“That was cruel,” Not-A-Knight ground his teeth so hard that it was audible in the still of night.

“It was necessary,” Gu said.

“You could have been gentler.”

“I could have.”

“What did such a cruel method achieve that kindness would not have?” Leather strained as Not-A-Knight gripped both fists.

“It taught him respect for the water.”

“There are ways other than fear, sir, to impart lessons of import.”

“Indeed.”

Milo stoked the campfire on the ground and waited for the strife hanging in the air to burn itself out. He added a few more pieces of horse cart for good measure.

“It’s all in the past now. Shall we continue?” the storyteller asked.

“Yes!” Young Lady, who had been quiet as a mouse during this whole exchange, immediately peeped in.

“En.” – “Please do.”

He looked around and, seeing that everyone’s attention had regathered, continued the tale.

“Right after carrying Young Milo inside and settling him onto the couch, Gu brought the table over and left a warm meal and cup of tea for the hurting child…”

—

The steam from the dishes was enticing – fragrant and spiced – but Milo didn’t seem to notice. The food sat there and the tea cooled, both completely untouched while the boy stared blankly in silence. It had been hours, and Milo had yet to move an inch. His eyes remained fixed on a single spot on the floor, barely even blinking. Consumed by thoughts, he replayed the events of the day over and over in his head, trying to piece together any sense of what had gone wrong.

‘Does Uncle Gu not want me any more? Is that why he threw me into the water? Then why did he look so sad, like he was about to cry when he did. He waited so long to save me that I almost drowned, but he did save me in the end. Why hasn’t he said anything yet? Am I really just like a stray cat to him? So if he carries me home and leaves me food, then I’ll come back and be happy again? I don’t understand. Is it because I swam too slow to get to the boat? Is it because I complained about it being unfair? Is it because I warmed up with the feather without asking permission? Is it because I said the water was beautiful? He seemed proud that I got onto the boat. But then he jumped directly onto it from the shore. Was that to show me that I’m nothing and that I’ll always be nothing? But he was patient and always made sure I could handle the tasks he gave me. He always encouraged me, so why would he want me to feel worthless? Why did he throw me away? I couldn’t handle it. I wasn’t ready. Why did it have to be so quick? Is this more than just a task? Does he want to throw me away for real? Not just into the water, but out of the house, too? Did I do something wrong? Did I overstay my welcome? Was he mad that I shook his arm? Was I too excited? Was I supposed to die there so that he wouldn’t have to worry about me coming back again? So why did he save me? Change of heart? I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I like Gu. I like it here. I don’t want to leave. Am I going to be abandoned by my first home? It hurts more than anything they did to me in the palace. Please don’t throw me away. Please say something. Make it all better. Say it was an accident. Say it was a joke. Just don’t say you don’t want me any more. Please. It hurts. Please don’t leave. Please let me fix it. Please–‘

“Milo.”

Gu broke the hours of silence with a single word. The frightened child felt the cushion dip from the extra guest that joined him on the other end of the couch. He sat completely still, hoping that his thoughts wouldn’t come true – that if he didn’t reply, he could delay the inevitable.

‘Oh no. Here it comes. “I don’t want you.” “Please leave.” “I hate you.” “You’re worthless.” “Get out.” “You’ve disgraced me.” “Cursed child.” “Abomination.” “Failure.” Which one will it be? How will he get rid of me? Please be kind. Don’t hurt me. I’m sorry. I’ll leave in peace, just please don’t–’

“I’m sorry,” Gu said.

“...”

The silence stretched long.

“I…” Gu swallowed. “I wanted you to know the other face of water. The danger, not just the beauty.”

“...”

“I thought you should feel it once before we sailed...the dangers of the ocean. How fast beauty can turn lethal. The helplessness. The boundless depths. The fear.”

“...” Milo shied away and nestled even deeper into his corner of the couch.

“But I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

“...”

“I didn’t want you to be naive, but I should have taught you. Properly taught you. I’m sorry.”

“...”

Milo sat, and watched, and waited, until the fireplace burned down to simmering black and red embers. Gu, wordless, stayed beside the boy and gave him all the space in the world to respond. Or not. The choice was his.

Tick. Tick. The branch of a small shrub by the window punctuated the silence.

Finally, Milo spoke. It shattered the heart of the man beside him.

“I wonder what this uncle thinks of me. He plies a child with comfort, meal, and tea. But then upon completion of the task, ruthless, violent, shredding of that mask.”

Gu’s face crumpled, “The Noble Tongue–”

“So what am I to you? I ask you please. A burden? Trouble? Mischief? Plague? Disease? I’ve heard it all before so please don’t lie, I’d sooner leave in peace than foul your eye.”

“Milo–”

“Dearest Gu who warned the boy of ocean’s perils, thrills, and joys, why do you sit just like a stone? Does coldness seep throughout your bones? You look upset, but WHAT OF ME? The one who spoke so full of glee of ocean dreams and sea’s delight, you took from me and stole that light.”

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

“Please, Milo–”

“I want to leave. I want to stay. I don’t know why, my thoughts are frayed. My heart is bleeding, tell me please, does being here remove the ease and comfort of your life before? With me around – this boy abhorred by everyone he’s ever met, whose whole existence marks regret – has life turned hard? Am I a threat? A burden? Someone laced with debt? I only sought a place to stay, a house, a meal, some games to play. But never in my life thus far has someone come to heal this scar until you took me in and said, this home is yours. Our humble stead.”

“...” Tears filled Gu’s eyes.

