Each competitor stands on the rough sand, a cool, dry desert breeze rifling our scarves.

Flint smiles at the sight of my blackened eye; the result of his foolish fists.

“That eye isn’t looking too good, Sera. Maybe you should leave the competition before it becomes something worse, like a stab wound.” Flint smirks.

“Is that a threat?” I say back, not backing down.

Flint narrows his eyes, but is interrupted by Deris, the announcer and competition master.

“Good morning fellow competitors! Today will be a trial of elimination. It will be brutal, deadly, and deliberately cruel. So who is going to die today?”

Deris takes a moment to laugh, but none of us join him.

“Well,” he continues, “today you each will be tasked to climb the mountain behind me. You will each be given one tool of your choice to use in aid.”

I look to the table and see an array of items: hammers, pickets, ropes, knives, and cloth.

I eye the picket.

“Alright, competitors, the trial has BEGUN!”

With a bang of a gun, I am on my toes, running towards the table.

I grab the pickets and head towards the mountain.

It’s so steep I’d need to scale the wall in order to capture the flag on top.

The challenge had begun.