Everything about the approaching noble screamed of high magic. The surety with which he walked. The casual disregard of everything around him. The menagerie of vengeful spirits orbiting his locus of power. Where his fine purple silks spoke of nobility, his demeanor sold him as something so much more. Something that moulded nature to his will and bound whimsy to servitude. Something that felt no guilt about taking and taking and taking without return. Something that wouldn’t rest until it owned everything that could be owned. And that which could not. This was a man who saw the world as his rightful belonging to do with as he pleased. A man used to getting his way. A mage.

Gu spat in contempt.

He walked out the door with Senan in tow and put on his best neutral face to greet the uninvited visitor. Although Gu despised the noble, it wouldn’t bode well for his companions if he were to show open disrespect. The way of these creatures was not unfamiliar to him. A certain level of decorum and obeisance was needed to keep their fragile egos happy. And a happy noble was pliable.

As it stood, however, Gu could do nothing, blinded as he was by the billowing waves of darkness. He closed off his soul to hide the deluge of curses, broken agreements, and festering negativity that seeped out from the mage. After blinking his eyes clear of The Sight, Gu approached and gave a greeting of hospitality. “Welcome to our hum–”

“Dearest Senan, thank the gods I found you here in times of plight.” Viyas walked over and grabbed the scholar’s hands. “The journey here was filled with nought but worthless beggars. What a fright it was to travel all this way without a cultured soul in sight. Now quickly find this man of yours. We must depart while there’s still light.”

“–ble home.”

Senan coughed uncomfortably and freed himself after the socially appropriate amount of time had passed. “Noble Viyas, glad to see you make it here despite the cost. Without a man of virtue as yourself, this trip was all but lost. I kindly introduce the one beside me as our honoured host. His name is Gu. To know The Boatman surely is a tale to boast.”

Viyas deigned to glance at Gu for the first time since his arrival, sizing the man up and down. He plastered a stiff smile onto his face and greeted The Boatman. “Careless me, I didn’t see you there with all your…humble garb. A servant I mistook you for. I didn’t mean to prick and barb.”

“En,” Gu grunted…smilingly. “Noble Viyas, I invite you inside. Tea if you’d like.”

After a quick look at the cabin, Viyas shuddered. “Alas, I simply must refuse. Our time is short. We’ve none to lose.”

“The Boatman’s tea is famed by all – a legend spread across the land. To leave without a taste is letting gold slip through your noble hand,” the scholar whispered advice to the unwilling noble.

“Supposing that it won’t take long, I’ll heed the counsel offered strong.” Viyas nodded and turned to look at Gu. He tapped his foot. “Well, tarry not, we must depart while there’s still time for journey’s start.”

Gu smiled. “Of course, noble Viyas. Right away, noble Viyas.” He walked back into the cabin without a fuss.

Senan knew better. Knew that this was not a happy Gu. He suppressed a shiver when he saw the murderous expression spreading across The Boatman’s face. To the untrained eye, Gu’s face might have appeared, for all intents and purposes, to be sporting what is oft referred to (by the common man) as a smile. To an esteemed imperial scholar, however – especially to one familiar with The Boatman’s mannerisms – this so-called smile was nine parts death sentence, one part sadism. For Gu to wear a smile was like a truthful merchant peddling honest wares. Like a noble mage with noble virtues. Like a – moo – yes, thank you. Like a whimsied cow that smelled of roses. A cold sweat ran down his back as he watched Gu enter the cabin. The last known instance of Gu smiling was when he made three unwitting volunteers shovel ‘consecrated ground’ for the better part of the morning. For there to be not one, but two smiles in such short succession only boded poorly for the noble mage. When he saw Milo being called into the cabin, Senan almost felt bad for what was to come.

“–and thus I burned their squalid home. But can you blame me? Who allowed such mangy pests to freely roam.”

Almost.

♢♢♢

“En. En. So after that, I threw in three of these brown things and boiled the water with kohlnuts. Then when it looked like the right colour, I threw in these tea leaves–”

“Those look like tea leaves?” Gu asked.

“Well they look like leaves. Anyway, I’m pretty sure they’re related.” Milo nodded, satisfied by his own logic. “Right. So I threw in the tea leaves and stirred it until it looked like the flavour seeped in, then I scooped out everything and put it into a bowl.” The boy finished recreating the general concept of his hospitality tea from yesterday. “The masterpiece is complete.”

“Looked like the flavour seeped in,” Gu repeated back. “Poor Nahla. This is a crime.”

“What about Nahla?” the guest in question asked as they walked through the door.

“Nothing.” – “I just finished making tea, do you want some?”

“...No. I’m full, but thank you for the offer,” Nahla politely declined. They were much more concerned about the wellbeing of the child who just ran inside without saying a word despite being afflicted by a mysterious malady just moments ago. “How do you feel? Is everything alright?”

