After breakfast, the games began. The entire town had gathered to watch the young hopefuls compete for the top place in the trials.

“Ah, there they are,” the chief called to his sons. “We were afraid we’d have to start without you,” the chief said, trying to mask the nervousness in his voice. The fact that both of the boys he had taken in and called sons would be competing today was weighing heavily on him. He had faith in his boys, but faith could only carry them so far.

“Are you guys ready?” the chief asked.

“Always,” Grok and Veil said in unison. They both paused, laughed, and slapped each other on the shoulder.

“Good, then we shall begin,” the chief said gruffly. With a nod, he sauntered over to the center of the arena, cleared his throat to quiet the crowd, and began to speak. His voice was booming, seemingly amplified in some manner that Veil didn’t quite understand, but just chalked up to being some kind of magic, which was confirmed by Grok.

“I love it when he does that.”

“Does what?” Veil asked.

“Uses his voice amplification ability. It was a gift from the last chief.”

“Really?” Veil asked.

“Yeah, you should see it in battle. It can be very commanding.”

“I could see that.”

The chief locked eyes with them at that moment, his face very stern. They both realized at the same time that they’d been caught, and for some reason, the feeling was that of being caught talking in church. Both he and Grok shut their mouths quickly.

“And to conclude the opening ceremony,” the chief finished, “I would like to remind you that every man and woman in the crowd today, remember that you are more than the sum of all of your parts. You may have been born to be a butcher, a farmer, or even a candlestick maker, but with hard work and dedication, you can rise up and be anything you wish. Thank you,” the chief said, slapping his hands together and whirling around. He then began to chant, and as he did, the ground began to rumble. The shock of it all caused Veil to nearly stumble and fall, but Grok put his hand on his brother’s shoulder to steady him.

“This is the good part, just watch,” Grok said, pointing to the point just beyond their father. As the chant seemingly hit the high point, the ground began to shake more and more violently, and peaks began to form. After just a moment, the once flat ground was a sprawling obstacle course complete with ridges and peaks that looked so sharp they themselves seemed as though they could cut a man in half. Grok was bouncing on his toes at this point, the excitement clear in his eyes. The dread was evident in Veil’s.

The chief spun again, addressing the crowd. “This is the first trial. It is an obstacle course, clearly, but hidden within it are seven wooden targets. You must destroy them all to move on to the next trial. Everyone who succeeds may move on, but points are awarded based on speed, style, and flair,” the chief said, winking at Veil.

The chief concluded shortly after that and walked back over to his sons, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a rag. “That’s a lot of mana to expunge all at once, but you have to admit it’s one heck of a spectacle, is it not?” the chief said with a smile.

“It sure was,” Veil said with a smile. “I had no idea you could do that. It was simply amazing.”

“It really was. Last year had nothing on this. You’ve really stepped up your game, Dad,” Grok replied.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

“It’s not every year the chief has two sons competing in the events,” the chief responded. “Anyways, I must be off. The elders have a special seat right over there,” the chief pointed to a raised platform that Veil swore wasn’t there moments before. “Oh, but before I go, Veil, where is Tank?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure. He said he would be here,” Veil said, looking around.

A howl, loud enough to compete with the chief’s magically amplified voice, shook the crowd to their very core. Some even resorted to whimpering. The wolf, no longer a puppy, padded into the crowd and walked right up to Veil. “I told you I’d be here,” Veil. The wolf said telepathically.

“Yes, you did,” Veil said, reaching down to pat his puppy on the side, but he realized he no longer had to reach down. Tank had gone from barely more than a handful of a pup to being nearly Veil’s height seemingly overnight. “You’ve gotten big, haven’t you?” Veil said.

“I told you I’ve been training as hard as you have, Veil. That is all. I couldn’t let you down,” Tank responded.

“I don’t think you could if you tried,” said Veil.

“What’s he saying?” the chief asked.

“Oh, nothing really. He’s just being a good boy,” Veil said, continuing to pat the large wolf.

