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“They will fight through three of the deadliest tasks, presenting their courage, intelligence, and power. There will be a jury of the royal family, including my humble self and my children, who will share points with the contestants based on their given performance, but only one will go out of the tournament as the winner. And will bathe in eternal glory and a price of 100,000 Gulls!”

The crowd erupted into cheering again and Noora’s feet were starting to fall asleep. Her eyes darted over to the vessel every few seconds, hope growing smaller and smaller, like the wick of a candle until it finally burned out.

There was no chance in hell that her name was drawn by that amount of paper, it seemed to have quadrupled overnight.

The queen made a lazy gesture towards a guard who stepped up to her side, offering her his arm.

She got up elegantly before walking over to the vessel.

Her hand was gloved as Noora watched it dip into the sea of parchment, waving around until she caught a note that she seemed to be satisfied with.

“The first contestant who has the honour of partaking is,” she unfolded the note in front of her eyes, “Pika Iosua!”

The crowd looked around until a tall boy raised his hand. “Here!”

“Come forward, young man!” Queen Euphemia called. Some guards ushered to make the boy, who looked more like a man, a pathway through the crowd.

A knot formed in Noora’s throat as she took in his big stature which reminded her of the encounter with the bear a day ago.

Pika Iousa looked like he was the same age as Noora, his hazel hair bound in a short braid that contrasted with his bronze skin.

She felt like the earth shuddered as he took the steps onto the podium and Lulva shrieked into her.

He was a Sosye.

Or maybe his parents were but there was no denying that a boy this big and muscly was not a descendant of the witch hunters.

Suddenly, Noora was really happy about the likeliness of her name being drawn. The queen looked like a child beside him, having to crane her neck to bless him with a winning smile.

The guards seemed to tense as he stood so close to the queen, but to Noora’s surprise, he bowed before giving her a smile that made him look like a soft bear. But Noora knew not to judge a book by its cover. Especially if he was a Sosye.

“The next lucky person will be,” the queen announced as her hand dove back into the vessel, drawing out a piece, “Sören Eriksen!”

“Yes! Yes! My son!” an elderly man started to cheer loudly as a gangly boy reached the stage.

“You are invincible Sören!” his father called after him and the boy turned confused with a bedazzled look on his face before he slugged forward onto the stage.

Sören was a small boy, his arms thinner than Lulvas, his skin as pale as his hair was light. He was the prototypical subject of Oy Frossen.

The queen nodded as he stood beside Pika, who now looked more like a giant beside the slightly confused-looking boy.

Noora still raved over the boy, who looked like he sniffed too hard on the forest mushrooms, as another name was called.

“Kekoa Nakamura!”

The crowd erupted into cheers so loud, that Lulva clutched her ears as Noora’s blood froze in her veins. A man stepped onto the podium, his skin as deep as the bark of trees in the forest, his hair cropped uncharacteristically short. He was as tall as Pika but less chubby, his arms were exposed by a short-sleeved tunic, showing the tense muscles and protruding veins. His body looked like it was carved by a god, the perfect killing machine, with soulless eyes and a scar running past his lower lip.

Another Sosye.

And this time, Noora was sure, he was committing his family’s legacy. As if he heard her thoughts, the boy zeroed in on her, his face contorting into an angry grimace.

He knew what she was, of course he did, and Noora should not be surprised that so many witch hunters threw their names into the vessel.

They were expert killers and while they were only tolerated in Oy Frossen when living harmless and peaceful, she could see in his eyes that he was not.

“Now on for the last member.”

Kekoa was still staring at her, making her skin cover in goosebumps and triggering the deepest survival instincts inside her body.