In my town, there are two sayings that parents teach their children. One: you die, or the troll dies. Two: a family that fights together lives forever. Pfft, I always laughed at the second one. My family taught me nothing and they were the exact opposite of anything a kid would hope for. 

From the age of seven, every child in the town is taught how to fight and how to control their anger for strength. We practised with swords, bows and our hands. Having no friends gave me a lot of time to practise. I was strong and wasn't scared of any troll or anything that might come my way.

When you turn twenty-two, you are forced to leave the town. Male or female it doesn't matter, you are sent to the forgotten temples of Carsiline to bring the head of a monster home. Some call them temple trolls; others think of them as demons. They are incredibly tall, with hard white skin and can see in the dark. Not everyone who leaves on their adventure returns home, and no one in the town holds their breath. If you die, you are not considered worthy. The lucky ones that do make it back are thought to have transitioned into adulthood. They are the chosen ones.

Unfortunately, I am an outcast in this town. Normally, the village puts on a feast and parties late into the night. But this year I am the only one turning twenty-two, and no one would dare celebrate. When I was younger, my much older brother Jonas turned twenty-two. In my parents’ eyes, he was their golden child. But he never came back, and our family descended into the hell it was now. I knew none of it was my fault, but that didn’t stop my drunk father from taking everything out on me. In his violent states he would spread lies about me, making everyone push me away further until eventually people looked the other way whenever they saw me coming. No one was interested in the younger brother of the failed Jonas. After all, if he couldn’t make it back from the trolls, what hope did I have?