XZOLTANA (QUEEN) SYREINYA methodically massaged her temple, as she glided swiftly about. Her champagne-tinted tail fin glistened brilliantly in the semidarkness of the waters, as it caught the rays gleaming from the ocean's surface high above. Through a light vent the radiance entered her bed chamber, bathing her skin in a twilight glow. There, she paced nervously, albeit in mermaid fashion, all the while glancing down every few minutes at her bracelet of translucent coral and silver-studded pearl.

Habitually, she would trace its lines and edges with her long, delicate fingers. Her touch had a sort of unsteadiness, as if waiting expectantly for something to happen. To her right, Syreinya could see the full extent of her kingdom through the large, beautiful, arched windows made of tessellating crystals. Aedynyet , as it was called, was not a large country compare to say Lemuria nor nearly as advanced as Atlantis, but for what it did not lack made all others envious. For Aedynyet had the peace, prosperity and tranquility, and other such lofty virtues, the likes of which others nations have fought for centuries. Now, Aedynyet's history was a long and proud one, as Syreinya knew, but, sometimes, she wished she did not. See, the young sovereign was not entirely happy in her role. Although she loved her kingdom and people dearly, she disliked her title and the duties demanded of her station.

Suddenly, Syreinya's bracelet began to radiate a brilliant blue, inciting from her an audible sigh of relief. This ornament, which twisted in spirals around her slender wrist, was an ever ready means of urgent communication. Blue was suggestive of the absence of danger, or success in an endeavor, and, on this particular occasion, riders had returned with the necessary provisions from the outlands.

Aedynyet, as a nation, was one of peace, a haven, if you will, but not wholly self-sufficient, as no nation truly ever is. Outside its borders, there was a country as treacherous as it was mysterious. It was darkened with black dust from the seabed and full of jagged mountains. Not to mention, it was the hunting grounds to all manner of frightful creatures.

Nevertheless, it afforded protection for the interior country. The denizens of Aedynyet contented themselves to live within the confines of a massive crater at the ocean's floor. The average Aedynyite never ventured to cross the curricular ridge, and only the bravest souls ever made the journey back.

Syreinya laid back, wedged in a horseshoe-shaped bed, her silvery hair fell in ringlets, and her traesole* glowed in the dimness. She looked beautifully regal in form, but her somber eyes clouded in absence of tears and shown more uneasy still.

* NOTE: Traesole: An embroidered mermaid gown that tapers down to one side terminating in a fan-like shape. The fabric is illuminated in contact with natural body heat.

The Shell of Fortitude, the royal seat of Aedynyet, of the house Alkhamora , was located in the very center of the country, its foundations built upon the very meteor that carved out the crater about a million years ago. It was from the remnants of such that coral grew from which her bracelet was forged; the properties of which Syreinya did not completely understand. Nevertheless, it was by far the safest place to be.

Beneath the outer shell walls was solid stone containing chambers without connecting pathways. Whenever Syreinya would raise her bracelet towards the walls of “shrinking rock,” the stone would recede in front of her while the rock behind her would fill in. Access in or out depended solely upon the bracelet without which the walls were impassable.

But, yet, under such safety, Syreinya felt a lack of comfort rather than the abundance of it. While the successful return of venturers was a happy moment, the young xzoltana, still, could not help but grow tense. Syreinya knew that of the few who dared make the trip even fewer returned. Indeed, Syreinya understood that if Aedynyet was to last the old ways could not go on forever. Since she was a child, she was brought up to believe that such sacrifice was even necessary. It was in this notion, she had grown to question and resent her role.

But did her family ever dare make the fateful trip themselves? No, and neither did the nobles nor any of the high ranking merfolk. Rather the expeditionaries were often volunteers among, "the forgettables," as some elite were apt to term the yeoman classes.

They were not downtrodden as it were, for again the nation was a highly prosperous one, but still those who volunteered were often those with less. Syreinya sat there, pondering these thoughts, within the safety of her walls and the comforts therein. And it was not lost on Syreinya that soon the few who returned, in time, would surely become the none.

"Am I really their queen or their executioner?"

These were the only words, spoken in silence, to pass over Syreinya's blue lips, as she laid there still in the dim light. It was a question that she knew she would have to find the answer to before the answer found her.

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