The course was similar to the horse challenge, in that it was filled with obstacles. Mud pits, walls, ponds and jungle gyms littered the grounds, with a series of flags laying out where to go. 

The sergeant from before greeted us when we arrived; his gruff, impatient nature seemed to have only worsened since last we’d seen him. The rules were simple; complete the obstacle course with the fastest time, and you would earn the most points. Or so he claimed; considering that all the other trials had had a hidden trick to them, I had no doubt this would be the same. 

Hearts racing in our chests, we lined up next to each other at the starting point. The boys were finally starting to take this seriously; perhaps the realization that a commoner had gotten this far had shaken them up. Meanwhile Beet Barbie betrayed no anxiety at all; her eyes were determined and focused with a drive that I could admire. I didn’t know her circumstances, but I had the feeling she had something pushing her forward just like me. For the first time since I met her I felt a sense of empathy; that she was just like me. But it wouldn’t stop me from throwing her under the proverbial bus if I had to. 

*BANG*

The starting pistol went off with a bang, sending us all leaping forward. The first part of the race was a flat field, which gave me an immediate advantage - my legs were longer than anyone else’s, and they quickly gave me the lead all the way to the first obstacle; a wire mesh laid just above the ground: the classic army crawl. 

I turned my sprint into a dive, ignoring the mess it would make of my shirt. Unfortunately the ground had more friction than I thought, and my dive became more of an awkward flop. Beet Barbie immediately took advantage of this, diving under the mesh far more gracefully and scurrying forward like a mouse. I hurried after her like the giant lumbering tomcat I was, but it was already too late; my lead was lost.

Beet Barbie cleared the end of the army crawl and leapt to her feet, racing towards the next obstacle. One of the noble boys also managed to surge ahead before I finally cleared the crawl myself; my body was not built for tight and narrow movements, even though I was only twelve years old. I could already tell puberty was going to be a wild ride. 

The next obstacle was still fairly simple; it was just a set of monkey bars over a mud pit that Beet Barbie was already halfway across. I raced forward to catch up, only to find myself stuck behind the boy that got ahead. He had gotten himself up onto the bars, but it was clear he had never used them before; he was dangling from the second bar and awkwardly stretching out his arm to reach the third. 

“Get a move on!” I shouted, frustrated by the block he was causing. The bars were too narrow to squeeze past him, and I could see Beet Barbie getting away just past him. 

“Silence commoner!!” he shrieked ungracefully, his legs kicking helplessly in the air.

I didn’t have time for this stupidity. Reaching up I grabbed the first bar and hauled myself up. With just a bit of effort I pulled myself above the bars. 

“Hey! That’s cheating!!” screamed the boy, but I was already running over him, carefully balancing on the thin bars as I went. I didn’t even hesitate when I reached the end; jumping down, I broke my fall with a roll and transitioned it back into a sprint, leaving behind the screaming of the boy behind me. 

I had a lot of ground to make up for, but the next stretch was again in my favour; a large field, followed by an enormous mud pit. My physical training of the last two years was starting to pay off, as I broke into an open sprint. The ground rushed past me as I caught up to Beet Barbie, who was standing at the edge of the mud pit like she was trying to figure out how to cross it. I politely demonstrated it for her by diving head first into the pit, splashing an enormous wave of muddy water behind me. Now she didn’t have to worry about dirtying her fancy clothes anymore.... 

The mud pit was deep, and the water was filthy. I had practiced some swimming, but it was hardly professional; all I could do was flail about in a vague imitation of a butterfly, and hope that it was working. I couldn’t hear the shrieks of the Beet Barbie anymore as the water rushed through my ears, covering me in mud and thoroughly ruining my clothes. But that didn’t matter; nothing mattered except winning this race.

Soon I found my feet finding purchase on the slippery mud as I came to the far end of the mud pit. I pulled myself free of the mud, and looked up to see the final obstacle. A series of posts were laid out before me, all at different heights and spaced fairly close together. Horizontal cross-bars were attached to each post at different heights, creating a maze of wooden bars to navigate through. It looked a bit like a stereotypical training arena from a kung fu action movie, except these posts were all spinning, making navigation through the course much more difficult. 

I stepped forward, readying myself for the challenge. The first few posts were easy to dodge; they were slow moving enough that I was able to wriggle my way through. I could do thi-

*THWACK*

Suddenly I was swept to my buttocks, just in time for a very filthy Beet Barbie to burst into laughter as she arrived. 

“Hahaha! You look like a filthy rat trapped in a cage, Carrot Top!”

“Not that you’re any better!” I yelled back as I clambered to my feet, only for another log to smack me back to the ground.

Beet Barbie smirked. “Not likely. You should just give up now, commoner! Save what little you have left of your dignity.”

