Chapter 1.

"Listen, little ones." King Kramer laughed as the guppies swimming around him giggled loudly at one another. "Our story is very important and is worth your while!"

A red scaled male folded his tiny arms across his pale, narrow little chest and proceeded to float upside down. "We don't care if there aren't any sharks!"

At this, the two females gasped and disappeared in a flash to hide behind the King's magnificent, though greying, mane. Sparing them an amused glance, the King wagged his finger at the little male. "Sharks are not fairy stories, or indeed very funny. You shouldn't joke about that or you might very well meet one and believe me when I say you would be barely a snack to a Great White."

"Or a Megalodon..." Came a little voice from behind the King and it was echoed swiftly afterwards by another tiny voice.

"Or indeed a Megalodon." Agreed the King, as the two females peeked out from behind Him, "Though even I would be barely a snack to him."

In the doorway of the throne room, in which this informal storytelling affair was taking place, a dark blue tailed myrman of middling size and considerable influence scoffed. He wore the regimental shell pauldron depicting him as a member of the Imperial Guard on his left shoulder and a scrap of white material floated serenely from under it, covering his arm entirely. His tail had a similar shape to that of a Moray - highly unusual among his people, though not unheard of to be sure - with two delicate looking fins running the length of it, front and back. He looked on the scene with a sense of nostalgia, though his eyes were grey and placid under the mop of brown hair he grew on his head. It was cropped short in the Guard fashion, though the fringe he preferred to leave long. He had that right, as an officer.

Of course, the story the King was attempting to tell the youngest of the school was the tale of how he had led the greater bulk of their people across the Pacific Ocean when disease had threatened to wipe them out. It was not so long ago and their population was still recovering only slowly, but the Myr could live for a very long time so they were in no danger of becoming extinct before they could replenish their numbers. Feeling no need to hear the story again (he could vividly remember his awe and rapture at the story as a guppy and there was no need to repeat the emotion) the Imperial Guard turned away from the doorway and moved off down the corridor, to the lower passages of the citadel.
In the throne room, the King had decided to begin his lesson, regardless of whether or not his charges were listening. As with every group, they would settle down once the tale had captured their attention.
"Nearly 200 years ago," He began, "We lived in the cold waters of the Antarctic Ocean. You youngsters have never known truly cold water, but if you ever think you have found it, believe me when I say that the Antarctic Ocean is colder still than that. We had a quiet life, glamorous and serene. Atlantis was, at that time made of ice and it hung upside down from an Iceberg, like seaweed hangs from a cave.

"We lived that way for more than five thousand years, happy, but alas, as with all things, our good fortune was to come to an end. One fell winter the females began to fall sick with something out of the common way. We had no way of curing it. We had no knowledge of what it was. Little black dots appeared first on the scales and grew and grew until they fell off and we bled. Hundreds fell sick and though they pleaded with me to find a solution, try as I might I could not save them. Bodies littered our home in such a number that we could not stay there any longer.

"At first we thought it would be sufficient enough to move to a new home, elsewhere in the Antarctic, but when we began the construction of our new home, the workers fell sick and those tending to them too. The black spots were appearing faster and faster and it appeared we would all be wiped out and die. We were left with little choice but to leave those waters far far behind and seek new life elsewhere."

By now the guppies had gathered together in front of the King and were exchanging miserable looks, as though they themselves had the disease, or had been told they must leave their homes behind and travel hundreds of miles across the ocean.

"Gathering what little we could to sustain us for the journey, those who were well enough set out with myself as their leader. In a great school of over a thousand strong, we swam along the surface for much of the journey. It was dangerous to be sure because whales gather there to breathe, and fish gather to feed on the algae that needs the sunlight to survive and with so much prey to be had at the surface, what do you think lingered there?"

"Sharks..." Murmured the guppies in unison, all of them quiet and a few clung to one another in well-founded fear.

"Yes little ones. Sharks are our most hated enemy, beside Man, and where there are either there is sorrow in no small amount..."

