Shen hurried through the corridors of the boys’ dormitory, his sword in the sheath at his side. Stepping outside he strode along the covered walkway, not seeing the familiar sights of the many buildings of the Saripa Arena, with its living and training areas. He barely acknowledged the good mornings from the other students also headed towards the training hall. Today he officially turned fifteen. Old enough he could leave this Arena and travel the Battle Circuit. He’d waited for this moment for what felt like forever.
He automatically rubbed his fingers across the medallion that hung on a leather cord around his neck. The only tie to his past. He vaguely recalled faces, but nothing that could help him find them. Other than the medallion, he knew as the ‘Mark of Kings’, he had no idea who