“But now I see that dreams too big, like putting makeup on a pig, will never change the truth beneath: that I am hated, best deceased. So why did you, then, change your heart? With idle hands I would depart this world in peace, and rightly so, from water’s cold and steady flow.”

Gu choked back something between a gasp and a sob. He slowly gathered up all the pieces of himself and put them back together, hoping it would hold long enough to respond. The boy, meanwhile, stared unblinking at the fireplace. The coals were steadily darkening, shedding only the faintest light on two broken, fading silhouettes.

“I’m sorry. I’ve hurt you so much…made you bury yourself in this armour…made you treat me like a stranger. It’s all my fault. Let me explain everything.”

“...”

Gu took a deep breath and falteringly said, “Sorry I don’t speak the Noble Tongue. Didn’t mean to make you doubt our bond. Never will I break our link apart. If you listen, I’ll explain it all.”

“The way you speak is like a fledgling child – searching, reaching, grasping, savage, wild. It’s plain to me that you were never trained. Tell me all the things I need explained,” Milo spat out.

“Can we stop this and return to Common?”

“If the answers soothe my mind, I’ll turn the favour round in kind. For now, I’ll treat you like the rest, like strangers, heart kept locked abreast. I loved you once, and still I do, you calloused, grumpy, uncle Gu. So tell me something. Solve it all, so that my tears will stop their fall,” the boy buried his face.

Gu felt his heart being gripped by the piercing claws of grief. Tearing, twisting, prodding at the ball of raw emotions that tormented the man inside. He took a deep breath and tried to make things right.

“...Let’s start from the roots,” Gu began. “Sugarfey. Do you know what it means?”

“...”

“Xwíc̓m is the ancestral word for gift, donation.”

“Hweetsum?”

“En. And sxʷiʔmixʷ is the word for the obligation given in return.”

“Weet’mee. Weet’meesh. Weet’meeh,” Milo imitated under his breath.

“Sxʷiʔmixʷ,” Gu repeated.

Milo tried it a few more times, then hid back into the feather and resumed his fireplace vigil.

“The First Peoples of the land once lived and traded with the fey as equals. At that time, they learned the word but could not speak it. They shortened–”

“How did the people learn it? The fey don’t speak.” Milo interrupted.

“The fey did speak,” Gu said grimly. “But that was long ago. A story for another time.”

“...” the boy retreated once more.

“They made sxʷiʔmixʷ easier to say. It became sweet’meeh. Then it became sweetfey, after the ones who cherished it most. After thousands of years, it turned into…” Gu trailed off.

“Sugarfey,” Milo whispered.

“Sugarfey,” Gu nodded.

“But that still doesn’t explain anything.”

“The name sxʷiʔmixʷ is explanation. It is gift. Obligation. A promise that must be held. A wish in return for a life that was saved. The feywild will honour this debt to the grave. The value of a sugarfey is the value of a life. Your life. When you offered the sugarfey to the water spiri–”

“Little Spirit.”

“When you offered the sugarfey to Little Spirit, she could not accept it. She helped you, but it was not worth your life,” Gu explained. “The Queen of the Northern For–”

“Birdmom.”

“...”

“...” the boy coughed and hid behind his feather blanket.

“The Queen of the Northern Forest could have given you a sugarfey if she had one. Your favour was worth enough. Instead, she gave you what you needed and added her most valuable possession. This balanced the debt.”

“Oh,” Milo said, rubbing his face against the comfortable plume.

“There are other ways to use sugarfey,” Gu continued. “Ancient tales said that eating one on the verge of death could grant new life.”

“Is that why it’s worth a life?”

“Don’t know. Never tried. Maybe they’ve lost this power with time. Maybe it only works with fey. Rather not test it.”

“...” Milo shuffled awkwardly.

“What?”

“...I’ve eaten three of them.”

“You already mentioned that. Back when I taught you the plants,” Gu brushed it off.

“I didn’t know they were special, just sweet.”

“I know,” Gu said. “If you had, then we would never be connected.”

“...What?” Milo looked shaken.

“The last use of sugarfey is the Rite of Binding,” the man explained. “You offered me your life for free, and I accepted. I offered you mine in return. The exchange of sugarfey without debt makes you Bound. Our fates are linked for a lifetime.”

“...So that means…”

“It means that this is your home. It will always be your home. And I will always be with you. We are Bound forever.”

The bundle of feathers shook uncontrollably as the doubts and insecurities that swirled like icy currents inside the boy’s mind started to flood out in waves. He sobbed and sobbed and sobbed until the wells ran dry and the fire blinked out. Under the veil of moonlight, Gu leaned over and wrapped his arms around the trembling cocoon.

“I’m–sorry for–disappointing you,” Milo whispered between sobs.

“You did no such thing.”

“I failed–so many–times–to–get–on the–boat.”

“It was cold. It was hard. You pushed through. I was proud of you,” Gu rubbed the top of the bundle.

“–Don’t have–a–Gift. I’m–weak. A–failure.”

“That only makes it more impressive, not less. You’ve done your best and made it this far.”

“I–thought you–threw–me–away.”

Gu closed his eyes with pain, “That will never happen.”

“So–can I–stay–here?”

“Forever.”

“Forever?”

“En.”

“Okay.”

The boy, hidden beneath layer upon layer of impregnable feathery protection, finally relaxed and stopped shaking. He was out of tears and out of energy. The moment the tension left his body, he slumped against the arms that held him and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. Gu sat there for the entire night holding the wrapped-up bundle.

“I’m sorry for hurting you. I’ll never do anything like that again.”

“En,” Milo mumbled in his sleep.