000

The giant conch shell that served as New Atlantis was alive with panic. The crown princess's new guppy was missing and the fear now was that he had managed somehow to slip past the guards and escaped into the open ocean. If that were the case he was surely lost as the current would have whisked him away faster than one could blink and he would never be found again, unless by a shark, or a jellyfish, or similar. With this in mind a search was now on and the surrounding ocean was being scoured at breakneck pace. There were plenty of places on a reef such as this that a curious youngster could hide in or explore and the female currently poking around in a collection of giant clams tried to keep that in mind as she kept a very weak grasp of her own hysteria. The clams slammed themselves shut as she dug around them, hoping she would not put her hand into the jaws of anything big or poisonous, but she found nothing worthy of either fear or relief. That is to say, no guppy.
The account that the flustered princess had given was that she and the guppy had been playing hide and seek as they often did - it was the little prince's favourite game - but when it came time to look for him she couldn't find him. Involving the guards and the handmaidens proved fruitless and it was then that the panic had really begun. High and low Atlantis had been searched but the empty-handed Myr had to realise the fear that he had in fact left the safety of the citadel behind and was somewhere out on the reef.
The searching female was becoming increasingly hysterical and frantic in her search, for not far away, a few hundred meters only, there lay The Drop. A trench of no mean size, its gaping abyss yawned cold, dark and foreboding. The Myr had never explored it, but those who were foolish enough or daring enough to brave its open mouth had never returned. The imaginations of the Myr ran wild with the horrifying sea creatures that must lurk in The Drop and which picked off unsuspecting people with impunity. Sharks? Giant jellyfish? Giant octopi or squid? They knew not what and it terrified them in its anonymity... If the young prince had made it this far on the current, which was itself a long way from the citadel (now a hazy shadow in the distance) then he would surely have disappeared into The Drop and if that were indeed the case... Well...

As she sought among the coral and the sponges, and peered among the anemone and the clams and little feathery somethings a shadow fell over her. An ultrasonic shriek of fear sprung from her lips as she whirled around to face the creature, the predator, her doom, but it died quickly as it became abundantly clear that the shadow did not in fact belong to her doom, as far as she could tell.

The male who faced her looked amused, as the scream faded away around them and she had the good humour enough to look a little ashamed of herself. The warning cry was extremely loud and would no doubt have alerted every Myr on the reef to her 'peril'. Once this momentary feeling of embarrassment had passed, she noticed he had in his hand, hanging quite happily by the tail, the missing prince.

The male held him up to her, "I believe this is yours."

Eyes wide, she took the Prince gently from him and cradled him against her chest, staring down at him in amazement as he cuddled into her. She was at a loss as to what to say, so stared first at the shivering babe and then at the Myr who had rescued him. He was not someone she had ever seen before and she was certain that she would remember him if she had, for he was of a variety of Myr that simply did not exist on the reef save for one, who had died a long while ago before she was born, but of whom great stories were still told. He was well tanned with fair, golden hair, muscled and lean looking, his chest criss-crossed with scars and a few minor abrasions which looked, to her eye, to be relatively new. All this aside it was his tail that caught her attention the most. He had the blackest scales of any thing, Myr, or fish, that she had ever laid eyes upon and they shimmered with a pearlescent gleam. Like the Captain of the guard, his fins ran along the front and back of it, though they were larger and were supported by spines the length of her forearm. The membrane between them was the same shade of phosphorescent green as his eyes, which surveyed her in much the same appreciative manner that she looked at him. Similar, smaller fins lay at intervals along his tail and fluttered gently to keep him still where he was. This was a tail which implied speed. Speed was not something they often needed on the reef, so protected was Atlantis where it lay among the kelp and seaweed. She could only surmise that he was not from around here.

"I take it you're from the shell?" He questioned. She nodded.

"Atlantis."

He huffed in amusement and cocked an eyebrow, "Yes, Atlantis. You're a long way from home then."

She was sorely tempted to quip that so must he be, but kept herself in check. It was not, after all, confirmed that he was indeed a long way from home and any speculation on the subject might cause undue offence to someone who should rightly be considered the hero of that particular hour. She cleared her throat and stroked the guppy's fair hair. "Might I ask where you found him?"

"The trench." Came the reply and to her horror he flashed her a grin. A sudden uneasy feeling swept over her and the water around them seemed to chill. Perhaps this man was not such a hero as she had thought. She looked unhappily in the direction she knew The Drop to lie, the hazy obscurity in the distance, where all her wildest nightmares seemed to take fruit. "You're very brave to have come this far." He probed and swam a lazy circle around her, the predatory smile barely concealed behind his lips.

