Enkerai sat perched on his stone starting marker, his staff was firmly planted in the soil in front of him. The gauntlet was the mother of all obstacle courses; four miles long, complete with swinging trunks, rope climbs and an animal chase among other things. Last week had been the women’s gauntlet, and though it may have been a good idea to have observed that event since the course was almost identical, Enkerai had spent the week looking for bird eggs. But no point on dwelling on lost opportunities - it was too late for that now.

Enkerai looked on with disinterest as the rest of the contestants stretched and warmed up before their cheering families. He recognised a few from school, some from the market, others from compulsory religious events at the Pagoda, none worth remembering by name. He looked behind and saw his own family approaching.

“Son, are you ready?” Enkerai’s father asked with furrowed brows that mirrored his brother’s face earlier. He was a shepherd around a similar height to Enkerai and his brown skirt and long coat billowed in the wind, rippling and flowing like fluid as he planted his old decorated staff into the floor and leant on it casually. His grey hair was short and was the only indicator of his age since his face was still youthful, albeit tired.

“Dad, I was born ready. This is just the pre-victory ceremony,” Enkerai boasted leaping up.

“Pride is before a fall Enke,” His younger sister, Kekere, noted as she took her place next to his father, her hand linked with their mother’s. Both wore their hair short as was the tradition in the village, their necks wreathed in beads and shells. Kekere would not be doing the gauntlet for another four years, but she was already practising with Araktobi.

“And there is strength in confidence, Kekere,” Enkerai’s father said, patting him on the back overly hard.

“Yeah, what he said,” Enkerai agreed, wincing.

“Runners! At your stations!” A loud voice boomed from a few metres away. It was Araktobi. As the head of the guard - which was for some strange reason considered the manliest role in the village - he was also in charge of the gauntlet. Even having missed the women’s gauntlet, if Enkerai had really wanted, he probably could have worked with his brother to find the best route around the course - after all, his brother designed it. However, it was too late for regrets now. Enkerai had to trust in his athleticism, stamina, and intelligence to get him through – whether he actually had any of these attributes in sufficient quantity was another issue entirely.

Enkerai knelt into a low crouching position in front of his stone marker, his ponytail flapping rhythmically against the side of his head. He looked to either side and counted around 16 young men moving into their favoured positions. He took a closer look at them now. Most were older, but two or three were the same age as him. He really should have known some of their names, but being the loner he was, he was indifferent to them. He watched as his brother took his position at the end of the line.

“The body and mind must always work in unison for success,” Araktobi’s voice rang loud and clear across the clearing, “The correct balance is hard to achieve, but is not unattainable. This test of manhood demands that you take advantage of this balance to succeed in the gauntlet. Run swift and run true. Learn from this experience. Not all of you will succeed, but all of you can grow.”

With that, Araktobi lifted a curved ram’s horn to his lips and blew hard. The gauntlet had begun.