With a confidence that almost frightened me, the girl stepped into the maze of swinging bats and poles. Like an elegant dancer she moved between them, squeezing her body through the narrowest of gaps. Her progress was quick; far quicker than I could manage, and she wasn’t getting hit at all. Anxiety surged within me as I watched her move with such elegance. If I couldn’t catch up to her then that was it - my life’s purpose, dashed. But I simply didn’t have the body nor movement that she did; I was trapped, like a caged bear. 

Finding a gap between the posts that was clear, I pulled myself back up to my feet again. I could see the other competitors gaining on me, and the girl was getting away.

Come on Freya... Think… THINK!

But nothing came; no clever tricks or schemes that I could use to weasel my way out of this one. I would just have to try. 

I stepped back into the forest of spinning posts, receiving a whack on my shoulder for my troubles. Gritting my teeth, I ignored it and took another step - this time the log came for my gut as I unsuccessfully tried to dodge. I could still see Beet- no, Marianne, growing closer and closer to the finish line, and my end. 

*WACK*

Another log smacked into the back of my head, sending me to the ground again, and something inside me snapped. 

With a growl so ferocious that it even scared me, I was back on my feet and moving. I was no dancer; no clever rogue that could move through untouched; no, I was a tank. I sprinted forward recklessly, full of a mysterious anger that I wasn’t even aware I was suppressing. It wasn’t fair - fair that I was born into this crappy medieval world into a poor family. It wasn’t fair that I had to go through these stupid trials that were so obviously rigged to favour the nobility, and it wasn’t fair that all of this was just to work for a stupid piece of shit father that couldn’t even look after his own daughter properly!!

I couldn’t even feel the posts anymore as they smashed into my body, likely giving me a variety of new and interesting bruises in the process. But they weren’t breaking me; no, I was breaking them, and the finish line was growing a lot closer. I don’t know what Marianne saw when she looked back at me, but the interesting colour of white her face turned gave me some pleasure as I blazed past her and across the finish line. 

Exhausted, I collapsed to the ground as my rush of adrenaline left me. A nearby attendant offered me a towel and some water, which I gratefully accepted; I was still filthy from the mud pit. But as I wiped myself down I was shocked to see the towel come away with blood. The injuries I received from my rampage were worse than I realized, and I could barely suppress a groan as those injuries began cashing their checks on my body.

Beet Barbie hadn’t said anything yet, despite finishing close behind; instead she was looking at me with a weird mix of fear and respect. Ah, no, her lip was still curled with disgust. Good to know I hadn’t freaked her out that badly…

Ah, but here came a rather annoying fly. 

“S-she… she… she cheated! Cheated!” gasped out the noble boy who I passed on the monkey bars. 

“Huh? Cheated? Who did?” bellowed Sergeant Foster. 

“Th-the filthy peasant!”

“How?”

“Sh-she passed me on the monkey bars! And look what she did to the obstacle course!” He gestured back at the pillars. They weren’t in bad shape; just a few broken bars here and there…

“W-wasn’t against the rules…” I gasped out in response. 

“Really eh? And what makes you think that?” interrogated Foster as he walked over to stand over me. 

“Rules just said I can’t attack the participants… nothing about the obstacle course…”

Foster stared at me for a moment, his brow scrunched up in suspicion. Another anxiety about whether I was right or not grew in my chest when- 

“Hahaha!! Good answer! Can’t catch up? Then just smash your way through!”

He offered a hand, pulling me up as I accepted. “Congrats missy, you came first. And since I like the way you think, you score a whole eighty five points.” I gasped as a wave of relief washed over me; it was enough to put me over two hundred points. But was it enough to get into the top two?

The sergeant continued. “Second place is Number Ten, so you get seventy-six points! You’re too afraid to get dirty, girl. Number Thirteen, you get sixty-four points and Number Eleven, you get sixty-five points. Though you came third, you made a right muck of the monkey bars, so I’m deducting points for that.” The noble boy that was number eleven sighed and shook his head, but made no complaint. 

“Right then! That brings us to your final scores,” said Sergeant Foster as he pulled out a sheet of paper. My heart was practically leaping out of my chest now; I knew it would be close...

“So, in last place we got Number Nine with fifty five points; easily eliminated before the last trial even started. Next, in fourth we have Number Thirteen with one hundred and eighty six. A decent showing, but not good enough. Third place, we have Number Twelve with two hundred and twenty-three points. I’ll be damned, that’s the best I’ve ever seen a commoner score; good show, girl.”

Huh?

“In second we have Number Eleven; he scored two hundred and twenty seven! Well done lad, you made it to the sword tourney!”

Wait… I lost?!

“And lastly we have Number Ten! With a whopping two hundred and fifty points, she easily takes first place!”

What? N-no… no. I can’t lose.

“Well done all of you, you put in a good fight. Number Ten and Eleven, head over to the arena to join the tourney. The rest of you, get lost."

Violette’s going to die if I lose…

“See commoner? You should’ve just given up and saved yourself the effort.”

How am I going to protect her if I’m not there?

“Just ignore her, Marianne. It’s not worth wasting your time on a peasant.”

How… am I doomed for failure?