"I was searching for-" She paused, "...This guppy." Introducing him as 'my liege' would raise some unwanted questions. If it came to a fight for the possession of the young prince she would undoubtedly lose. She would never be able to outrun him and those spines looked lethal.

"He's not yours." It was a statement made with the utmost certainty.

"No, he is not, but that doesn't mean he isn't important."

"Indeed, he must be very important indeed for you to venture so far from the shell, alone."

"I don't catch your meaning." She said, bluntly. If at first he had awed her, he was beginning now to annoy her. The transitioning feeling of fear was still there, but overlaid by irritation.

He ceased his circling of her and held up his hands at her tone, "I meant no offence, just that you are very brave. The trench is home to a lot of things. You would not stand a chance."

She tilted her head. Though he was correct, she disliked the implication that she couldn't handle herself. She cocked an eyebrow at him, "You seemed to survive."

He flashed her another grin, "I was talking about me."

The nervous feeling filled her again and the water's chill returned. The prince mewled against her collarbone, reminding her that she should return him to his mother with all haste and she stroked his head comfortingly. "Well," She said, dipping her head in as polite a gesture as she could manage with the little prince pulling on the hair that floated down around her shoulders. "I should return to the city. Thank you for your help in finding him."

"You're welcome," He said with a polite bow and then, much to her surprise he said, "I will make sure you reach it safely."

"No it's alright," She hurried to throw him off, beginning to back away in the general direction of the citadel, "I'm sure we'll be-"

"Please," He insisted, moving to follow her, holding out one arm to stop any escape to the side and indicating with his other hand that she should go ahead, "I meant it when I said that the reef is not a safe place to be alone."

"I know that, but I'm sure we'll be fine now, it's not that far away."

"There is a storm coming in, it would be against my morals to allow you to go alone. I honestly insist."

She doubted, privately that there was anything honest about him and made a mental note to consult the King on anything involving this Myr at the soonest opportunity she had. She had to admit though, as they began their journey back to the hulking shadow of the conch shell in the distance, the mysterious Myr swimming just above her, that she felt safer with an extra pair of eyes to look out for danger but kept her guard up nonetheless. In fact, she was paying much more attention to him than to her surroundings and noticed, to her internal shame, that she had completely neglected to scour the area ahead of her until they were within sight of a small guard school which was swimming straight towards them. Relief flooded her system and she allowed herself to relent her breakneck pace to a more comfortable speed.
What had seemed unreasonably fast to her barely seemed more than 'brisk' to her new companion, but when she slowed he stopped entirely and caught her arm. She turned wide-eyed to face him, but before she could speak, he cut in. "This is where I leave you, do not mention where I found him." He spared a glance at the approaching school. "Good luck."

With that, he took off, the force of his bow wave buffeting her to the side. A shout from one of the guards drew her attention for a mere second and by the time she looked back around for the mysterious merman, he had disappeared completely into the gloom.

000

The Crown Princess and the little prince were overjoyed to be reunited, Atlantis breathed a collective sigh of relief and the King had personally requested her presence to thank her for returning his grandson to him, but still a feeling of unease hung over her. As the guard were escorting her back from the reef to the citadel she had considered their features and build. They were all of them lithe and fit, but none had the muscular bulk the nameless Myr possessed and although they were fast, none of them were built for speed, for the most part their fins were small and their tails compact. They possessed good stamina and what speed they had was gotten through rigorous training. The warmer waters of the Southern Pacific Coast had encouraged a softening of the scales and bones of the fins so that true athleticism was reserved almost exclusively for the upper orders, where selective breeding had ensured the partial maintenance of the Myr's historic hardiness.

Her own mother had been a product of that selective breeding, born into the upper orders to a pair of second generation Myr, but her father had been a guard, young, but up and coming. Unfortunately they had disappeared into The Drop when she was young, like so many others. She was a Myr born of love and so she possessed little real athletic ability. Her tail was almost pigment less, the pigment of the scales being related to the food the Myr ate and she herself being a rather picky eater as a guppy, but it was touched with enough pink to identify her as being red in blood and her fins were long enough to identify her heritage as being that of elevated rank. Because of her colour and the wide, decorative shape of her fins when she was younger she had been teased by the other guppies that she was a Reef Myr, and not a true, Antarctic Myr at all. They called her Goldfish and Clownfish after the reef fish she resembled and bullied her relentlessly. It had all subsided now, but thanks to those experiences she had always paid attention to the defining features of her tail and those of other Myr.