At that moment, Veil realized that the entire crowd had gone completely silent. He looked over to them; they were all bowing.

“Wait, what’s going on?” Veil asked.

It started as barely a whisper: “Beast Master.” But it rose in crescendo. “Beast Master!” Until yet again, for the second time that day: “Beast Master!” The ground shook. “Beast Master!” The crowd’s chant: “Beast Master!” Until the chant: “Beast Master!” Could be heard: “Beast Master!” At the king’s palace.

“Silence!” the chief yelled, waving his arms to silence the crowd. “As you may have now noticed, the Beast Master has arrived. He will find our home, and he will bring us back together. He is the Great Reuniter, but first, he must pass the trials. Let him be and let him get to work.”

“We will begin by calling you up one at a time. Casteel, you will be first,” the chief said with an air of nonchalance. Casteel was an archer through and through. Veil had seen him training and was not sure if his speed and agility came from an ability scroll or if the man had just worked so hard he had naturally become otherworldly, but if the chief chose him to go first, he either thought they were the betters and he was saving the best for last or he simply wanted to crush their spirits. Casteel walked up to the entryway of the arena with the confidence of ten thousand men. The chief yelled “Go!” with his magically projected voice, and so he began. Casteel ran headlong into the course, never stopping. One, and then almost instantaneously two targets were felled, and then just as Casteel was about to spin and take out his third wooden prey, the ground seemed to swallow him whole. The crowd collectively let out a gasp of air.

“What was that?” Veil proclaimed.

“That was a trap,” Grok replied with a smile.

“There are traps?”

“Are there not traps in the outside world?” Grok asked.

“Yes, but-” Veil led off.

“But what? The world is beholden to many types of traps, whether it be orcen, fae, or even elven. You should always focus on your right now and not your future. Look,” Grok said, pointing to a sign Veil hadn’t noticed before. The sign simply read “Beware. Father even warned him,” Grok said with a chuckle. “They say speed is important here, but there is a reason everyone who passes this trial goes to the next round.”

Grok’s name was called next. He was slow and steady and ultimately had what Veil decided was a solid time of five minutes and thirty-two seconds. After Grok, ten other men were called before Veil was up. Nervousness nearly overtook him, followed by dizziness and the urge to vomit, but he continued the walk to the gate.

“Veil,” the chief said, “you got this.”

“I got this,” Veil repeated, taking a deep, steadying breath. “I got this.”

“Go!” the chief rang out.

A blur shot past Veil’s leg just as the gate opened. “I got this,” Tank’s voice rang out in Veil’s head, and before the confusion of what had happened cleared from his head, the bell rang, marking the end of the trial.

“The Beast Master passes the first trial,” the chief proclaimed, “and in under 40 seconds to boot. What a wonderful show.”

Veil and Tank walked down the entry and back into the crowd. The fear that Grok would feel cheated—he had the fastest time before whatever that was—weighed heavily on Veil’s mind. He walked slowly up to a very stern-looking Grok.

“That was-” Grok began.

“I know, listen-” Veil began.

“Amazing!” Grok screamed.

“How did you even think of that?” Grok said, lifting his brother into the air and spinning him around. “The traps were all set to humanoid creatures. Tank didn’t even have to worry about them. That was so cool. You’re so cool, brother,” Grok said with so much enthusiasm that Veil couldn’t help but laugh.

“Hey, Grok,” Veil said.

“Yes, brother?” Grok replied.

“Can you put me down, please?” Veil replied.

“Oh, yes, sorry,” Grok said, putting Veil back on his feet. Clearing his throat, “Hey, brother?”

“Yeah, man,” Veil responded.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re amazing?” Grok said.

“You’re pretty amazing too,” Veil replied. “Anyways, when’s the next event?”

“In a few hours. Let’s get some food,” Grok said.

“To food!” Veil yelled, pumping his fist in the air.

In total, three hundred orcs competed in the first event, and by the end, only twenty-nine orcs and one human stood victorious.