Nahla’s Gift strained under the will being exerted by the ancient creature. She was almost of a mind to release the serpent’s reins and allow it to tear the mage apart. In this regard, the thoughts of woman and serpent were aligned. The only thing holding her back was a certain level of concern. Not for Viyas’ sake. He could die for all she cared. But rather for the sake of her companions who would inevitably be burdened if a noble – and a mage no less – died under their watch. Innocent or not, the flames of revenge would tear their humble life apart. She couldn’t bear to see that happen. So out of concern for Gu and for Milo, she bargained with the serpent. It would only be allowed to retaliate if attacked first. One strike to startle. The second to maim. The third to bring death.

With a hiss, the serpent agreed to the terms. Nahla offered more of her Gift in compensation. The deal was struck. Its fins flared in open threat towards the shaking mage, but ultimately it did not attack. Though it backed down, the sapphire trim coursing along its scales stayed primed – poised to be unleashed if needed. It bided its time, waiting for an opportunity to sink the mage into abyssal grave.

Viyas scowled and patted himself off. Seeing the serpent shy away from battle filled him with some measure of confidence. It was a sign of weakness. A restriction of the taming. Something he could exploit. The mage concealed the feral grin that would have betrayed his intent. This had to be quick. Subtle. His moment of revenge would be claimed in silent surprise. He watched the serpent through the corner of his eye and waited for its attention to slacken. Waited for it to turn away. Waited for…

“Wow! Did you bring this friend here? It’s so big!” Milo ran up to the railing and leaned over to admire the serpent.

Nahla’s eyes widened. “Milo, it’s not safe now. You can make introductions later.”

“He…She?” Milo pondered how to call his new leviathan friend. “The serpent! The serpent looks very friendly. It feels safe to be around it.” He extended a hand. “Isn’t that right, big water friend?”

The serpent lowered its head and looked at Milo. Even just a single one of its emerald eyes was larger than the boy’s full height. It blinked slowly and crooned a series of deep, gentle clicks. The water coursing through the engraved paths on its body pulsed with light and faded.

“See? It’s so friendly and its scales are so nice,” Milo said with delight. He looked between the serpent and its tamer. “Actually it kind of reminds me of you. No wonder you’re friends! Does he—she—it…does it have a name yet? I think we should call it Naia. That way you two can be a pair! Nahla and Naia!”

“...” Nahla looked blankly at Milo.

Naia’s tongue flicked in and out. Seemingly pleased, it brought its head closer still to the boy, drawing so near to the boat’s edge that they were close enough to touch. From this distance its glistening scales were brought to new light, revealing details that were all but lost from afar. They were huge – each one at least the size of his hand – but their size belied a secret intricacy. The scales were covered throughout with the smallest of inscriptions. Subtle decorations that Milo had never noticed before, even on his own clothing. The runes painted the edges of each grey-green scale, marking each one subtly different from the next. Their varied but near-indistinguishable shades of blue added a hidden depth to the creature that would seldom be revealed except to those it trusted. The markings channeled water up through the scale’s tiny crevices like hundreds of tiny creatures working in tandem. It was stunning. He couldn’t help but reach out to touch it—

Suddenly the serpent’s enormous jaw opened and shot a glob of water at Milo that coated him and knocked him off his feet. It reared its head back with a snap and sprayed out a layer of mist in front of it.

Boom.

An explosion rocked the air, vaporizing the mist, and knocking Milo onto the deck. The air in front of him and Nahla sprouted web-like fractures before bursting apart.

The serpent lifted itself fifty feet from the water and roared. The sound staggered everybody aboard. While the humans reeled from the impact, the water flowing through Naia’s scales concentrated into the circular runes by its mouth. With a hiss, the tiniest beam of water streaked towards Viyas so fast that it was invisible to the naked eye. The air above the boat cracked. A single pinprick started a cascade of destruction that spread across the entire barrier and shattered it like a mirror. Gu staggered and released his Gift. He summoned another layer to protect himself and the other three bystanders, leaving Viyas to fend for himself.

