At the edge of the world, beneath a great wall of coral that stretched from the bottom of the ocean to the surface above, Xet, the prince and heir of Merilevä, faced his fiercest foe yet. He glared, unblinking, frozen, at a moray eel. They had a staring contest going on, and Xet was winning.

But alas victory was not his destiny, for a familiar scent approached and his attention was broken. In a tense moment, Xet blinked, but the eel didn’t. It was over for the young prince. Xet afforded a final look at his opponent and found the unblinking eyes of the moray gloating with its decisive victory.

“Since you skipped class again, I hope you at least won this time,” a familiar voice said. It was Xet’s older sister, princess Arrat. She floated behind him, cerulean and golden with her spring colours.

“I was winning until you came along,” Xet said, pretending to sound defeated. “What brings the good princess to the edges of the world?” A smile was already growing on his face.

“You. Missing class. Again.”

“Did they teach anything interesting?”

“Today was about the creation of the Coral Border,” she motioned to the wall of coral before them, “which I thought you of all people would enjoy learning about.”

“Not interested, no. Mostly on the learning part, since I’ve done it already.”

“Uhum…” Arrat said, swimming around Xet with a disbelieving look. “I am sure you can tell me all about the wyverns–”

“First Word Treaty after their hundred-year isolation, and the assistance provided in rebuilding the Coral Border,” Xet interrupted.

“Common knowledge. Why don’t you tell me why the wyvern’s assistance was needed?” Arrat gloated.

“The crack in the Border was large enough that it changed the sedimentary routes, leading to weakening coral and more cracks,” Xet said as he twisted his body around its own axis. “The wyvern’s enchantments stabilised the currents and affixed the nutrients to help the coral regrow — with the help of our most skilled coral artisans and natural philosophers, of course.”

Defeated, Arrat’s frills hung limp, swaying in the gentle currents.

“Sister, if I lie to you, it won’t be about knowing history. It’s going to be about something cool and rebellious, like not knowing history.”

Arrat held a stern look, keener on maintaining her annoyed demeanour than enjoying Xet’s jokes. But the prince would have none of it, he had already lost one battle today. “Come along if you really want to learn something new,” he said, offering a hand.

“Xet, now is not the time. You are in enough trouble as is and—”

“Boring.” He said, his sister’s arm and swam up and along the unending wall of coral as quickly as his fins would allow. Arrat was surprised but did not resist; She allowed herself to be dragged along.

The crystalline water and sunny day provided a clear view of the Coral Border, brimming with vibrant fish that hid and scattered as the seawyrms swam past. Xet and Arrat breached at high sea. There was no land in view, only the swaying ocean and the jagged edges of spear coral. These sharp protrusions were found all throughout the top of the Border, from horizon to horizon. Coloured in faint pinks and browns, they pierced the surface, forming an impenetrable fence. They denied passage to all but the most adventurous of birds, and offered no respite to the daring; the edges were so sharp they could slice through talons even if one were to perch softly.

Yet, as Xet was pointing out to his sister, there was a fault. A row of broken spear corals; a hole in the wall. But even the lapse of security was not without its risks. Baby spear corals already populated the bottom of the crossing with their obsidian-sharp barbed ends. Gorgonians grew between the spears, framing the hole, warning any passerby with vibrant reds and blues that they were not to be touched. The passage was a semi-circle shaped death trap of several wyrm-lengths, but still wide enough for cautious traversal.

“Instead of just learning, why don’t we discover something, sister? I believe we would be the first ones to cross to the other side in at least two centuries,” Xet was giddy, staring at darkness on the other side of the hole.

“Xet, I’m your older sister but you do not have to assassinate me for the throne,” Arrat answered.

“Arraaaat!” Xet said, his chest rumbling as he sang his sister’s name. “As if I’d work that hard for something as boring as being the heir — which I already am, and why I don’t work hard.”

“Just making sure in case you missed that class too,” Arrat said, both curiosity and anxiety flared in her stiff frills as she gazed into the waters beyond the Border.

“You coming or…” Xet insisted.

“Do you know about the last person who crossed the border?” Arrat lectured.

“Of course! Mareen the Brave! Lots of stories about that albatross’ adventures.”

