Let me tell you what it’s like to be an adolescent mermaid conscripted into your country’s army. At 5:58 in the morning, a royal fleet’s fog horn rips through the sea, waking you from your crappy slumber against the ceiling. You nap for one more minute as a cold shiver creeps up your spine. Obviously, it’s a natural warning that you stupidly ignore. At 6:00 sharp, you scramble into formation at the mouth of the dorms where Commander Lori waits expectantly.

Those who are late by a millisecond get the rod.

Now it’s past 6, and like every morning this goddamn week she has us swimming laps around the perimeter of the academy. It takes every ounce of energy to keep up with my pod. I’m last in line with Tima just ahead of me. Far at the front, leading us at a tiring speed, is Chickenbutt.

Right behind him in the number two spot is a beautiful mermaid, a girl with flawless scalefree skin and a rich purple tail that dips to yellow closer to the stomach. She’s the only one who’s been able to breach the gap, and everyone else lags behind them. Ofelia may one day surpass Chickenbutt for the number one spot.

My stomach tightens and my vision blurs as we push on. How long has it been since we started? Ten minutes? Twenty? I’m so dizzy I just barely grab Tima’s tailfin and sign, (I feel sick.)

(Keep going,) she replied in between strokes.

But I can’t. I’m feeling...so faint.

I drifted and detached from the pod. At the sight of shelter in the form of a curving rock, I dropped and leant against it.

I’ll rejoin when they come back around in half an hour. That would be fine, right? God, I feel like I want to hurl.

The heat in my face slowly dissipates, and I’m almost ready to get back up. When I manage to lift my head, the whole pod is crowded above me, staring. Oh. Crap.

Commander Lori floats at the helm, her glare intense. I already know that my abandonment of the pod is worse than dragging it down.

She wound a fist and struck her finger up in the air for everyone to see. (POD UP.)

Everyone shot for the surface, and I drifted up as best as I could. The team was tense and silent with only the roll of the sea jostling movement.

“Rocca, would you kindly tell me what the hell you’re doing?” Lori demands. Everyone is arranged around us, barely chin high. Tima’s eyes are downcast. Chickenbutt stares furiously behind his dripping mask. Ofelia appears slightly annoyed.

“I-I’m sorry,” I’m barely able to get a word out, squeezed by the pressure in Lori’s eyes. “I...I couldn’t keep up, I...” I covered my mouth as my stomach punched in itself. I gagged behind my palms.

“Don’t you dare throw up in the water. I’ll make you swallow it back up.” she hissed. She whipped around to survey my teammates. “You all think this is fine, don’t you? Tell me, who was leading the pod!?”

Ofelia and Chickenbutt narrowly glance at each other, likely trying to figure out who was in front the longest.

“I see, so no one can remember!?” Lori yells. “WELL THAT’S DANDY. Whoever is my lieutenant, burn this in your mind. You’re only as strong as your weakest link—her.” she pointed a heavy finger at me. “You need to adjust your pace accordingly. I don’t care if you think you can finish earlier if you go faster. We are a pod, so we go together.”

I might’ve been touched if I didn’t know there was a punishment waiting for us.

She pointed to a slate curving wall a short swim away. “Everyone head there. We’re doing pushups until Rocca can swim a complete lap around the academy.” she turned to Chickenbutt. “You. You’re going to lead Rocca, and you’ll do it right. But remember—the longer you two take, the longer your teammates have to suffer. Now go.”

The pod swims off, and my stomach tightens worse at the thought of all my teammates hating me. I know Tima will collapse if she has to do pushups five minutes straight.

“I can’t believe you did this.” Chickenbutt sneers. “You need to end your theatrics.”

I raised my head as I held my queasy stomach. “Y-you think I’m faking this?”

“There’s nothing for you to throw up. We haven’t been dismissed for breakfast.” He says matter-of-factly. Wow, he has the perfect face for punching.

“That’s not why people throw up...” I whined, “I don’t swim like this regularly. You had us sprinting nonstop for over a mile—”

“Oh, so this is my fault?” he cut in. “Don’t try to pull that crying shit with me.” He flipped over, his tail dousing me in a giant splash. “Let’s go. And keep up without the damn tears.”

He dove under without a second thought and I threw my hands in my wet hair. He’s driving me nuts. I really do feel like shedding tears, but I won’t give him the satisfaction. I won’t let him, or anyone for that matter, see me with ugly scales on my face.

I swooped under, swimming at a pace of my own terms. Chickenbutt constantly kept checking back to be sure I was behind him, and he’d gotten far out of reach on more than one occasion. But I kept steady, slow as a seahorse.

Soon we began to pass off-kilter marble structures sitting in the sand, an indication that we were near the academy. These sets of arches and glass, now used as courtyards, previously crowned the academy’s various towers. Ma’am once said that mermaids longed to have a stable city above water like humans, but the sea was hardly temperate. Something always falls.

Over and over again, tsunamis and monsoons and monsters themselves have tried to topple the Ocean Guard Academy. And yet it still stands.

Chickenbutt began to angle upwards and I followed, curious to why he was changing course. Was he trying to get hit by a boat? I breached the surface and stared at the back of his head where the mask tied into place. He was breathing hard, but suppressed it in a way that made it seem like he wasn’t tired.

“Let’s take a quick sixty second break.” he said.

Sheesh, precise. I didn’t bother wasting my breath on a retort. I could hear the chatter of other mermaids and boats nearby, and as I thought, we were close. The port was less than a minute away, and if I looked up...

And there it is. The assembly of marble columns and glass towers that wink vividly in colors that change when it catches the light. A building that has withstood hundreds of waves, and will withstand hundreds more. It’s planted within a short, sturdy mountain that’d been outfitted with steel support. When I first saw it as a kid, I thought it was a castle. Maybe I still do. But every time I fall into its shadow, I feel no warmth or protection. Only fear.

“Let’s go,” Chickenbutt calls. I nod and follow him, though my eyes are still honed on the academy. I sigh and look away.

Will I ever possess the strength to live up to this monument?