A single drop of blood fell from the side of Viyas’ face before he could even process what had happened. The first strike. To startle.

The mage focused his Gift on the serpent’s skull. The previous mist had disrupted his aim, but this time he would strike true. The beast’s store of water was consumed. While it recovered, the initiative was his. He clenched his fist and revealed the feral grin that he had been suppressing for far too long.

Boom.

The blinding flash of light accompanying a burst of flames obscured everything from sight. Scaly matter sprayed out and flew through the air, pelting the deck with a flurry of tiny percussive hits. Then–

Splash.

Falling into the ocean, the serpent’s body sent a gushing wave high into the skies. Stray droplets from the splash fell on the boat like torrential downpour. Salty brine mixed together with the blood trailing down the mage’s face, diluting it, hastening its fall. He licked his lips in ecstasy at the sight of the scales and ocean water shimmering on deck.

“And let that be a warning to the filth who think themselves above. A noble mage may suffer slights but never will they b—”

Hiss.

Viyas’ victory proclamation was interrupted by sudden crippling pain in his left shoulder. The invisible line of water that shot out from the furious serpent sheared through muscle, cartilage, tendon and bone before coming out the other side. The second strike. To maim.

His arm fell limp to his side. It was still attached, but the needle-thin hole that pierced from front to back rendered it virtually useless. The noble screamed in pain and fell onto the deck, face pale.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Naia rose from the ocean once more, runic circles filled and pulsing with azure glow. The third strike was prepared. It was more than ready to kill. There would be not a second of hesitation if presented with the chance.

Alas, on this day there would be no such opportunity. It hissed in annoyance and provocation both.

The once-hostile mage shrank back against the far railing. The damage he had caused was a mere flesh wound – if even that. A layer of scales was missing from atop the maw of the leviathan, but no blood was shed. It was a discoloration at most. One that would recover once the next layer of scales matured and filled in. Viyas scrambled up from the deck, almost slipping from the weight he put on his crippled arm. He grimaced and shifted to his right side, then got up and stumbled into the cabin and out of sight. The last thing he heard before slamming the door was a hiss and a series of clicks from the serpent – a sound that would forever haunt his dreams. He needed to recover and heal before anything worse could happen. He needed to get back into perfect form...because, perhaps for the first time in his life…he was afraid.

♢♢♢

Milo got up stiffly from his seated position. He was sore but otherwise unharmed. Much more important was the wellbeing of his new friend. Immediately he ran over to check on Naia.

A fifteen foot splotch of white marred the area from the serpent’s nose to forehead like a horse’s blaze. The blemish made stark contrast to the perfect uniformity of the rest of the creature. The outer layer of scales were frayed on the edges and the inner layer revealed in the gap looked sensitive and soft. Milo reached out his hand.

“Are you okay?”

Naia glided over to the boat’s ledge once more. This time, without a certain pest waiting in the wings to disturb their meeting, it was able to observe the strange creature in front of it. A human that was Balanced. An oddity to eclipse all oddities in this world. It flicked its tongue out and licked Milo’s face. The smell of ocean breeze lingered in the air.

Milo laughed and rubbed its nose. “I guess that’s a yes. I’m glad that you’re not hurt.”

Surprisingly, the serpent found itself unbothered by his touch. Unbothered, even, by the serpentskin covering the boy’s body. Its instincts were telling it that this child would bring no harm. Its Sight confirmed it to be true. The child bore favour from great creatures of the land and the skies. Such things did not come lightly, nor did they come without reason. This was a human who was fully a part of their world – entrenched in the ways of whimsy. How strange. Its tongue flicked again.

“Do you want me to help take off the broken scales? It looks uncomfortable.” Milo pointed to his own forehead and traced an outline of the damage on Naia’s with both fingers.

The serpent bowed its head down onto the railing and rested its nose on the deck near Milo. With a slight lurch, the boat started leaning to that side. Three silent spectators found holds to brace themselves with. A muffled expletive came from inside the cabin.