Now, entering the King's throne chamber the main question on her mind concerned the handsome, terrifying, but altogether intriguing Myr who had found her on the edge of the reef.

King Kramer beckoned her in with a bright smile, his arms thrown wide. "Quistis! The siren of the hour!"

Quistis drifted in slowly. Though she had been in many times for lessons when she was younger, that had not been for some time and she was nervous. The Crown Princess and the little prince were cuddling happily on a small thrown beside the King's and Quistis bowed her head to them when they looked up.

"Come in further," the King urged, waving her over and continuing when she got close enough, "Tell us what happened; where you found him."

"He was hiding among some giant clams," She lied, "Out on the reef."

"Thank you for finding him," Said the Crown Princess, looking down at Quistis from her throne with emotional eyes, "I don't know what I would have done..." She petered off, voice cracking, and squeezed her babe a little tighter.

"Thank you, Your Grace," Quistis said softly. She had never thought much of having a guppy herself - they were small and delicate and produced in her the sort of blood curdling fear normally reserved for sharks or octopi - but the sight of the mother and babe reunited after such a harrowing morning made her feel relief and compassion for the Crown Princess's emotionally fragile condition. "But it was not I who found him."

"Then who?" Probed the King.

"A Myr," Quistis replied, remembering his words and wondering how much she should tell them. But he hadn't said not to tell them about him, and she owed him none of her allegiance, so she explained. "He had a long black tail with green fins, green eyes and golden hair. I don't think I've ever seen him before. He was scarred and aggressive, he almost looked like the Myr from the legends. He found him and brought him to me on the reef, then swam with me to the guards."

The King frowned, adopting a troubled expression. Quistis watched him hopefully. Since meeting the mysterious Myr near The Drop she had been searching her memory for all the tales she had been told as a youngster, tales about their history, where they came from, what happened when they arrived here. Legend told that they were lead here by the King Kramer after the Great Sickness, but that a fearsome warrior - more fearsome than even the King himself - had protected them on their journey and had been a boon to their survival when they arrived in this place. He had garnered peace and trust among the reef dwellers whose short life spans and fragile builds made them nervous and flighty. The tales they were told as guppies said that this warrior had brought their two peoples - the timid, careful reef Myr, and the rough, cold Antarctic Myr - together under the same ruler, King Kramer himself. There was evidently some degree of truth to all of this because the tales of their people's emigration were vouched for many of the 1st generation who still remembered how they had come to this place, and not every tale featured the fearsome and mysterious warrior, their guardian. But sentiments about the warrior differed. Some of the 1st generation felt very strongly that he was not to be given as much credit as he frequently was, but the majority of them felt sorrow for him. He had always been portrayed as a lonely figure, a silent guardian, a watchful figure in the dark. When she was younger she certainly always felt a twinge of sadness listening to his stories, but the King had always told them with gusto and pride and seemed for all the ocean to hold him in the highest regard.

After some time, King Kramer spoke, his voice was stern and his words carefully measured. "Quistis, the Myr you met is not one of us. You are not to speak of him again, or tell anyone that it was he who found the Prince. From now on, it is you who found him. That Myr does not exist." He narrowed his eyes at her surprised expression. "You are not to go looking for him, you are not to see him again, you do understand?"

"I understand your instructions..." She said slowly, "But I don't understand 'why'. He rescued the Prince, he escorted me back to the guards, he deserves to be thanked at least."

The King shook his head, silvery mane fanning out around him with the movement. "No, Quistis. That Myr deserves to be ignored or forgotten. He is a dangerous relic from darker times and he does not deserve your thanks. You honour him enough simply to dwell on his existence."

Quistis frowned, but nodded her understanding.

