I find myself pondering it often. Was it me who started this war?

Do you remember? The first day of orientation?

I had arrived at the academy on a royal ship, the biggest in the whole port. Eyes were on me the moment I stepped down the plank with a crate of my clothes. Everyone immediately started buzzing about a captain’s daughter being escorted by a princess.

It was embarrassing, all the attention. Everyone kept asking who I was, who I knew. I told them what they wanted to hear—that my mother was Captain Vila, the most brutal and decorated mermaid on Kiniye Island. That my eldest sister was a notorious monster slayer, that she was one of the top alumni here. And so that prompted the same question over and over.

Who was I?

Was I planning to follow in their footsteps?

I said what I needed to get them to let it go. I told them I’d be the next best thing to come out of these crystal towers. Before we were split into our troops, I was brought to the central chambers where upperclassmen danced to a drum circle. It was all freshmen in the waters, gazing up at their seniors who’d already been granted bintilets. I was one of the few freshmen who could dance on the pedestal with them.

“Woo! Go Rocca!” Tima had cheered from the water. We danced side by side, me on tile and she in the water. Our friend Cal grinned at us from the drums.

I smiled shyly, eyes on the floor as I span about and followed the group choreography. It was embarrassing dancing to the new crowd. The beat of the drums was deafening, diverting my anxious thoughts. Slowly, my head rose, and I caught another assured smile from Cal at the drums. I reversed my spin, whipping my head right up, beaming at the other dancers.

My eyes caught to a sharp figure leaning on a faraway column, and I slipped. The world came up from under me.

“Oh my god Rocca!” some of the girls fussed as they pulled me up. “Are you alright?”

“U-um,” truth be told, my pride hurt more than my tailbone. But now that figure from the column was coming towards me, pushing through the concerned onlookers with a blank stare. I flinched in surprise when I realized it was a wooden monster mask that made this boy so sharp.

“You,” he said at my feet, offering no hand. “Aren’t you the daughter of a captain?”

“…Y-yes?” I’d forgotten all about that when I was spinning around.

He tossed an escrima stick on my lap. I hadn’t even realized he’d been carrying two. “Spar me.” He demanded.

“Why…?” I feigned innocent fright as I held onto the long smooth wood like a lifeline. The upperclassmen around me turned to the masked boy with huffy frowns.

“What’s with you?” one balked. “Who are you to challenge her?”

“If you’re not going to help her up, get lost.” Another girl said.

The boy was resilient. “I want to gauge how useless this academy is going to be. If a captain’s daughter can’t put up a fight, then I don’t need this place.”

Is his mask tied on too tight? Does he have a death wish?

Now the upperclassmen’s sparked rage was angled at me. “Beat him up, Rocca!” one said.

“This fresh meat needs to be taught a lesson.” Another one growled. I pulled myself to my feet. The crowd fell back to give us room. The masked boy stepped back and practiced swinging his staff. Crap, it’s too late to start crying.

“Go!” someone called. The boy rushed forward like a whale, stomping with heavy feet as he held back the staff. I shrieked and slid to the side, barely dodging him as he stabbed forward. He growled and struck, catching me in the side just before I could move back.

“Ow!” I cried, eking out a tear. No sympathy from the crowd, only hard cheers for me to keep going. Crap.

“You got this Rocca!” Tima shouted.

The boy swung again, hungry and heavy. I blocked, barely managing to keep my grip. I lurched back at another jab. This is nuts.

“Show me what you’ve got already!” He shouted, frustration deep and jilted. What was this guy’s problem? What was his problem with me?

I blocked once more, then pulled back, ready to smack him down—

But he caught me mid-swing, with a hundred times more power and brute force. The wood snapped in my hands, one piece flying halfway across the room and the other rolling at my feet. The boy brought the width of staff against my scaleless neck.

“Are you serious?” he hissed. “That’s the best you can do?”

“I-I’m not…a fighter.” I tried to explain.

“Obviously.” He said. “The only thing you’re good at is looking cute.”

I eased out of my tense stance. “…You think I’m cute?”

He went tsk and tossed his escrima stick, and for a second I thought that’d be the end of it. But then he hurled himself at me, and in a whirl of air, once again the world spun out from my feet. He’d thrown me to the floor and had me pinned. I froze.

“You’re not even trying to fight me. For a captain’s daughter, you’re pathetic.” He hissed. “Do yourself a favor and find some schmuck to impregnate you. You’d be able to leave the army.” He pulled up just as the upperclassmen rushed for us. “Then you can stop wasting everyone’s time.”

He walked away as everyone clamored and fussed around me. I kept to the floor and let silent tears flood by. Some guys shouted at him as he left for making me ‘cry’. I later learned, when he was separated into my pod, that his name was Chid. I vowed to never say his stupid name aloud.

I may be the one instigating these battles. But he’s the one who declared war.