—

“And with that, the two companions were finally on the same page, and the bond between them was finally made clear,” Milo concluded.

Not-A-Knight leaned back and gave Gu’s bedroll a light kick.

“You’re still a bastard,” he said.

“En,” Gu agreed.

“But you meant well and you made amends. No further complaints do I have on this matter.”

“En.”

The stifling atmosphere around the campfire lightened up. Everyone breathed easier now that the emotional precipice in the story (and outside it) had been crossed.

Milo gathered everyone’s attention and continued, “With all the damage mended, it was time for young Milo to complete the third task and learn to swim. Properly, this time.”

—

Half a month went past in a blur as Milo and Gu settled into a training routine. Twice a day – once in the morning and once at noon – the pair swam around the eddy and practiced the essential skills for surviving at sea. At night they tied knots by the fire and studied the myriad plants and creatures of the ocean. Progress was slowgoing at first, but as the boy grew more accustomed to the cold, and started to build confidence in his technique and breath, the fears of the past were soon all but washed away.

Milo leapt over the railing and dove off the back of the boat. With a tidy splash, he plunged into the river’s depths and floated there beneath the surface, watching the plants sway and the fish dart around. Char. Cutthroat trout. Longfin smelt. Milo tried to name everything he recognized.

Taking in the sights of this vibrant underwater world had become one of his favourite pastimes. Something about the way life interacted in this watery realm just captured the boy's heart. It was both slow and drifting, yet fast and relentless; calm and peaceful, yet harsh and unforgiving. The contradictions of water swirled around each other, cycling in perpetual flow like the lives of the plants and the animals and the currents within.

Feeling his breath start to strain, Milo swam beneath the boat and popped up beside the rope ladder. He climbed up to the deck and wrapped himself with the opalescent feather waiting for him.

“Good work,” Gu said. “We’ll call the third task done. Come back inside. I have something for you.”

Milo was wary, “What is it? A fourth task?”

“No. A gift,” Gu replied and jumped from the boat. With two large bounds off the mooring lines he landed on the riverbank. After a brief look back to the boy on the boat, he walked into the house.

With a sigh, Milo climbed down the ladder and slowly swam to shore.

♢♢♢

“So what’s this about a gift?” Milo asked as he walked through the door.

Gu was sitting at the table with a bundle of cloth in front of him. It was wrapped haphazardly, a last minute afterthought to keep the present a surprise.

“For you,” Gu said, pointing at the gift.

Milo pushed on the bundle and turned it over in his hands, trying to figure out what it might be. Soft. Slightly squishy. Folded into a square?

“What’s the reason? I thought going on the boat was already the reward. Is this an extra reward for finishing all the tasks?” he mused and took a seat at the table. As far as the boy was concerned, finally having a second chair in their home was already the greatest gift of all. He couldn't think of anything else he needed.

“Something like that.”

“Hmmm…” Milo started to think, then gave up. He knew that Gu would eventually give the answer when he felt like it.

Drip. Drip. The clothes drying by the fireplace marked the passing of each second spent waiting.

“Do you know what the moon is tonight?” Gu finally asked.

“It's a…full moon?” the boy ventured.

“En. The first moon of winter.”

“Oh,” Milo’s eyes dulled a bit. “Right.”

Gu handed over the bundle of cloth, “For your birthday.”

“En,” Milo smiled. “What is it?”

“Clothes.”

"What kind of clothes?"

"Open it."

"Okay," Milo said. Realizing that questions would, as usual, get him nowhere, he unwrapped the bundle and laid the clothes out on the table.

Identical patterns of grey-green scales weaved serpentine spirals through the entirety of the two-piece outfit lying spread across the table. The pattern tessellated infinitely, with no beginning and no end. Milo ran his hands over the tunic and trousers, and was immediately struck by the soft, rubbery texture. The boy was no stranger to all manners of fabric from both within and without the land – far from it. His past training made sure of that. And yet despite it all, the gift on the table was unlike anything he had ever seen. It was as if this fabric blended all the essential qualities of leather, silk, and wool – strong enough to stop a blade, but soft enough to wear with comfort.