000

The old King, Arthred, was dying. At over 2000 years old his age was finally catching up to him. All Myr of the line of Geldis were blessed with preternatural life, but it did not last forever. He, and every last one of his features, had turned an ethereal white, signalling to him that his time was coming to an end. His rule had been peaceful and prosperous and his people had thrived under his benevolent care. But now that his time was up, the lives of his people were destined to be plunged into a terrible chaos called 'war'. As it had become clear to his would-be-successors that he was growing weak and would soon perish, the tranquillity of his kingdom had been cracked by the poison of greed. Two factions had arisen from the murky depths to challenge each other for the right to his throne. They were lead by two Myr who he appreciated equally, but whose characters differed greatly from each other and neither of whom he felt appreciated truly what was required of them to rule. On one side was the cunning and wily Norg. His supporters were only few, but they were a collection of useful assets who made Norg into a formidable presence on the council and in the waters. His supporters were made up of capable warriors, guileful strategists and politicians, and the sorceress Adel. The other faction was decidedly larger but less ruthless. It was lead by a Myr who was currently floating to attention at Arthred's back as the king stared out of the window of his chambers to the inky black of the ocean night beyond; Cid Kramer.

Cid was a good Myr, kind and strong with an open heart and a good ear. He listened, he offered advice freely to his friends and comrades, and he cared deeply about the results. But there were times when he was foolish, or impassioned about something which clouded his judgement. Neither Norg nor Cid were ready to rule, but Arthred had no time, so had called them both to him to impart some wisdom which he hoped would mould them into the leaders his people needed, not the rulers they had had in the past. That only Cid had come when called said a lot.

"Are you ready?" He asked the young Myr behind him.

"I think so." Came the reply.

Arthred smiled, "Good, I'm glad to hear it - we have no time to waste." He turned and gave Cid a watery smile. "I think you will do well." Cid bowed his head in thanks for the praise. "But I have a question for you." King Arthred narrowed his eyes at his young successor, "When you have claimed my throne and trident, and proclaimed yourself the King of Atlantis and successor to the line of Geldis; how will you treat those who meant to defy you?"

Cid blinked. "You mean Norg?"

"Among others, yes. He will not be the last to try to unseat you and you owe it to those you've sworn to protect to keep a tight grip on that throne."

"I... Don't really know," Said Cid, then he frowned, "I am meant to answer this question now? He has done nothing to me yet, nor to those I would seek to protect by my ascension." He thought a second and said, "I would treat them all as well as they deserve."

Arthred nodded. He supposed that was the right answer, for anyone else. But as too often was the case- "What people deserve for their actions often depends entirely on the person condemning them as crimes. You who are not a king, who does not wield the power of the seas as a weapon simply by right of being ruler of them-" he indicated his trident, held aloft by a pinnacle of ice which rose from the chamber bottom like an arm and fist, the weight of which Arthred himself had long since given up wielding, "May say today that you would not treat them any less well than they deserve, but power does terrible things to a creature. Our people have suffered under moronic leaders before, drunk from the power that the sea bestows. To those Myr slicing off the heads of their enemies even if only to keep their followers at bay would not have seemed an unjust punishment, and certainly no less than their enemies deserved. But power breeds cruelty and misjudgement."

Arthred turned his gaze back to the young Cid Kramer who drifted before him, his own eyes still glued to the thorny burs that adorned the tines of the trident, Arthred's words bringing a disquieting malfeasance to their aspect. "Tomorrow," Arthred spoke again, quietly. "When I am passed, you will be crowned King. This Kingdom will be plunged into discord and you will have to fight your brothers and sisters to restore order to our people. When it is over, I ask that you grant them your forgiveness and treat them with mercy." Cid's eyes glimmered with an indecipherable expression as the old king bequeathed his advice, "Forgiveness is a frightening prospect to have to bestow because you might never know if you were right, but the alternative is to cast eternal damnation upon your fellows, and when taking someone's life - conscience makes a cruel companion."

The next morning, King Arthred was proclaimed dead and Atlantis was thrust into anarchy.

000

King Kramer had awoken from a troubled sleep. The parting words of his King had long given him food for thought throughout the years and he cast his mind back to the old King frequently in times of trouble. Few alive today remembered the days of Arthred KinBringer, but King Kramer looked to him for advice even now. The old King had ruled effortlessly over a docile people for centuries, but that did not mean that his rule had not had its face share of disquiet and the times when Arthred had called Cid to him had proven themselves to be invaluable.

Unable to stay in his bed after the previous day's excitement had brought news of the past returning, King Kramer now sat by the window of his bed chambers, looking out across the sea in the same way that Arthred had done on his last day all those years ago, the dim lights cast by the coral around him casting blue and green across his figure. The current King thought absently that this must have been what the old King had felt, knowing that something was coming to his people and feeling powerless to stop its arrival. Granted, the War of Succession had been far more ominous and sinister than the potential return of an old acquaintance, but the element of unknowing made King Kramer very nervous.

