I pulled out my wet pigtails and raced past Cal, who was selflessly offering an arm to his first-time walking friend, and Ofelia, who flaunted a gold tambourine necklace to her groupies, until I was at the very front of the group. Commander Lori waited at the head of the path, eyebrows propped as she pushed back towering grass with her coral rod. I couldn’t put into words how victorious it felt to be at the head of the pack.

I heard a scoff behind me and saw a horned wooden mask.

“Chickpea!” I exclaimed. “I didn’t even see you! Guess you’re stuck with me as a hiking partner.”

“Ugh, end me now.” He muttered under his breath, though clearly loud enough to spite me. Ha! As if I wanted to spend the entirety of this trek next to him.

But, if I wanted to rise in station, that did mean having to compete with him directly.

“I guess we’re ready then.” Lori said, looking out behind us to the rest of the pod. “Follow close behind! We're in bandit territory, and large gaps are easier to pick off!”

I took a wide step closer to Chickpea. He took one look at me and rolled his eyes.

“We’re good back here!” Coraline called from the far back with Tima.

“Then we’re off!” Lori led the way, hacking at grass that came at her face. Chickpea followed without much promise to stick to the buddy system, seeming concerned only for himself and his own safety. I huffed and slid my gijo stick from my bamboo rucksack to fend from the foliage.

We slopped along, encroached by tall grass and toe-deep in mud. It wasn’t enough water to abide by the one-drop rule, but it was still gross and I was certain several boys in our group did not invest in bringing footwear.

Once we were out of the thickets, we found shade under a continuous curtain of trees on the left side. The path was wide enough for at least five people so I skipped up next to Chickpea whose eyes were locked onto Lori just ahead.

“So,” I began, set on making this trek as unpleasant for him as possible, “You seem to have this walking thing down. Just another one of your talents, huh?”

He snorted like a bull and left it at that.

“Thing is, bintilets are extremely hard to come by for young mermaids if you don’t have powerful parents. You know, like having a captain for a mother.” I watched the eyelids behind his mask, waiting for some kind of reaction. “But you already knew that.”

He started surveying the landscape. Not much interest in these low hills, and yet he’s as alert as a dolphin.

“If you’re trying to ask something, just get to the point.” He grumbled.

“Why are you so good at walking?” There, I said it. It’s irritating that I can’t hold this over him.

“I’m from the mountains.” He said with a careless shrug. “I’ve always had legs.”

“Wait—so then, you lived in a lake?”

“I lived around a lake.”

“I don’t understand.” I blurted. Is he trying to say that he lived among humans? “But then—”

“My family is the only mermaid family in my village.” He said, a familiar annoyance beginning to build in his tone. “I could’ve gone to another Sire, one not so encroached in water, but I wanted to be challenged. So I picked Sire Sa Lamin.”

I tried to imagine his life, how much different it was from mine. I lived on a small island and that meant 70% of my adventures were in the deep. But I grew up surrounded by people like me. Humans were scarce and seldom met unless I was at the port or at the oversea market.

But Chid—he grew up completely on land, covered in all this scale—from his legs, to his arms, to, likely, under his mask. He must’ve had to endure so much being the only mermaid for miles. Maybe that’s why he’s so well trained already. There was literally nothing for him to do but prepare for the conscription.

“Aww, Chickpea…” I sniffled, almost feeling sorry for him.

He gave me a funny look under his mask. “Are you purposely refusing to learn my name?”