With permission granted, Milo started to climb onto Naia’s head. The gaps between the scales provided easy handholds for him to scale his way up to the top of his new friend. He felt a flow of running water each time his fingers found purchase in the carved lines like dipping his fingertips into a creek. The flowing blue embroidery outlining the scales, Milo realized, came from the passing of a constant stream of ocean water. He had seen the collection of tiny markings on each scale working together to push the water up against the world’s downward pull. But feeling the flow first hand was something else. It made the entire thing feel more grounded in reality and he was even more awed by the perfection of nature’s design.

Milo climbed over one final serpentine rung and finally reached the top of Naia’s snout. After a moment to sit and catch his breath, he started clearing off the fraying scales along the edges of the wound. The scales were slippery but the runes along their edges gave him something to hold on to. Boy and serpent worked together to clear the damage. One by one the surrounding healthy scales lifted up to release their hold on the broken ones while Milo wiggled them free with both hands. He figured that removing the tattered bits of damage would be like pruning a very big serpent tree. Something about allowing new growth to come in quicker when the old stuff was removed. He didn’t know if serpents were anything like trees, but they were probably close enough to fish. The same principles should apply. In any case, he mostly just wanted to help his handless fishsnake friend with something that they couldn’t do themselves. A simple way of giving thanks for being saved.

As he carefully worked his way across the serpent’s head – making sure to not touch the exposed white underscales – Milo suddenly felt his stomach swirl. The scenery blurred into motion. Naia had silently lifted off the deck and returned to its position high above the waters. Looking down, Milo saw the small boat floating atop small waves and three small concerned people looking up at them. He waved. Then went back to plucking scales from his lofty new vantage.

♢♢♢

On the deck, Nahla approached the railing and closed her eyes. She felt the link between herself and Naia and wanted to express gratitude. The guilt wracking her mind needed an outlet. As a result of her actions – as a result of the compromise that she had struck just minutes before the attack, the serpent – no, Naia – had gotten injured. If it wasn’t for her imposing such a limit, none of this would have happened. Nahla focused her Gift and sent an offer of compensation.

Hiss.

♢♢♢

Milo felt a shudder ripple from the head of the serpent that shook him from head to toe. The sound of its displeasure ran through his body like a shock.

“What’s wrong, Naia?” he asked.

The serpent, for obvious serpentine reasons, didn’t reply.

Milo looked down to the boat again and saw Senan approach a worried Nahla. From his serpent’s-eye view, he couldn’t hear anything or figure out what went wrong.

♢♢♢

Senan put a hand on Nahla’s shoulder. She was visibly shaken by the hostility and backlash that she had just received. She turned her head to the scholar. “I don’t understand. What did I do wrong? I thought that ‘in nature and whimsy, all debts must be paid.’”

He nodded and adopted the airs of an imperial lecturer.

“Certainly they do,” Senan stroked his beard. “But the price has already been paid. Though you might be under burden of guilt for what has transpired, it would be an offense to make change to a contract in effect. You must resolve to simply bear the gratitude in your heart and repay it in another way, later, should you so desire.” He waved his hand in an elegant arc. “Between the two of you there already exists a temporary state of Balance. You need not do anything for Balance to be maintained. To withhold bears the same sin as excess. Simply accept Balance for what it is. An equal exchange. Nothing more. Nothing less.” The scholar lowered his voice. “And certainly do not renege on what has already been established or the results will be as you have just witnessed.”

Nahla let the advice sink in. This was something that she had yet to experience. She’d never had a reason to feel guilty until now – hadn’t felt the need to offer anything beyond initial agreement before. Something about this trip and the company within it had been fostering nothing but the unexpected. She couldn’t have anticipated a single thing that had happened since she arrived. Especially not the harming of a tamed creature directly because of her will. She bowed to the serpent. “Apologies…Naia. I wished to offer gratitude, but it seems that it was not needed. I’ll bear this in mind should you wish to work together in the future.”

The serpent’s tongue flicked out in response but it remained otherwise motionless while the boy atop its head continued to work away.

Pluck. Pluck. Pluck