Milo nodded. “When Mr. Cow went moo just now, everything suddenly felt better. And now everything feels better than better because I get to be a good host again.”

Nahla looked blankly at the tea – “I’ll leave you to it then” – and left the kitchen to seek a more comfortable place to relax. One free of any crimes. Nahla sat on the couch and decompressed. Fortunately, it seemed like their worries were unfounded. Though slightly chaotic, finding out that Milo had recovered without any lingering issues brought a wave of relief to the weary guest. They were starting to grow fond of the child and his…mannerisms. Nahla slumped down and privately whispered back Milo’s incantation from earlier, “Shlorp. Shlorp. Slug noises.”

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, the stamp of self-approval was given to Milo by Milo for his most recent creation. He passed the tea to Gu. With a sniff, the man confirmed that the steaming cup of dubious ingredients adequately represented all the feelings of hospitality he had for the mage waiting outside. The smile never left his face as he returned to deliver the welcome gift.

“Oh there he is – our charming host. I feared he faded like a ghost,” Viyas quipped upon Gu’s return.

“Apologies, noble Viyas,” Gu smiled obsequiously and presented the cup with both hands. “Enjoy the tea of hospitality. Freshly made.”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Senan watched with a barely disguised gleam of mirth in his eyes as the noble mage held the cup and inhaled. Whatever interesting floral blend the tea was made from caused Viyas’ mask of control to crack on contact. The mage wrinkled his nose in disgust. It took him a great deal of willpower to reign in his basic instincts and don the mantle of elegance once more. He looked over to Gu’s field. “It seems that fertile soil has tainted fragrant tea I’ve just acquainted.” He lowered the cup away from his face.

“Perhaps this wasn’t the best of occasions to sample the master’s work seeing as unforeseen circumstances have tainted the air as you said,” Senan replied. “The taste, however, should largely be left intact. A fair warning: the complex richness of The Boatman’s tea might be difficult to grasp for some. If knowledge of the art is lacking, one might find it a challenge to comprehend the profundities within.”

“Certainly I’m many things, but lacking is not one. I take this challenge fearlessly. I’m sure I’ll overcome,” Viyas said with his nose to the skies.

Clear amber ripples diffused around the cup as the noble brought it to his lips and took a sip. He swished the liquid around to savour the multifaceted layers of mastery playing on his tongue – for proper appreciation of the art. This simple act fanned the flames of herbal warfare. Clashing properties of a dozen different plants waged botanical battle on the warring grounds of his palate. The Sweet Kingdom fought The Bitter Empire. The Salt Clan ambushed House Sour. Spiced merchants sabotaged Fishy naval routes. Grassroot alliances crushed Blossoming guilds. He froze, face turning red.

Gu and Senan watched with interest as the noble cycled through myriad colours, shades, and expressions.

“Well, how is it?” the scholar asked.

“Profound design, a complex coat. Ambrosia slithers down the throat. A lesser man might balk at the impressive master’s work. The varied flavours pierce and prod the tongue like sharpened dirk.” Viyas clicked his tongue twice as if savouring the experience. “A man as great as I can sense The Boatman’s apogee. My noble palate can decipher mastery of tea.”

“En. A master of appreciation.” Gu slowly clapped.

“Indeed, just as I expected of the wise noble Viyas. Not even the inscrutable workings of The Boatman’s artisanal designs can make it past such an erudite, learned mind.” Senan shook his head in defeat.

Had he feathers, Viyas would have been positively preening from the praise. Instead, he drained the last of the cup and handed it back to Gu. He clenched his eyes shut in contemplative appreciation as new pathways of flavour combinations seared their way into his mind. Once he recovered, he turned to the scholar. “Perhaps, old man, one day I’ll condescend to teach you something new. For now, the day is growing long. We should make haste without ado.”

“Noble Viyas. Because of…delays,” Gu hid gritting teeth beneath a supplicating smile, “it’ll be dark before we reach the sea. We leave tomorrow morning.”

“Nonsense! A nautical anomaly so praised should have no issue with a challenge raised.”

“It’s dangerous. I insis–”

“In Common” – Viyas spat the word – “that means we leave now.” Without waiting for a response, he walked towards the shoreline with both hands behind his back.

Gu waited until the noble was far out of earshot before glaring at Senan. “If I don’t kill this sémeʔ you brought by the end of this journey, I’m a whimsied saint.”

♢♢♢

Fortunately for everybody involved, the preparations for the journey had long been completed. From the break of dawn until the present afternoon, the only thing missing was their unwanted 5th member. Now with Viyas finally joining them, the voyage was set to start.

