I was 7 when they let me officially start my training. Everyone else in the facility was at least 8, but not me; I wanted to win from the start. I was placed in the Girls Under 10 skill class, but I knew this was only temporary. The older girls hated me, hated the way I could easily dodge their heavy-handed blows, hated the praise the trainers had for my knife skills. Hated my guts. But their envy didn't bother me; I strutted around the centre like I was 6 feet tall instead of 4 foot 7, smirking at whoever crossed my path.
When I was 9, I couldn't take it anymore. I was wasting my time and talent in my skill class, with all those clumsy children who wouldn't survive a minute in the Games. I asked the trainers to let me train with the big kids. They acknowledge that I was special, but it evidently bothered them that I was small and would easily get crushed by the 11 and 12 year olds. Needless to say, I was angry.
After a month of me lashing out at whoever I was up against, I had found the solution to my problems. I had always known that the Boys Under 10 skill class's training centre was in the same building as the girls' in the facility. On one of my days off, I snuck into the boys' training centre out of curiosity. It fascinated me; the boys underwent an extremely rigorous training program, complete with the latest in District 2 weaponry. Every few minutes, one of them would report an injury: fractured ribs, broken noses and even impalements by arrows and spears. The trainers for my skill class limited us to knives and bows and refused to let us do any real damage to our sparring opponents. How pathetic.
And that was when I saw her: Enobaria. I knew about her, the way she could rip her opponents throats open with her teeth terrified me. She was overseeing the training, shouting orders and making degrading comments at the boys. Before I could run, she spotted me and stalked over, suddenly smiling in a way that exposed her cosmetically altered gold-tipped teeth.
"Clove," she said simply, her voice sharp and jarring. I froze, how did she know my name?
"Yes… yes, ma'am," I spluttered, finding it thoroughly unsettling to make eye contact with her.
"I've heard about you. The little girl who wants to play with the big kids." Her taunting manner made my skin crawl.
"I'm not a little girl," I replied. This was Enobaria, Games legend, I couldn't afford to let her see me as a weakling.
"Ahh, a little spitfire, aren't you?" Her eyes gleamed with fascination. "Tell me, Clove, what are you doing here?"
I knew that Enobaria wasn't an ordinary trainer. Judging by the treacherous way she trained her skill class, she didn't care for the trivial rules and regulations set by the facility.
"I want to… I want to train under you, Enobaria."
She didn't even look surprised.
"Understandable. But you see, I train boys. Are you a boy, Clove?"
"No… No, but I can fight as well as one."
Her smile widened. Wrong move, Clove.
"I see. Perhaps we can test that theory." Her gaze swept over the training centre, appraising each of her students. "Cato! Come over here for a moment."
A muscular and tall blonde boy wielding a lethal-looking spear strode over, confidence emanating from his every movement. The other boys stopped for a second to watch, their expressions a mix of admiration and curiosity. I registered almost immediately that this boy was probably at the top of his skill class.
Some of the boys seemed to notice my presence for the first time, and started to stare, no doubt wondering what my purpose was in their centre. Cato, on the other hand, paid me no heed and addressed Enobaria directly.
"Yes, Enobaria?"
His voice was low for his age, and carried a distinct quality: Arrogance.
"Put away your spear, Cato. Do you not see we have a visitor?"
Cato turned to me and glanced at me for the first time. It was disconcerting to feel his gaze travelling over my body, sending pinpricks down my spine. I fought to control my breathing.
"She doesn't belong here," he said quietly. It was less of a statement than a question. What is a girl doing in our training sessions?
"You will do well to treat others with courtesy, child. Clove here wants to join our little group. What do you think?"
His gaze met mine for a brief moment before returning to Enobaria's.
"She looks weak."
He said it quietly, but I knew it was meant for my ears too. Anger surged inside me and I suppressed the urge to punch his teeth out. I may have been small, but I was stronger than kids twice my size.
"Does she? Tell you what, Clove," she turned to me, her smile evolving into a malicious grin, "If you can take down Cato in hand-to-hand fight, I'll make sure you have a place with me."
Comprehension dawned on me. This was what Enobaria was planning from the start. Nothing like a match between a little girl and her best fighter to spice up her day. But I was no quitter; Cato would pay for underestimating me.
"I'll do it."
I could tell Cato was slightly taken aback; perhaps he was starting to suspect that I was not all I appeared to be.
Enobaria led us to the sparring ring. It was a simple rectangular circle drawn onto the floor of the centre marked by sharp white lines. To win a spot as Enobaria's pupil, I only had to knock Cato out of the ring.
We stood on opposite ends of the ring. By then, everyone in the skill class had realized what was going on and gathered around us to witness the spectacle. As per my training, I studied my opponent.
Focus, Clove. His strength is definitely in his size. His arms carry the bulk of the muscle, probably more of a puncher than a kicker. Weak spot is his head, the rest of him won't even feel my hits. He's big, so he's not fast. I can move faster than him, probably have to dodge most of his attacks. If only I could-
Too late. The bell chimed.
Cato hurled himself at me. I dodged swiftly. He looked vaguely shocked for a second, but quickly launched his second attack. I dodged again.
This was going better than expected. At least I hadn't been sent flying out of the ring. Yet.
Cato edged closer and attempted a punch. I ducked. As he registered his shock, I landed a kick squarely on his chest before dodging his next punch.
This was how the match continued. He would attempt a strike which I would quickly dodge, occasionally allowing me to retaliate without doing him much damage at all. We edged around the ring, slowly tiring each other out. After a minute in the ring, there was no clear winner.
But then the scales tipped.
"CLOVE! What is going on here?"
Shite. I recognized that voice anywhere. It looked like Madelaine, my trainer, had decided to pay a visit to the Boys Under 10 Skill Class.
"Enobaria! Stop this match at once! Clove is just a girl!"
Again I felt anger brewing inside me, pumping adrenaline in my blood. I wanted to prove myself; I wasn't just a girl.
But it was too late. I had allowed my mind to wander long enough for Cato to land a punch in my rib cage. He sent me flying backwards, my heels almost touching the white edges of the ring.
He zoned in on me and for a second I felt terrified. The feelings of shame and disappointment of my imminent defeat washed over me and I braced myself to take the blow that would no doubt leave me with broken bones.
I allowed myself to meet his intense gaze, subconsciously admiring the ferocity of his spirit.
He hesitated.
It was almost as if there was an invisible wall between us. His clenched fist hovered in this air between us, frozen in motion. I watched his eyes, calculative, as if he was weighing his options. Then he looked at Madelaine and sucked in his breath.
I watched in incredulity as he let his fist drop and backed away from my braced form. With slow, calculated steps, he walked out of the ring and did not stop until he walked out of the centre and out of my sight.
"Well, well, it looks like we have a winner."
Enobaria's statement brought me out of my trance. She was right; I had won.
Cato had let me win.
Thank you for reading! (:
This is my first Clato and I must say, I really enjoyed writing it. More chapters to come, so stay tuned, dear reader!
Also, please review! It would make me extremely happy!