“Try it on,” Gu nudged.

Milo nodded and started to put on the trousers. As soon as he pulled the waistband open, the fabric gave way without even the slightest hint of resistance, stretching far wider and far easier than the boy thought possible. Surprised by the unexpected give, he fell off balance and dropped the trousers onto the floor.

“Uh. It’s very stretchy,” Milo laughed and picked the trousers back up.

“En.”

Trying again with a gentler approach, Milo managed to part the waistband and get both his legs in without issue. The material easily stretched and accommodated for wear. He pulled the trousers up fully and found that, although the length was perfect, the waist ran surprisingly high – all the way to his ribs.

“Try the top. It’ll make sense,” Gu said after noticing his baffled look.

“Okay.”

The boy grabbed the tunic and, having just learned his lesson, parted the opening just enough to fit his arms and head through. The fit was much snugger than he was used to – not an inch of slack to be found anywhere from belly to sleeve. And, unlike a standard tunic, the collar wrapped all the way around his neck in an unbroken tube instead of parting down to the chest for ease of wear. It was very different from anything Milo had worn before. Still, even with how foreign the design, the outfit was surprisingly comfortable.

“Now tuck the two flaps in.”

The extra material from the tunic and high-waisted trousers sat in a bunched-up mess after Milo put on both pieces. After receiving Gu’s reminder, he evened out the waistband then tucked the bottom of the tunic into the little opening that he found near the top of the trousers. Once everything seemed to be in order, Milo patted himself down and was amazed at how the two pieces merged together. With the top and bottom tucked into each other, the two-piece outfit appeared to be a single garment. Even though he was the one who just fit them together, Milo found no trace of the seam that should have marked the division between the two halves; the scale patterns linked up perfectly, leaving no hints behind.

Shocked, he felt around for the seam and untucked the tunic. Once he did, the illusion was broken. When he put everything back into place for a second time, and a third, the outfit returned to a continuous, unified whole.

“Wow,” Milo sighed. “Where did you get this? How did you make this? Where did it come from?”

“Like it?” Gu asked.

Milo nodded three times, “Yes, it’s the best!”

“There’s more. Come outside,” Gu said and left the cabin. “Bring the feather.”

The boy quickly scrambled to get himself ready, then picked up the feather and ran outside to where Gu stood by the riverbank.

“Get in the water,” Gu said the moment Milo arrived.

“Huh?”

“Go.”

Milo took off his shoes and grumbled, “This is a terrible surprise.”

“Just go.”

“En,” Milo left his shoes on the rocks, handed the feather to Gu, and dragged his feet over to the river like a prisoner, head drooped low.

He looked back and hoped that pardon would come–

Gu nodded towards the river. Go on.

–it didn’t.

With a sigh, Milo ran and jumped into the eddy as per usual. He closed his eyes, expecting to be graced by the freezing cold and flash of white that he was, fortunately or not, starting to get accustomed to. He waited for the moment to hit. And waited. And waited. And it was…fine?

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

He opened his eyes and saw that he was in the water. Surrounded by water. Submerged to the neck in water. But he wasn’t cold? His hands and feet were a bit chilly, but the entire rest of his body was just as warm as they were moments ago. Curious, the boy dove beneath the surface and submerged his head.

Cold.

White.

Cough.

Milo immediately resurfaced and started coughing out the lungful of regrets that he just gifted to himself. For some reason, he was expecting that to go differently. In hindsight, it was obvious to him that the new clothes he was wearing only extended their protection to the parts that they covered. Now that he knew what to expect, Milo happily swam around and enjoyed the (mostly) cold-free experience. After he had his fill, the boy returned to shore.

“These clothes are really really great! I barely even felt the cold!”