The entire crew assembled by the shoreline. Nahla was off to the far side, eyes closed, muttering to the water in a language that none could understand. The river swelled in synchrony as if the mass of an incomprehensible beast pulsed within its depths, rising and falling to the cadence of their incantation. Milo, fuelled by an instinctual need to be as far away from the mage as possible, sidled up to Nahla’s praying figure. The remaining three were standing by the boat’s tether line going over last minute arrangements. It seemed like everything was in order.

Gu opened The Sight and looked over to see Nahla’s progress. The dense, foggy darkness pouring out of the noble mage blinded Gu and rendered his Sight near useless. But for his purposes, that mattered not. It didn’t take much to see the two beacons of light that carved out their own space within the miasma. One glowed with a verdant light identical to the consecrated ground left by Mr. Cow. It shrouded the entirety of Milo’s body and kept the vengeful spirits at bay. The other cast out a watery glow from inside Nahla’s heart. It pulsed along with the river’s flow and expanded by the second. The preparation that began last night was nearing completion.

The boat continued to rise and fall, its ropes straining and slackening as the river took deep, expansive breaths. After a few dozen cycles, the river levelled out and the currents resumed their flow. Nahla finished their chant and rejoined the group with the manifestation of their Gift fully formed. Reluctantly, Milo trailed behind.

Gu blinked The Sight away once the two beacons arrived. With the details ironed into steel and everybody in the crew assembled, it was time for the boarding announcement. “Ground rules: if I say something, you do it. Don’t anger the serpents. Don’t violate the Dragon King’s Treaty. Don’t be stupid. Get on the boat. We’re leaving.”

Gu checked their faces one by one to see that everybody was in agreement with the rules. After one last nod of confirmation, he jumped from shore to tether, then tether to boat. The movement was practiced. Efficient. He landed on the deck with barely a sound. The rope dipped no more than it would from a stray gust of wind. Then, with a loud bang, Viyas detonated the ground by his feet and launched himself aboard. Milo and Nahla, both clad in serpentskin, swam to the portside ladder and climbed up. Gu handed them back their overcoats to cover up upon arrival. Leaving just Senan behind on shore.

The scholar paced back and forth on the weathered rocks, looking to the boat with pleading eyes. “Dearest Boatman. My cherished friend. Companion of years long past. My brother without blood…” he trailed, hoping Gu would pick up the hint.

“...” Gu ignored him.

Senan coughed. “A scholar should avoid all that which mars the dignity and stains the reputation. It simply won’t do. So please,” he clasped his hands like a beggar, “please carry me up and spare these old bones the indignity of water.”

“They swam,” Gu said, pointing to the serpentskin duo.

“But they are young of bones and supple of flesh, whereas I would be but an old drowned rat. An ancient, decrepit, weak, and infirm thing. A frail mockery of man. One that is, as it happens, overly susceptible to cold.”

“Noble Viyas can light you on fire.”

“Alas, I am overly susceptible to heat as well,” Senan sighed. “As you can see, I am naught but a collection of weaknesses. An anthology of defects. Pitiable in all ways. Like an abandoned pet. Like a starving orphan. I am but another such creature deserving of charity and mercy. Please, kind and magnanimous Boatman, will you not carry me aboard?”

“I will not.”

“...”

Viyas growled in annoyance, “Tired I grow of this whole farce. My patience wears both thin and sparse.” The noble walked up to the prow of the boat and commanded Senan, “Step into the water and jump.”

“In what manner should I jump? Upwards, or forwards, or–”

“Now.”

Senan walked to the water’s edge and flung himself a respectable half-foot into the air. The moment he left the ground, the water and rocks beneath him detonated in a spray of vapour and pebbles, sending him flying through the skies. Arms flailing and legs flapping, the scholar noted, in this time-dilated moment of clarity, that he felt a repulsive force from his feet countering the power of the explosion. As well, another guiding force materialized around his body to ferry him onto the boat. A subtle feat of magic through and through. Thump. He did, ultimately, land splayed across the deck face first, but the damage he suffered was negligible compared to that of an equal fall of a non-magical nature.

He stood up and patted himself off happily. “Yes, as you can see, in this manner the scholar’s dignity was preserved. I thank you.” The dignified scholar hobbled into the cabin and took a seat. “However, if you’ll excuse me, I need a moment to recover from pyrrhic victory.”

Gu ignored him and untied both of the tethers that kept the boat moored. He unfurled the mainsail and did some fancy boaty ropey things that Milo couldn’t comprehend. Despite the mysterious, intangible nature of the actions he was witnessing, it was clear to the boy that whatever boatineering sorcery was at work produced tangible effects. Finally after all these days of waiting…finally after all the trials and tribulations…finally with the sun’s early descent splashing clouds with orange and pink…finally they were drifting down the river’s currents and heading towards the vast open sea.