Ronin

Rain in the Styx always tastes rusty.

You sat behind the counter, counting your earnings—the coins jingling in your fingers. When the curtain at the entrance twitched, a damp, cold wind blew in and flipped through the pages of the ledger.

• Mistress, are you buying?

You didn't even raise your head.

• No. Last time you sold me an "antique" teapot, and on the bottom there was a stamp that said "Made in Ninjago City."

Ronin leaned against the doorframe, the brim of his hat dripping. He cocked his head to the side, the patch over his right eye glistening with moisture in the dim light.

— This is a limited edition. A rarity.

— A rarity for three coins.

He chuckled and entered, leaving dark footprints on the floor from his wet boots. You finally looked up and saw him take something from his bosom and place it on the counter. A jade pendant. The stone was simple, but the carving was intricate, resembling ancient writing.

"I'm not lying." His voice was quieter than usual. "I fished it out of the bottom of the Styx River. Maybe it's someone's grave."

You reached out to take it—and the moment your fingers touched the pendant, his hand covered yours. Rough, cold from the rain.

“Fifty,” you said.

• Eighty.

• Sixty, and that's the limit.

He looked at you for two seconds. Then he removed his hand and took a step back.

• Okay. Consider me indebted to you.

You froze. Ronin never negotiated for credit. And he never said "owe." He simply stood there, soaking wet, water running from his hair down his neck and into his collar.

“You seem a bit different today,” you said, putting the pendant away in the drawer.

He didn't answer. He turned away and began examining the junk on the walls. Your shop is small, but there's a ton of stuff—rusty blades, cracked masks, chipped cups. All sorts of things that aren't worth anything, but it's a shame to throw them away. Ronin came in often. Sometimes he'd sell something. Sometimes he'd just stand there and watch, as if waiting for something.

"The Styx is unsettled," he finally said, his back to you. "Some kind of creatures have appeared by the river. Neither people nor spirits."

• Are you afraid of something?

He turned around. The corner of his mouth twitched, but no smile emerged.

— I'm afraid of many things.

Ninjago.