“Is that so?” Gu eyed the boy’s dripping wet hair.

Milo coughed, “En. Mostly.”

“Good. There’s more.”

“?” Milo looked up at his guardian expectantly.

“It doesn’t keep you warm, just dry,” Gu explained.

Milo stuck a hand into his sleeve and confirmed that he was dry beneath the tunic.

“Oh. You’re right.”

“En. But there’s a spot to keep the feather,” Gu said and pointed to Milo’s midriff. “Pocket in the bottom flap.”

After fiddling around with the clothes for a bit, Milo eventually managed to separate both halves. He checked the waistband of the trousers. Dead center and a few inches below his belly button, there was a little quill-sized pocket where his feather could be slotted.

“It’s late now. Next time try wearing the feather first, then the top after,” Gu said.

“Can I try now?” the boy bounced up and down.

Gu grunted, “As you like.”

Like a whirlwind of excitement, Milo tore his tunic off, wrapped himself with Birdmom’s feather of pure coziness, secured the quill into the pocket, and then put the top back on. He took a moment to adjust both flaps of the outfit back into their seamless fit, then ran into the water again for another test.

It was perfectly warm. Except for his head.

♢♢♢

"Thank you, thank you, thank you. These clothes are amazing! What are they even made of? I've never seen anything like them. Where did you get them from? How does it work? Why does it keep the water out?" Milo rained down question after question as he and Gu walked back to the cabin. The boy was still warm even after his impromptu evening swim in the middle of winter. Seemingly, this effect transferred to his enthusiasm.

"Serpent skin," Gu replied.

"Serpent? Like from the sea, that kind of serpent? How did you get its skin? How big was it when you fished it out? Did you make it into clothes by yourself? Or who made them?"

"Boy, one at a time."

"Milo."

"Milo. One question, one answer," Gu said and opened the cabin door.

They walked inside and settled into the living room again. The cloth wrap that initially shrouded the present was left lying in a sprawl on the table. Milo grabbed it and tossed it onto the couch.

"..." Gu looked at the boy.

"..." the boy looked at the ground.

"I'm going to make tea."

"En. Me too, please," Milo said and shuffled over to the couch to fold up the cloth that he just unceremoniously tossed aside.

♢♢♢

Tea served and space tidied, the pair sat down to finish their conversation.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Milo's leg beat a steady rhythm on the ground while Gu drank his tea, unhurried.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Siiiiiiip.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Gu pinched his nose and sighed at the boy who was alternating between shaking his leg and sipping his tea as loudly as possible. The man placed his cup on the table.

"Okay, ask. One question."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Milo gushed. "How does it keep the water out?”

“I don’t know. Ask the serpent.”

“...” the boy looked over with a flat expression. “How do I do that?”

“Carefully?”

“...” Milo pulled an arm halfway out of his tunic and turned the sleeve into a makeshift serpent puppet. “Serpent, how do you stay dry in the water?”

“I don’t know. I’m dead. Ask Gu,” squawked the sleeve-puppet, mouth flapping open at random.

Gu chuckled, “I really don’t know. Most skin is waterproof. Serpent skin stretches more than most. Probably better at covering seams.”

“Okay,” Milo nodded and proceeded onto the next question. “Did you make it yourself?”

“No. A friend did.”

“You have friends?”

“A few.”

“Are the friends coming on the boat?”

“Two.”

“How about the one that made the clothes?”

“No. Their kid is.”

“Do you have serpent clothes of your own?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Absolutely why not?”

“They’d eat me if I fell in the water.”

“...” Milo looked at his interrogation subject blankly. “What?”

Gu looked away, “You’ll probably be fine.”

“Probably?”

“Probably.”

“...”

“Serpents are normally aggressive and territorial. They’re also smart enough to sense when an enemy is in their waters.”

“So you’re their enemy?”

“Everyone is an enemy to the serpents. You’ll probably be fine, though.”

“...” Milo had no response.

