(The Forbidden Border)
The village had no official name.
At least none that anyone they asked could agree on. Some called it Edgewater. Others called it the Border Rest. Most just called it the last place before the water, which was accurate enough that nobody argued with it.
It was small in the way that only places built entirely around necessity could be. Seventy people at most — fishermen and farmers who had organized their entire lives around the rhythm of the ocean on one side and the soil on the other.
The buildings were low and practical, weathered by salt wind into the particular grey of things that had been standing long enough to stop caring about appearances.
The vehicle was hidden at the forest's edge before they entered.
Jericho covered it with enough foliage that a passing glance wouldn't find it.
Then they walked in on foot — five travelers with nothing remarkable about them beyond the fact that Drako was Drako, which drew looks regardless of where he went.
The ocean was visible from almost everywhere in the village.
Vast. Grey-green. Moving with the particular indifference of something that had existed long before anyone thought to build a settlement beside it.
And across it — distant but present, rising from the water like something the world had forgotten to finish — the island.
The Mist Mountains.
Even from this distance the name made sense.
Cloud and vapor clung to its peaks in dense, unmoving layers, giving the whole landmass the quality of something half dissolved into the sky. It looked ancient. Untouched.
Unwelcoming.
William studied it from the village's edge with his arms crossed.
"Charming," he said.
"It's beautiful," Alice said.
"It's surrounded by open ocean and allegedly home to a dragon," William said. "But yes. Beautiful."
⸻
The first fisherman they approached was mending a net outside his home.
He was perhaps sixty. Weathered face. Hands that had pulled rope for decades. He listened to Jericho's request with the patience of someone who had heard variations of it before and had a well practiced answer ready.
"No," he said simply.
"We can pay generously," Jericho offered.
"No."
"We're experienced travelers. We wouldn't need you to accompany—"
"No boat in this village goes near that island," the man said, looking up from his net for the first time. His eyes were direct and completely without apology. "Not for any price. Not for any reason." He looked back down. "You seem like sensible young people. I'd advise you to turn around and go back the way you came."
They tried four more fishermen.
The answers were variations of the same word.
The fifth one — a younger man, perhaps thirty, with the look of someone who had inherited both his boat and his stubbornness from his father — at least elaborated.
"You've heard of the Dragon of Last Days?" he asked.
"We have," Erica said.
"Then you know it isn't a story." He looked at them steadily. "My grandfather's grandfather saw it. Three boats. Twelve men. None of them came back." He shook his head. "Whatever you need on that island — it isn't worth your lives. Nothing over there is worth your lives."
He walked away before they could respond.
They reconvened at the village's small communal well.
"Well," William said. "That went exactly as expected."
"They're not wrong to refuse," Alice said quietly. She was looking toward the island again. "You can feel it from here. Something about that place is—"
"Alive," Drako said.
Alice glanced at him.
"Yes," she said. "Alive."
Jericho said nothing. He was looking at the ocean with the particular expression he wore when he was listening to something nobody else could hear.
Erica watched him for a second.
"Jericho."
He turned.
"We knew this wouldn't be simple," she said. "Let's make camp and think."
He nodded.
"The forest edge," he said. "Away from the village."
⸻
(Camp — Forest Edge)
The fire was small but warm.
They had set up quickly — the kind of camp that said experienced travelers rather than people who had to think about it. Bedrolls arranged. Supplies organized. The ocean audible in the distance, low and constant, like the world breathing.
The mood was lighter than the situation probably deserved.
William had found berries on the walk in and was eating them with the focused satisfaction of someone who considered foraging a personal achievement.
Alice had arranged her bedroll with architectural precision and was now looking at the stars.
Drako sat with his back against a tree, eyes partially closed, existing in the particular stillness that made it impossible to tell whether he was thinking deeply or simply resting.
Erica sat across the fire from Jericho.
"So," she said. "The boats are out."
"Completely," William confirmed, mouth slightly full.
"We could try to build one," Alice offered.
"From what?" William asked. "We'd need materials, tools, time—"
"We have time."
"We also have a dragon waiting on the other side," William said. "I'd prefer not to spend our preparation period doing carpentry."
"Nobody said anything about carpentry," Alice said patiently.
"The principle stands."
Erica looked at Drako. "You can fly. In your dragon form."
Drako opened one eye.
"I can," he said. "Not far enough. The ocean crossing at that distance—" He paused. "I could make it. The rest of you couldn't ride through that."
"So that's limited," Erica said.
"Yes."
A silence settled over the group.
William finished his berries and looked at the fire thoughtfully.