“Mareen the Brave was his name before he tried to cross the Coral Border. After he did, he became Mareen the Suicidal. He never returned if that wasn’t clear.”

“Lots of things eat birds,” Xet argued.

“Lots of things eat us!” The topmost frill on Arrat’s head was wiggling with indignance.

“Never stopped us from poking sharks.”

“That’s… different. It’s a known danger. We don’t know what will prey on us on the other side,” Arrat said, carefully studying the edges of the hole.

“Unknown dangers are the best. If you don’t know what to fear, you can’t be scared of it! Besides, I’ve been to Wyrmroost and survived, so I have plenty of experience with unknown dangers.”

“First of all, that makes no sense. Second, your Wyrmroost story changes every time you tell it—” She interrupted herself, Xet’s face told her that the conversation was going exactly where he wanted: nowhere. “No, Xet. Mareen was an experienced adventurer and could fly.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Sounds like he should have tried swimming. We are yet to rule that out as effective.”

Arrat’s frills opened and closed in an exercise to relax herself (to a seawyrm it was the equivalent of taking a deep breath). “Xet,” she said with newfound composure, “you are the heir to our kingdom — the only male heir. You cannot rule the kingdom if you are dead.”

“That’s a point in favour of dying, yes. Maybe you can be the Queen instead.”

“A female wyrm cannot rule Merilevä. It has been so for thousands of years. I am as frustrated as you that duties, responsibilities, and restrictions have been placed on us since before we were born, but that is the way of our life—our duty. We must abide by our customs and laws and serve our people righteously…” Arrat noticed something was off, Xet hadn’t interrupted her yet.

“Last chance or I’m hoarding all the fun,” Xet said from the other side of the hole, only his head visible.

“Xet! When did— You get back here this instant or—” Interrupted again.

“Oh no!” Xet said, pointing at something beyond Arrat’s sight. “Horrible monsters from beyond the veil of sanity have come for the last male heir! If only a brave princess could save my life and avoid the collapse of our entire kingdom!” He mimicked groans and choking, then sank away.

Arrat called for Xet once, twice, and received no answer. After some consideration, she caved and headed for the passage. With an initial strong wiggle of her tail, she floated into it, carefully paddling her legs to adjust course. She needed to take great care not to move too much while swimming, lest she would bump against the gorgonians. Concentration was the key and—

Xet’s head popped back into view. “Sis! Careful with the gorgonians! Don’t wiggle too much or—”

“I know, Xet.”

“Just making sure you don’t touch them, or your body will spasm into the baby spear coral below and you’ll skewer yourself uncontrollably until your guts spill from your scales.”

“Thank you for the clear picture, Xet.”

“You’re welcome. Just stay calm and don’t think about the horrible agony you will endure for hours — maybe days — as you rake against the tiny blades, bleed out and die.”

With a judging, somewhat smug expression, Arrat cleared the passage and twirled next to Xet. “I know you were just messing with me. The worst those gorgonians will do is zap me a little, yes?”

“Oh no, those will definitely kill you. I would never recover from the trauma of seeing my sister die in such a horrible way. Also, it would be annoying to explain to mom and dad,” Xet said rather casually. His sister was at loss for words. “Anyway, we’re so cool! Look where we are! Beyond the Coral Border! Uncharted waters!”

Both seawyrms absorbed the environment around them. The barrier was drab with greys and whites on this side. There were no colourful fish to be seen. In fact, they could not see a single living thing on this side of the Border. It was like all the colour and sound of the world had sunk into the unending darkness below.

“Huh… I pictured more incomprehensible horrors,” Xet said, mildly disappointed. “Maybe Mareen died of boredom.”

“Alright, Xet, we did your thing. I must admit it’s kind of exciting breaking some rules. But can we go back now? Evidently there isn’t much here.”

“Wow what’s THAT!?” Xet pointed at a bright shimmer far below them. Before Arrat could answer, Xet was already swimming toward it. She followed a few undulations of his tail behind.

Light drained from the world as they descended in search of the shimmer. Darkness engulfed the world; all around them was nothing but an inky, uniform blackness. Pressure built in both the seawyrms’ lungs, and they expelled whatever air was left in their bodies. Xet persisted until he saw the flash of light again, this time much closer. He approached it slowly and finally sighted an angler fish. It was no bigger than a seawyrm’s head, mouth agape and swimming slowly. The eery light of the esca poured Xet’s face; it was the only visible thing in the world at that moment.