“If serpents went around attacking every creature at sea, there’d be no fish left. They only attack people, food, and enemies.”

Milo didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, “...Am I not a people?”

“No. Not really. In a good way,” Gu added.

“...”

“Most beasts and fey have a natural sense of the Balance in the world. People are Unbalanced. That marks them as foreign. Dangerous. Untrustworthy.”

“Are you Unbalanced?”

“En.”

“And me?”

“No. You have no debts. As far as monsters are concerned, that makes you trustable.”

“Okay. But how does that let me swim without being eaten?”

“If I wore serpentskin, they would assume I killed one of them for it. That makes me an enemy.”

“But didn’t you kill one of them for it?”

“Not the point.”

“...”

“But you’re Balanced, like one of them. If you wore their skin, the serpents would assume it to be fair and granted. They would treat you as their own, or as a fish. Either way, probably safe.”

“Why am I a fish?” Milo complained.

“Would you rather be a fish or be eaten?”

“I’ll be a fish.”

“...” Gu was dumbfounded by the immediate reply.

“What if you fell in the water without wearing any serpent bits?” Milo asked.

“They’d attack if it was convenient.”

“And if you were wearing it?”

“Charge over and attack like I killed their family.”

“But didn’t you kill their family?”

“Not the point.”

“...” Milo was left speechless once again.

Gu drank his tea, frowned, and put it back down. The questions went longer than he expected, turning the tea into a lukewarm vestige of its former self. He was tempted to go to the kitchen to brew another pot, or to at least reheat his currently undrinkable cup.

“Any other questions?” he asked.

“Two hundred.”

“Pick your favourite.”

“Hmm…” Milo thought about what his final question should be.

“...” Gu picked up his tea out of reflex and just barely managed to stop himself before taking another sip of cold, liquid disappointment. Meanwhile, the cogs in Milo’s head were frantically turning, trying to decide on the best question to ask.

He finally settled on something.

“How can you tell when something is Balanced or not?”

“Intuition or training,” Gu said. “Ever felt that somebody was good at first sight? Or that you should avoid someone even though they seem nice?”

“Uh huh,” Milo nodded.

“That’s your intuition of Balance. Feeling how much debt a soul is burdened with. Doesn’t mean someone is good or bad. But it’s a clue.”

“You said you’re Unbalanced but I liked you right away.”

“I’ve mostly paid my dues.”

“Oh,” Milo paused to think. “Does that mean monsters will like you?”

“En. They tolerate me.”

Milo beamed, “That’s good! They’re very nice, so it would be sad if they didn’t like you.”

“It’s good that you’re tied to their world. Most people don’t care and can’t feel the Balance.”

“That’s sad.”

“En,” Gu nodded. “That’s why monsters hate people, and people hate monsters.”

“Is it really so hard to be Balanced? It would be better if everyone could get along like me and all my friends in the forest.”

“Impossible for most people.”

“Didn’t you say it could be trained?” Milo asked.

“En. But only when taught by an expert. And only if you’re Balanced, or close to it.”

“Oh. Can you teach me?”

“No.”

“...Oh.”

“After we return from the sea I’ll bring you to a teacher.”

“Okay!” Milo smiled happily.

With the question-answer session drawing to a close, Gu got up and brought their cups to the kitchen where the next pot of tea was starting to brew. He topped up his cold drink with hot water and took a sip. It would do. He finished off the salvaged remains and filled the cups with new tea once it was ready.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Gu returned to the living room and placed the freshly steaming cups down on the table.

“What is it now?” he asked, looking at the fidgety child.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

“Um…” Milo started.

“What?”

Thump. Thump.

“Thanks,” Milo said with a quiet smile.

“En,” Gu nodded.

“This was the first time I’ve gotten a gift for my birthday. I think this might be the best birthday I’ve had.”

“En. It’s nothing,” Gu looked away. “Get some rest. People will be arriving in the next few days.”

“For the boat?”

“For the boat.”