"What if we don't cross by sea," he said. "What if we go around."
Everyone looked at him.
"Go around what?" Erica asked.
"The ocean. If we follow the coastline far enough—"
"William," Alice said gently. "It's an island."
A pause.
"…Right," William said. "Yes. That's—right."
"You can't go around an island by land," Alice continued, in the tone of someone who had decided kindness was more useful than amusement.
"I know that," William said. "I was thinking out loud."
"Were you?"
"Alice."
She smiled and looked back at the fire.
Drako's expression shifted slightly. Just slightly.
Erica pressed her fingers together, thinking.
"What about a constructed crossing," she said. "Not a boat. Something more substantial. If we could build something that extended far enough—"
"We'd still be sitting on top of the ocean in something the dragon could see from miles away," William said. "We'd be a moving target."
"We'd be a moving target in a boat too," Erica replied.
"At least a boat is fast."
"Relatively."
"Relatively is all we have."
Jericho had been quiet through all of it.
He was looking at the fire with his chin resting on one hand, the expression of someone who had already arrived somewhere and was waiting for the conversation to catch up.
Erica noticed.
"You have something," she said.
It wasn't a question.
He glanced up.
"I've been thinking," he said.
"About?"
He looked around at all of them.
"Mercury," he said simply. "I can construct a vessel. Sealed. Stable. Large enough for all of us and built to move through water rather than on top of it." He paused. "The problem is visibility. Mercury on open water would be noticeable. And if the dragon is territorial—"
"It would come for us before we reached the shore," Drako said.
"Yes."
A beat.
Jericho looked at Alice.
She looked back at him.
Then her eyes widened slightly as she followed where he was going.
"You want me to cover it," she said.
"Earth layering," Jericho said. "Over the mercury frame. It would look like — nothing. Just water. If we stay low enough and move carefully—"
"We'd be invisible from above," Alice said slowly. She was already working through it, her eyes distant with calculation. "The earth coating would need to be thick enough to be convincing but not so heavy that it compromises the structure—"
"The mercury handles the structure," Jericho said. "You handle the surface."
Alice looked at him for a long moment.
Then she nodded.
"It could work," she said.
William stared at both of them.
"You want to cross an ocean," he said slowly, "in a mercury boat covered in dirt."
"Earth," Alice corrected.
"That is genuinely insane," William said.
"Do you have a better idea?" Erica asked.
A pause.
"…No," William admitted.
"Then insane it is," Erica said simply.
Drako looked at the construct Jericho was already turning over in his mind — the quiet precision of it, the layers of it — and said nothing.
But the look on his face said everything it usually said when Jericho did something that nobody else would have thought of.
Satisfied.
Proud.
Completely unsurprised.
Jericho looked at the group.
"We rest tonight," he said. "I'll start building at first light. Alice, I'll need you beside me for the layering once the frame is ready."
Alice nodded.
"And the dragon?" William asked.
Jericho looked toward the ocean.
The distant island sat in the darkness, its mist-covered peaks barely visible against the night sky.
"We deal with it when we get there," he said.
William exhaled slowly.
"Right," he said. "Simple."
The fire crackled.
The ocean breathed.
And somewhere across the water, in territory that the world had long since decided to leave alone—
Something ancient shifted in its sleep.
⸻
(First Light)
The village was still sleeping when Jericho walked to the water's edge.
The ocean at dawn was a different thing entirely from the ocean at midday. Quieter. The grey green of it muted further by the early light, the horizon barely distinguishable from the sky above it. The mist around the distant island had thickened overnight — the peaks completely swallowed now, leaving only the suggestion of land rising from the water.
He stood at the shoreline for a moment.
Just listening.
The others arrived behind him in ones and twos.
Alice first, then Erica, then William still pulling his collar up against the morning cold. Drako last, silent as always, taking his position slightly apart from the group the way he always did — close enough to be present, far enough to observe.
"How long will it take?" Alice asked, coming to stand beside Jericho.
"Depends on what we need it to survive," he said. "Speed, stability, depth capacity." He looked at the water. "And size. It needs to carry five people comfortably without sitting too high in the water."
Alice nodded. Already thinking.
"Show me the frame first," she said. "I need to understand the shape before I can plan the layering."
Jericho rolled up his sleeve slightly.
The mercury responded immediately — rising from the containers he carried, flowing outward with the particular ease of something that had long since stopped requiring effort from him. It moved to the waterline and began taking shape.
William watched it from a few steps back.
"Every time," he muttered quietly. "Every single time."