Donnie picked up his sword and the cloth-wrapped package of cookies his mother had left. There was no sign of his parents coming up. He took one more glance before turning and walking into the woods as the twilight sky grew darker.
He placed the cookies next to a fire he had made in a little clearing for later. As he dangled a piece of wood from a low branch, his thoughts strayed to previous failures and disappointments. He hesitated because of the lingering weight of his failures. He raised his sword at last and struck. Two pieces of wood broke off. He hit once more, more forcefully and sharply each time.
Donnie sat by the fire and reached for his cookies when the last piece of wood had been reduced to splinters. He gazed into the fire, but his thoughts were elsewhere, still engrossed in what had happened at Langer that morning.
AT LANGER EARLIER THAT DAY:
"Next!"
Donnie entered the hallway, where four severe invigilators were seated behind a large table, evaluating each applicant with a critical, harsh gaze.
One of them demanded, "NAME?"
"Donnie Robertson," he said, attempting to maintain a steady tone.
He was invited forward by one of the invigilators, a grizzled man with a deep frown and a bushy moustache. He gestured to a rack and said, "Get a sword from here, and follow this man."
Donnie followed instructions, trying to hide the churning horror in his stomach. But his nerves were tense inside.
Dimly lighted by flickering flames, the man guided him down a stone tunnel. He felt as though the rough stone walls were closing in on him. They stepped into a tiny, doorless chamber with a little box on top of a single pillar in the middle.
A tiny vial of glowing liquid was visible when the invigilator opened the box. His face was expressionless as he turned to face Donnie. "Drink the potion inside whenever you're ready."
The man left without saying anything more and watched him from the doorway.
Feeling the weight of his choice, Donnie inhaled deeply before taking a single drink of the potion.
Abruptly, the space glowed, changing into an odd green-lit room. A tall, hideous monster with red eyes, sharp teeth, and a sword that glittered in the green light was standing in front of him.
With deadly resolve, the beast lunged and swung its blade. Donnie's heart was racing as he ducked barely in time. The beast had physical power but little speed, he realised as he circled it. Feeling brave, he swung his own sword at it, but the beast easily blocked. Donnie applied more force, but his sword only briefly touched the animal's rough, bark-like skin.
The beast roared viciously back, bringing its sword down with a boom. The strike was too strong for Donnie to block. His vision was torn into darkness as the creature's sword descended, the last thing he saw.
RETURNING TO THE PRESENT:
Donnie's mind wandered back to the surrounding woods as he finished the last of his cookies. Even though he had lost today, the battle was far from done. In the hopes that the habit would help him decompress, he made the decision to collect additional wood. He scooped up the few cookies that were left and proceeded deeper into the forest after making a makeshift torch out of a branch.
He had been gathering firewood for a few minutes when he heard a shrill, frantic scream resonating through the woods in the distance. He listened intently, attempting to gauge the direction, and his pulse accelerated.
With the torch creating unsettling shadows all around him, he ventured farther into the woodland. The scream was closer than the last time and came from his left.