Xet stared at the angler. The angler stared at Xet. It was a competition.

“Xet wait up!” Arrat said, breaking Xet’s concentration. The angler won.

“Twice today you ruin my staring contests!” Xet said with genuine frustration.

Arrat was about to respond something about anglers having no eyelids, but she too began to stare into the fish’s eyes. Its dead, expressionless face sent shivers down her spine. Then, in the darkness, the face began to morph into something malicious. It was angry with the two interlopers. The small fish would not be intimidated by the larger creatures intruding in the sanctity of the abyssopelagic zone. It conveyed its message of danger. Whether threat or warning, neither wyrm could say.

Then the esca’s light went out and the world was once again dark. The siblings could not see each other, but they felt the other’s presence thanks to their delicate whiskers picking up the vibrations in the water. The angler was gone; they could no longer sense it. Everything was quiet, even Xet. Arrat approached her brother for comfort and suddenly went stiff.

“Xet?” Arrat said from nearby. “Xet, I think we should go.” Her hand reached for her brother’s shoulder and directed his eyes to the darkness below.

Something else shimmered beneath them. It was a point of light that, unlike the angler, had no clear position. It came from an unfathomable depth, as if a star had been hidden beneath the ocean; a distance so vast the mind could only comprehend as infinite. But it knew the seawyrms were there; the point of light was staring, watching. It scintillated in response to their presence and threatened to, at any moment, cross the boundless distance and claim the siblings. The darkness contorted and pulsed, black over black in twisting forms that could not be. At the center of it all was the point looking back at the two frozen wyrms. Unblinking, approaching from its place in infinity.

This was not a staring contest Xet wanted to participate in. He grabbed his sister’s hand once more and swam as fast as he could to the passage in the Coral Border. He allowed his sister to go first and then, without looking back, hurried on through. As he crossed to the other side, his tail touched one the gorgonians and he felt a faint, harmless zap.

The two siblings continued to swim away from the hole, affording only a single look to make sure whatever entity they had discovered did not cross the threshold of the Border. To their relief, all seemed to be in place.

When they finally stopped, exhausted, fins and tails flowing along the currents, Xet spoke. “Was it my imagination or…”

“No. It wasn’t. I saw it too,” Arrat said.

“Uhum…” Xet paused to think. “Do we… warn someone?”

“Isn’t this exactly what EVERYONE warned you about, Xet? The stories about what is on the other side, the horrible mysteries that should not be? I think a mystery just unveiled itself to us and we did the wise thing and ran. All we have to do is tell someone about the hole so it can be filled.”

“What about the angler?” Xet considered.

“What about it?”

“I don’t know, I feel like it won. I don’t like that; it was getting smug.”

Arrat did dignify that with a response. She got closer to her brother and wrapped her tail around his affectionately. Xet, too, was happy to be in her company, safe and sound.

“Xet, can you just promise me one thing?” Arrat said. “Never send anyone in there as a prank.”

Xet chuckled. “I don’t think sending someone to be consumed by such forces would be very amusing,” Arrat looked happy, but he continued, “mostly because I couldn’t see anything. Next time we’re taking some lights.”

“NEXT TIME!?” Arrat tightened her tail around Xet’s so hard he yelped.

“Fine, fine! No next time! I’ll even report the fault myself!” Arrat finally let go. “Ouch…” He wiggled his tail to make sure it still worked. “Just… tomorrow. We’ve done enough for one day, yes? And I still have a scolding scheduled for the evening and reading material I must feed to the fish on accident.”

“Xet, I’m happy you are fine, but be more careful in the future. You aren’t just important as an heir,” she said, offering a comforting smile.

“Being heir is the only thing about me that isn’t important. Oh! Good reminder, I have to continue insisting to mom and dad that you are the better heir. Today is a good day to prove my incompetence,” he said. “As an heir,” he added.

Arrat sighed with frustration, but Xet could tell she knew it was true and, most of all, that she wanted the title. “You may do as you like.”

“I always do.”