It was a dark thunderous rainy day as a little boy woke up and looked for his favorite outfit, a beige explorer outfit with sunglasses. He grabbed his favorite backpack and a green belt to complete the outfit. Before he left the room, he looked in the mirror and winked at his reflection. He was a stud for a 14 year old.

Tearing his eyes away from the mirror he ventured outside of his room. He meandered to the kitchen drawn by the aroma of the breakfast his mother had prepared. She smiled at him as he approached his usual seat, enjoying the way his eyes lit up as he noticed a small green gift wrapped package she had prepared as a surprise for him. He couldn’t wait to open it and see what was hidden inside. “Breakfast will be ready soon!” shouted his mother, “But first, you need to go to the bathroom and wash up young man!” She could tell he was impatient as he dashed off to the bathroom and cleaned his face and hands as fast as he could, nearly knocking over a bookcase in his wake.

The minute he returned to the table, the young boy grabbed at the package. Only to be stopped by a stern glance from his mother who handed him a plate piled high with waffles. He took the plate and quite literally ‘dug in’. “There is no need to hurry that much,” said his mother smiling at her son’s appetite. Once he had finished devouring his meal, his eyes darted to the green gift.

Chuckling, his mother answered the unspoken question “Okay little Nublet, you may go ahead and open your birthday gift.” She was teasing him. Normally, he hated this nickname, but he ignored it for today.

He tore into the wrapping paper, haphazardly shredding the green paper in his excitement. His mother shrugged wearily as the carefully tied bow was tossed to the ground. It was worth it though. Her son’s reaction to when he opened the box made up for it. He sucked his breath in as he saw the golden ticket glimmering in the box. In delicate fine print, the number 22 was printed. “Is that...is that what I think it is?” He asked with a stunned expression.

“This, my lovely Nublet, is indeed you ticket for the upcoming Isya Games! You’ve trained so hard and I know you have been looking forward to this moment ever since you watched your father competing years ago, your father who had also wished to honor the legacy of his father. A great hero and namesake of our town. If they could see you now, little Nublet. I know they would be proud.” His mother’s voice broke as she continues, “ Do your best son, remember - your mother has always been proud of you. And nothing will change that.

Leaping up from his chair to comfort his mother, the boy whispered, “Mom, I won’t let you down.” She held his embrace lingering an instance to commit the moment to her memory. A wave of sad nostalgia passed over her as her son gently pulled away smiling knowing that this summer, her little boy would be growing up. Transitioning into the man she knew he was capable of being.

As he walked towards the town market place, the boy couldn’t help but look at the sky in amazement. Mere moments ago the sky had been pouring and now the menacing storm clouds were replaced by fluffy white clouds as the sun peaked out from behind them. He then realized how quickly everything was changing. Clutching his ticket tightly, he approached the fountain in the center of the market place, where the representative Town Chief had already begun to speak to the crowd of adventurers who had gathered for the Isya Games. As the crowd quieted down waiting for the announcement to be made, a strong breeze passed over the town, blowing a stray flower from a bouquet over to the boy’s foot. 

The sight of the flower seemed to be the only thing calming the butterflies in his stomach. The boy snapped back into attention as the voice of the town chief boomed out, “ Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to our annual Isya Games!” A loud round of applause and cheering broke out before the chief continued, “As per usual, we have been screening all the adventurers who have been nominated as contestants this year. Each and everyone of you knows the stories of our land, you know the dangers that await once you leave this city. In able to be proclaimed victorious, you will have to rely not only on your strength but also on your wit and character. Remember, wars are not won by reckless violence, wars are won by strategy and sacrifice. Do our ancestors proud and show them that the strength of the Henneath alliance still prevails! Those of you who return as successful and distinguished warriors will be immortalized in our History.”

The words of the chief inspired the crowd, many who had been training for this exact occasion their entire lives. The young boy glance around. He felt small. For a minute he doubted his ability to succeed. The sun reflected endlessly off the armor and weapons of those in the crowd. Closing his eyes, the boy called forth the memory of faded picture that his mother kept framed on the table in the kitchen beside her bed. The man in the picture had Shaggy blond hair and he held the hands of a taller, equally fair Elven woman. The man and woman in the portrait had been holding hands. Smiling to himself at the memory of such a testament to the strength of love, the young boy opened his eyes to the sound of a tall brunette calling his name, “Come on Roumenus! Let’s win this!”

“Sure thing!” Roumenus took off chasing after his childhood friend teasing her, “Hey Ruby, has anyone ever told you, you fight like a girl?”

She turned and rolled her eyes at him as they headed into the Forest of Tides.

Who will be this year’s Victors in the Isya games?