He thought back on Arthred's words. "I ask that you grant them forgiveness... you may never know if you were right..."

'Forgiveness' eh? As a King, he had tried to be forgiving. He had been very forgiving. He had forgiven everything that there was for him to forgive and if the choice were up to him, he would never have had to banish the younger Myr 200 years ago. But at that time it had not been up to him. He had not had a choice. The Reef Myr were baying for blood to avenge their fallen comrade, regardless of the circumstances of his death and 'forgiveness' did not frequent their vocabulary. Unwilling to spill the blood of his favoured warrior himself, banishment was the only option left for the King, so he had taken it without hesitation.

If the past had returned now, and from Quistis' description King Kramer had no doubt in his mind that it had, then perhaps... Perhaps, since the wounds inflicted at that time had healed, and they had finally earnt the trust and respect of the Reef... It had come time for them to 'forgive' as well...

000

Quistis was similarly unable to sleep. She had tossed and turned all night, head swimming with thoughts of the mysterious Myr out on the reef and the conversation in the throne room. She had so many questions, but something about the way the King had spoken made her too afraid to ask. His tone had been defensive, clearly communicating that this was a topic ne'er to be broached. But why?

The more that Quistis thought, the more confused she became. If the Myr on the reef had indeed been the Myr of legends then why had the King reacted with unease? King Kramer was meant to be the Myr's biggest advocate - he told tales of his deeds and exploits with such enthusiasm, a twinkle in his eye and huge hand gestures, waving his arms around in the more dramatic scenes, adopting sorrowful expressions when trouble or danger was near... When Quistis had been young and gathered with the other guppies to listen to these stories (they had been called lessons, but she hardly thought of them that way when she was little) she had dismissed them as just that - stories. Why else would the King have been so pleased to recount them and play to the crowd's reactions? If they were real...

Quistis' favourite was the story of how the Myr had rescued their pod during their migration from the Antarctic to the Reef. The pod was travelling close to the surface for food and to allow the current to hasten their way, allowing themselves a brief respite. The King had however not allowed himself to rest, keeping an eye on his pod for any potential dangers. They had rested for quite some time, but eventually, as had ever seemed the case in these tales, danger found them again to put a stop on their dormancy. A Great White shark, drawn by the prey at the surface of the ocean, was sighted. Almost instantly the scent of the exhausted Myr caught his attention and the hunt began. King Kramer had gathered his pod quickly and spurred them into action, but the Great White was not as slow as it was stupid, and the Myr were flagging in energy. The shark was closing the gap on the terrified pod. They were hopeless to escape their fates. Then, one of the Myr bravely turned around to face the charging monster. He had a jet black tail and a crown of gold on his head, but he was not the King. The story told how he had stopped the shark mid-charge, had wrapped it up in his tail to still any thrashing and, as the terrified pod looked on in horror, had sunk with the monster into the deep while it struggled and drowned.

The tale had ended there, with the brave warrior sinking to his assumed doom. But he appeared in later tales as well, showing the migrating Myr to the reef and brokering a peace with its hostile inhabitants. He had reportedly helped to build New Atlantis, had saved the King from certain death and secured an everlasting alliance between the reef dwellers and the migrating Myr, so he could not have perished with the Shark, though that is how the tale was told.

The potential for the tales to be true had never seemed particularly convincing to Quistis in the past. It all seemed too good to be true, some gallant hero leading them from rags to riches but declining to take any rewards for his efforts, simply fading into the blue once their people were assuredly safe and sound? Unconvincing.

And now, the King who had previously been perfectly happy to waffle on about their people's illustrious past and associated guardian spirit ad nauseum, was reluctant to even entertain the possibility that there was such a hero lurking out there in the blue. It didn't make sense.

The only sense that Quistis could make of it was that the tales themselves must have contained an element of truth to set the scene (they had definitely emigrated from the north and had definitely joined with the reef Myr 200 years ago) but that the rest of it must have been a cover up. The King's words had played on her mind all night, stealing sleep and nice things away from her to be replaced by doubt and shadows in the night; "A dangerous relic from a darker time." He had to know who the Myr was and there had to be a very good reason why she wasn't allowed to see him again.

