Franco was loathed to discover that the first test was a test of running, consisting of running while carrying a heavy rock back and forth. As he and Alex strained to carry each of their rocks back to the starting line, the knight captain blew his whistle to signal the end of this trail. To nobody’s surprise, Jona finished last. Sitting on the ground twenty or so paces behind the two boys, she looked to be on the verge of tears.

As the boys approached her, Alex said “Don’t be too sad, I’m sure that you’ll prove yourself in the following trials.”

“Yeah,” added Franco, “I’m sure you will.”

“Listen up,” came the commanding voice of the knight commander, “that was the most dismal display of physical strength I have in all my years as a knight. I’ve seen ants run faster and newborns carry more weight. However, all of you will have a chance to redeem yourself in the next trial: combat. Sir Bertrand, get the training swords.”

Sir Bertrand was a knight who was 5’7”, with long dark hair, piercing emerald eyes, a hawkish nose, and faint eyebrows. There was not much else to discern the knight by, since they all wore armor of the same design. Sir Bertrand hurried behind a large boulder, and moments later, produced a barrel full of wooden swords. The knights passed out the swords, and the knight commander informed them that there would be two tests of combat: a tournament-style dueling test, and a melee. As there was an odd number of participants, one of the village boys was selected to duel a knight. They were partnered up, with brackets being drawn up, and the knight began to bet on the outcomes of the duels, much to their commander’s displeasure.

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Thanks to Franco’s monstrous strength, he felled his first two opponents without issue, delivering a vicious strike to the knee that sent his first opponent to the ground, and delivering a kick to the chest of his second opponent who did likewise. Alex struggled more, but he two advanced to the third round. The boy who had been paired with the knight was beaten handily, surprising no one. However, Jona also made it to the third round. After watching her bouts, Franco decided that the real reason she won was because her opponents had hesitated in exploiting her poor swordsmanship, thus letting her gain the upper hand. Now there were only five of them remaining. The knight commander called for a break, all while loudly informing them that there were no breaks given in battle. The five who remained sat together, studying their potential opponents. Aside from Jona, Franco, and Alex, there sat two other village boys, a tall, quick lad named Sirus, and a boy average in nearly every aspect. He stood at 5’7”, an average height, his brown hair and eyes were unremarkable, forgettable even. His nose looked just like any other, and the light smattering of freckles around his cheeks was a trait commonplace in the citizens of the Empire. He was Johnathan, but everyone called him John.

“Get up,” came a shout from the knight commander, “since there are five of you, this will be a little tricky. Let’s see… The girl will fight the tall one,” he said, pointing at Jona and Sirus, “the pale one will fight the common-looking one,” indicating Alex and John, “ and,” he said slowly, as a grin spread across his face, “you,” he said while pointing at Franco, “will fight me.”