The last stone was set with a dull thud. Levi stood there a moment longer, watching as one of the lads from the outer huts wiped his brow and grinned. The house was done. So was the storage barn. It had taken them two full moons longer than he thought it would, but now it stood solid, square, real.

He should've felt proud.

Instead, he felt lost. He had an idea and he did it.

The sun broke through the gray, filtering down through the mist like fingers. Villagers moved around him, carrying bundles, stacking reeds, chatting about saltfish and boots. But no one asked him what came next. What would he do next. This stranger who came to their village.

Because no one knew.

Mae's hearth still burned each night, her presence as steady as the tides. But even she seemed quieter lately, as though waiting for the world to do something. Harwin had taken to sharpening his spear twice a day, a habit Levi couldn't ignore.

He had built. Now they watched. He wonders if they know something he doesn't.

Three days passed in that stillness.

Then the rider came.

Muck-covered from chest to heel, the man wore a green cloak and carried a banner none recognized at first glance. But Mae did. She took one look and muttered, "Reed."

The man dismounted stiffly. "Lannym a crannogmen," he said, glancing around. "Sent from Greywater. Heard word of a growing post."

Mae didn't blink. "You're far from your swamps."

"Greywater moves," he said. "And so does concern."

He wasn't hostile. But he wasn't smiling, either. Levi stood with him by the half-finished palisade and answered as best he could. No lord ruled here. No taxes collected yet. Trade? Just a few carts. Coin? A trickle. Nothing big enough to threaten anyone.

"Yet," Lannym said. "That's what concerns some."

Levi didn't argue. He simply nodded.

"You've done some things around here. Things swampfolk don't mostly do." Lannym said, eyes on the new house. "Something others might claim. Or be interested in."

Laynnym said "I came only to tell you this after all. we are mostly watching what happens in the neck. For it is our Duty and Honor. That is all fare well."

"Oh and be careful I've heard rumors of bandits around the areas keep that in mind."

He left after that as night came. A peculiar way to live and act.

That night, Mae didn't say much. But her glance lingered on Levi longer than usual. He didn't sleep.

Three days later, the second group arrived.

This time, no cloaks or banners. Just wagons and wheels and voices shouting in the wind. A caravan, flying the colors of Barrowton. House Dustin. Salted meat, woven baskets, lamp oil. And coin.

They didn't come to inspect. They came to buy.

They took swampberries, dried fish, bundles of woven rushgrass. One even asked about what's been happening in this side of the land.

Levi stood near the barn with a pouch of silver heavier than anything he'd earned in weeks. Around him, people bartered. Laughed. A boy from Bogwater ran after a cart yelling about cheese prices.

It stirred something deep in him. As to what this is he doesn't know it just yet.

That night, he sat with Mae by the fire. The logs crackled. Outside, the swamp croaked and buzzed with life.

"You're thinking to yourself again." Mae said.

He blinked. "That obvious?"

"You're waiting to be caught. As if none of this is has nothing to do with you."

He didn't answer. She sipped her tea.

"If the lords come," she said, "speak to them. If you don't, they'll speak for you."

He stayed up late, writing by candlelight. Scribbled notes on who'd come, what they'd brought, and who else might.

Bogwater wasn't a just a place anymore.

It was on the map.

And someone maybe not a lord, maybe not yet would need to speak for it.

Maybe its someone who cares about it.