The coral fingers and glowing sponges which illuminated the citadel in the night had begun to dull down, leaving New Atlantis as a dusky, shadow-y smear, signalling to its inhabitants that it was time to awaken and start the day. Reluctantly, Quistis slid from her bed and over to the door to the dressing area that was shared by the ladies in waiting of the Princess. There were only 4 of them, but they were more than enough to tend to the every need of the Crown Princess and her new babe. The Queen, gentle Edea, had her own ladies.

When Quistis emerged into the dressing area she was alone, but as the morning made itself more at home on the ocean, her fellow ladies began to appear and they helped each other with their hair and make-up amid laughter and the usual conversations about how handsome the guards were and how a number of them had begun to take note of how soft and shiny the girls' hair looked and how Jessie, a blue finned Myr with long light brown hair pulled into a loose plait by her friends and peppered with little flowers and shells, was absolutely sure that one of them was going to ask for her hand soon.

Quistis participated lightly in the conversation, never having found any of the guards to be to her fancy (save the dashing Captain Leonhart), and instead gave her attention to decorating her companions' hair. When they were all suitable made up they made their way to the Crown Princess' chamber to help her prepare for the day. The Crown Princess was as miserable this morning as she was any other morning. Part of the job of being a lady in waiting was to cheer the Crown Princess up on her darkest days. Her husband, a reef Myr who had risen through the ranks of the guard until he had been granted the privilege of guarding the King's own chamber and had thence met and fallen in love with the Princess, had disappeared some seasons ago and had left her with only their babe to serve as a reminder of their love. His loss pained the Princess keenly and every morning was a struggle. Generally speaking Myr could fall in love a hundred times, but they only shared their blood once. Now that the Crown Princess had her guppy there would be no other males for her. The future and fate of their Kingdom fell upon the tiny babe lying in the bed beside the lethargic Princess, one dark green tail fin, the colour a mark of his heritage, stuffed into his mouth by a chubby pink fist.

Quistis picked him up and cradled him while his mother had her hair and make-up done and her attire picked out for her by the ladies in waiting. He was only a few seasons old and had had no chance to meet his father. It was a shame, but somehow Quistis envied him. She remembered her own parents, but not so much the softness of their touch or the shape of their smiles, only the sorrow at their passing.

When the Crown Princess was ready she, the little Prince and the ladies in waiting went to the nursery to play with the Prince in a safe and guarded environment. There the ladies would practice music and jewellery making, they would sing, dance and gossip about the guards again and keep a very careful eye on their precious bouncing future as he coerced them all into playing hide and seek, King of the Reef and other childish games. Quistis usually used this time to play her harp and think of new songs to sing. She was not overly enamoured with guppies so wasn't one for playing games and she only had her sights on one particular guard, who was inevitably busy in the Throne Room and nowhere near the nursery, so she could only listen to the conversations of the day. But today she could not even do that. Her mind had wandered back to the mysterious Myr on the reef and she was trying to think of some reason to go to look for him despite the King's strict instructions. When the ladies announced with dismay that they had run out of shells and pretty stones to make into jewellery Quistis fair leapt at the opportunity it presented.

"I can go and get some more." She said, setting down her neglected harp and picking up the finely woven net which had held the last load of shells and stones. She shook the last remaining items from it with ill disguised impatience. "I don't mind if you don't." She said to the Princess, who looked apologetic that Quistis had to leave, but grateful for the offer.

"Please," She said, "would you also mind finding something for us to eat from the galley? I'm beginning to feel a little hungry."

"Not at all, Your Grace," Quistis said, dipping her head in respect, "I will have something sent immediately." Then she was gone, out from the nursery, over the edge of the balcony that adorned the doorway and down through the centre of the spiralling shell to the bottom where the galley was located. she quickly bustled about gathering items and putting them all together into an array fit for a Princess's eyes to see. She ordered one of the galley workers, Zell, to take it to the nursery before hurrying out again and making for the citadel exit, the mouth of the shell which they called home. It lay on the bottom of the ocean, the gigantic shell lodged into the ocean floor so that now only the top rim of the shell's mouth was separate from the sand. It made a long shallow arch through which the city traffic came and went and was guarded at all times against predators and lest anyone attempt to leave at night. The citadel's arms were open to any passers by and they welcomed the fish who drifted serenely in and out, cleaning the waters of any impurities, but it was forbidden to leave the citadel at night. Even the fish appeared less inclined to come and go in the dark, who knew just what was waiting for them beyond the safety of the shell's mouth?

