I do not own Hunger Games, nor any of the characters, places or items it includes. I do not want to infringe on any ownership laws, but simply honour Suzanne Collins with my ideas, which were inspired by her splendid story.
This disclaimer is valid for any chapter posted under this title.
Panem.
The nation constantly plagued with turmoil, war and destruction...
But with it came adaptation and regrowth.
No matter how many different names it took upon itself, change seemed to be a constant factor in those troubled lands, locked in the cycle between the downfall and glory.
The Dark Days, for instance. Marking the end of one era, they weren't as swift as future generations made them to be. The change in the power itself would be enough to give any historian a headache.
Still, to understand the future, it is required to know the past. You have to know the previous state of matter, to appreciate all the subtle changes in your daily lifestyle. Without the knowledge of the past, everything would appear to stay at a standstill, not changing one bit. Without it, neither now, nor the future, would seem clear or even meaningful.
That's why it's paramount and really, logical to start at the start of the cycle.
When the smoke cleared and the Dark Days came to an end, revealing smouldering wreckage of the previous kingdom, there wasn't a single power rising to lead the survivors. The war which resulted in near complete destruction of an entire culture began once more, descending into a series of mind games, blackmails, intrigues and murders.
The previous superpower reverted into medieval times, with mad lords of barren wastelands squabbling over what was left on the table, and scared, tormented warriors roaming the land, joining anyone who gave them even an illusion of purpose.
Slowly, but surely, the already dying country slipped further into darkness. It's illness furthered but those few blinded by the glorious prospect of ruling a tabula rasa, shaping it into their own image.
It was only when one of the warring groups backed away completely, that someone noticed two things. One was that the conflict simply couldn't escalate any further, or even last any longer, or there wouldn't be anyone left to rebuild. Second was that there wasn't much more needed in those times, to break someone's will.
With that thought in mind, the self proclaimed king locked himself away and started to plot a plot that would save the land, but damn the citizens.
Time passed, with the leader keeping to himself, seemingly too tired to play the old game. In reality, he secretly sold everything valuable he could find in his land, swaying every single person able to fight to join his cause. When he finally reappeared to stand before the army he amassed, he had only one command to give.
"Bring me their children," he said to them, before returning to his keep, because that was enough to change the course of history.
Days passed one after the other, until they turned into weeks. During that time more and more children simply vanished from the face of the earth. When finally a full month passed, the concerned parents learned the gruesome truth.
Give up.
That was the message sent across the continent.
Give up, for there is no hope. None, if we continue this way.
For every day you linger, your children will fight over crumbs and leftovers, just like you are over this barren earth, showing you the only way this conflict can end. It will continue as long as necessary, or until none of them remain...
At first no one believed, and no lord cared enough for their own people to listen to the initial warning. That changed when the body parts started to come in like clockwork. Then, all the resources that were used to strive for power, were suddenly turned against those that craved for it so much. Revolts, riots and chaos blackened the skies with smoke.
The terrifying message rang true across the country, and the nation nearly killed itself, attempting to bow before the blood-stained king. Twenty three days. The span of time from when the message was sent, and the moment the nation was on its knees. Twenty three deaths that would change everything.
The king had won, but he was far from pleased.
Having everyone at his beck and call wasn't enough for him. He had to be certain that they would be subservient until the ends of time. That's why he carved his lands into twelve pieces, demanding that each and every year, on the day the first children were taken, a boy and a girl were presented.
Those twenty four would recreate the first massacre, fighting amongst each other. He, as a righteous ruler, would spare the last one. That was the cost for peace. A bargain prolonged every year by the spilled blood.
No one dared to rebel, because they were made sure that the Games would still be held. If that happened, instead of taking two children from every district, the district that stepped out of line would provide all the participants.
And so was the origin of Panem.
The troublesome land was dealt with, shackled and put under the control of a single man. Peace was restored, with a bloody guardian keeping watch.
The deal.
The bloody ritual.
The Hunger Games had begun.
AN. Had the idea for this story for quite some time now, but there was always something else keeping me busy. Now, that the Hunger Games movie came out, I decided that it is a perfect opportunity to start this story. I don't know how often this story will be updated, but this prologue is a promise that this story will be completed.
Our Dancing Days, the one who introduced me to the Hunger Games, agreed to help me make this story as good as it can possibly be. I thank her for that, and the fact that she recomended the book to me... even though it gave me couple of sleepless nights.