The Tournament of Champions

Prologue

The Institution of Magical arts is a place where your dreams will either come true or be crushed.
Right now I am standing in the entrance of the institution, hoping I will be lucky enough to get a spot in the Tournament of Champions, if you win the tournament you get a lifetime of fame and fortune, but if you lose you get exiled, you’re only exiled if you’re last and unfortunately only four people compete per year so the chances of being last are pretty high.
My lifetime goal is to win the Tournament of Champions it would really help my family to buy a new house, we live in a hut at the top of a hill, we all have our own rooms, but it’s still kind of small.
In the institution there are two hallways, one to the left and on to the right off the entrance hall, other then that there are a couple benches and the secretary’s desk.
“Penny Cooper,” calls the secretary.
I start walking towards the front desk.
“Hi, my name is Penny Cooper,” I say when I get there.
“Ah, the Tournament of Champions, good luck,” she says as she hands me a piece of paper.
“Uh, thanks?”
I walk down the left hallway to the office at the very end like the piece of paper says and knock on the door.
“Come in,” says a hoarse voice from the other side of the door.
I open the door and walk in, inside the room there is an old man sitting at a desk, the man’s hair is white and blading and his skin is very wrinkled, he is wearing a lab coat and there’s a stethoscope around his neck. In the room there is also a twin sized bed in the corner with a guy around fourteen, my age sitting on it.
“Go lie on your back on the bed please, Asher, please move,” says the older man. So I go lie face up on the bed, what is going on?
“So you must be Penny Cooper,” says the older man spinning around in his chair.
“Yep, that’s me, and before you ask I am here for the Tournament of Champions.”
“Well then, let us begin,” he says while summoning a notepad from his desk. “Hair colour?”
“Blonde,” what is the point of this?
“Eye colour?”
“Green,” what is with these questions?
“I want to win for my family so we can move out of that hut,” I reply.
“Ok, so why do you think you should be allowed to compete?”
“Because I’ll face any challenge you throw at me and I will not lose, not when there are people who might need my help.”
“Well, you look physically capable and you sound mentally capable… Asher, what do you think?”
“I say let her compete, but of course it isn’t my decision,” says the younger guy standing next to the bed.
“You will receive an owl in the morning with your results,” says the man at the desk.