Quistis swam through with a brief nod to the guards and then made off in the direction of The Drop. She had no intentions of reaching it, but if that was the last place she had met the Myr, then it was as good a direction as any to start looking for him. She picked her way through the coral towers and the rocky archways that littered the reef, picking up any nice looking shells and pebbles she found along the way, but mostly devoting her attention to scouring the horizon. It wasn't a bad idea even she hadn't been actively looking for someone, you never knew when something bad was going to happen and the first rule of life outside of the shell was to keep ones wits about them. To her immense disappointment her net was damn near full and she had still not seen any further signs of the Myr she was looking for. She debated going closer to The Drop. It was terrifying, made her blood run cold in her veins and conjured up all manner of horrifying visages. Quistis shuddered. She was armed only with a small knife designed for popping open clam shells to search for pearls. It would serve her no good in a battle against a shark or a squid...

Nevertheless, her curiosity won the day and she approached The Drop as quickly as she dared, looking this way and that for any movement and straining her ears for any noise, fluctuations in the direction of the current, the temperature, anything at all that might suggest something was amiss. But for all her caution, as she approached The Drop she failed to notice the figure hanging in the water above her, so far away as to appear a speck, no more than a shadow, but watching her with interest as she timidly searched along the edges of The Drop. She never once ventured into its maw.

Eventually, her courage all but exhausted, she decided to call it a day and give her frayed nerves a rest. She turned tail and fled back to the safety of the citadel, leaving the curious shadow to ponder in her wake.

000

In the throne room, King Kramer suddenly got a terrible feeling, as though the water around the shell had suddenly changed direction, or at though a shadow had fallen over them all. It could only mean one thing. Rising slowly from his seat, the King calmly made his way to the nursery room when his daughter and her handmaidens would doubtless be playing with the Prince. He was looking for Quistis, though he didn't expect to find her. He expected that she had disobeyed him and gone out to search for the Myr she had met the other day. If this was indeed the case and she was missing, then he would have to contain his rage until she returned, when he could unleash it in a fiery rage about the importance of listening to her elders, obeying his orders as a King and not going out to look for perhaps the most dangerous creature she was likely to find in her lifetime.

To say he was surprised to find Quistis perched on a sponge, plucking half-heartedly at a harp and watching her friends making jewellery around a half-eaten platter of snacks and goodies, was putting it lightly. He was gobsmacked. Quistis had always been a bright girl, loyal and obedient. But she was also extraordinarily curious and had a near unquenchable thirst for knowledge and new things. King Kramer was absolutely positive that the lure of an unknown Myr possible tied to legend and a living piece of history itself would be too much for the girl to pass up. But there she was, sat on her sponge, twanging a miserable tune with the face of a pufferfish.

On his entrance all 4 ladies in waiting and the Crown Princess rose from their seats and bowed low. "Your Grace," Spoke the Princess, grabbing the Prince as he toddled past and holding him to her, "It is a pleasure to see you as always."

"Indeed," King Kramer smiled, putting his surprise at Quistis' inaction aside for humility. "I am glad to see that the Prince looks well and you are all safe."

Three of the ladies and the Princess nodded their heads in gratitude for his concern, Quistis was a little slower than the others. In fact, she appeared to have paled. The King raised an eyebrow, but gave nothing away. He would have to talk to her later though, but not necessarily now.

The King made small conversation with the ladies and had a cuddle with his grandson, then decided that it was time for grub and disappeared to the dining hall where the evening meal was no doubt being laid out.

A/N:

A new one, I know. I haven't finished my old stories (for shame) but this one last been floating about in my head for a long time, I decided that it had to be put onto paper and thrust below your unwilling noses.

More will be coming, I just haven't yet worked out how the rest of the plot will proceed (if indeed there is a plot at all and this isn't all just a nice fairy story about turning Seifer into some perfect fishy boyfriend...).

If you have any theories please let me know, I'm happy to attempt to adopt any plot lines I feel would enrich this fiction, otherwise, I will see yous in a tick!

-Lapin