and neck.”

The daughter leaned down to the fire, blowing hard, the fire roared, a deep rumbling with ashes and embers scattering around becoming brighter.

“I believe you heard me before, but not just any lout can meet the Elders when they arrive on the lower peak in gray servants’ robes ‘boy’” She said.

Standing slow she looked at him walking through the fresh smoke.

Hao finally had a realization, when was the last time that bell was rung? Why did no one take that trial? He could ask them, would servants know?

A hand came from the mother, her hand on Hao’s cheek, her sleeve no longer on her face. She had tired eyes a green like foam on the ocean surface and a wrinkle on her cheek as she gave a smile.

“You are a bit foolish, how can a person fall asleep as the person they woke up as, did they not eat, breath, or blink?” She said.

Hao missed such a smile, one of concern, at the moment he did not care if it was real or fake.

“So, would you like us to leave? Young Master?” the mother said. Pulling her hand away from Hao.

“No, I do not want you to go. The night is getting colder, just stop with the Young Master.” Hao said he took another step into the room.

“Would you allow us to call you that if you took us in?” The daughter spoke, “There is much we help you with…” her voice was shaky, the same panic she spoke with before Hao left earlier.

If her mother’s voice was honey, hers was grains of sugar.

Hao blushed at the words, the boy’s mind going to things it should not.

“Calm down, do not put pressure on him. In public, we must call you young master, as ancestor has given us to you, temporarily.”

Ancestor… Does that two-tongued man have something to do with her panic?

“Surely he can take us, he has the token of two elders, one of the badges is the badge of the second elder.” She pleaded, as her mother held her.

“Please, you must know my mother is a dancer… and the is more help we could give.” The daughter walked over standing near Hao as her mother held her.

Hao tried to walk back, but there was nothing but a wall behind him.

“I am not sure I can protect myself…” Hao said. It was the truth, but he said it to escape the discomfort brought by the tears of the older woman who ran at him.

The eyes of the mother flashed a similar despair, for only a moment, something Hao was able to catch with his eyes now at the Second stage of Reclamation.

It was far worse than if they called him ‘Young Master’, he pulled his eyes away. He knew looking away was not the right thing to do.

“He is right he has yet to establish himself in the Sect. You heard his words yourself, he was a servant. He does not know of Dancers. There is still time for Penqi, there is still time for your girl.” The mother embraced her daughter.

The air was warm for just a moment by the fire, the smoke was sucked outside through a hole in the firepit.

The night grew colder and the world let them know, the wind screeched, and the windows of the building shuttered, the air was trying to steal, drag out the little warmth inside.

The two women huddle around the flame. And spoke to each other, quietly among themselves. Hao was unsure what to do but watched, he could hear the whispers if he wished. But he did not.

The mother, a grandmother, held her daughter fully grown, a mother herself.

Sniffling from the cold and tears prodded Hao’s heart and mind.