My first fanfic. Let's see how this goes. :)

Chapter 1

Sion Glass POV

I blink my eyes a few times, squinting at the bits of circuitry in my hands. It's nearly morning, now. I've been up all night building things, orders from the others in District 3.

My mom calls, "Sion, breakfast!" I know she's been up for at least an hour. It's the reaping today, and we're all required to be there no matter what. At least it's my second-to-last year, and I haven't had to take out any tesserae. My earnings have been enough to provide for us.

I reply. "Be down in a second!" I carefully twist two wires together before flipping a power switch, and smile as the motor whirs to life. That's one part done, anyway. It'll take ages to finish, but hopefully it'll sell for a lot. The mayor's daughter loves my mechanical toys, and she's spoiled rotten. Her father will never deny her anything she wants, no matter the price.

I flip a small blanket over the clockwork bird, turning it back off, and walk down the stairs. The smell of bread floods my mouth with water. I haven't eaten for at least twelve hours. Ravenously, I dig in, stuffing pieces in my mouth. It's very good.

My mom and I are ready to go before long. I'm dressed in an old, faded suit, and she's in a blue dress. My younger brother Chio is in a similar suit to mine- he's turning fourteen this year, so he's pretty scared. We all have to dress up for the reapings, though I think it makes the worry even worse. I shuffle my feet impatiently- I can't wait for this ordeal to be over so that I can finally get back to my work.

We walk out the door together, joining the river of humanity flowing towards the reaping square. A few twelve-year-olds from my apartment building, looking terrified, hide behind their parents. It's unlikely they'll be picked, though. Despite our poverty, none of us are quite poor enough to need tesserae.

We finally make it to the square. I walk over to the section marked out for seventeen-year-olds, and greet a few of my friends. We're laughing and joking, making fun of the scared children in the twelve- and thirteen-year-old sections, but we're all terrified too. Sweaty handshakes and nervous looks betray our true feelings.

Silence slams down on the square as soon as the Capitol people take to the stage. You could hear a pin drop. As they read the long Treaty and time drags on, I feel sweat begin to trickle down my back. It's so unlikely that I'll be called- I computed the probability a few days ago- but there's no denying the raw fear pulsing around the square.

The ridiculous spokesperson bounces up to the microphone. After a few empty phrases in the trademark Capitol accent, he begins the drawing. "Well, ladies first!" He plunges a hand into the ball filled with slips of paper, and pulls out one. The tension becomes palpable as he unfolds it, and reads a name.

"Tele Markov!"

A girl, looking confused and distracted, has to be pushed towards the stage before she realizes she's been called. I've seen her in school- she's only a year younger than me. She's supposed to be good at hacking, but I can't see how that would help her in the arena. In any case, I suppose it's none of my business.

As expected, there are no volunteers, and we move on to the boys. I feel my insides constrict, and nausea and sick apprehension roil in my stomach. "And now for the boys!" shouts the spokesperson, squinting at the paper.

"Sion Glass!"

I'm frozen for a second. That's my name. I look around, almost stupidly, before I feel my self-control slam down. I have to act calm and detached. They'll be watching even now. I walk up to the stage, emptying my face and mind of emotion. Statistically, victors are 30% as likely to win if the Capitol approves of the way they act at the reaping. I remind myself of these facts as I climb the stage, shaking hands. No tears. Tears are a sign of weakness.

There's no way anyone would ever volunteer, so of course no one does.

I keep telling myself this as I go through the heartfelt goodbyes. My mother comes in after my friends, and we just sit there for a minute. I know she's terrified, but she'll never let it show. All of us in the Glass family have always had good self-control, unlike our name might suggest. We're not transparent in the least.

Naturally, she doesn't bring Chio. He's never been able to suppress his emotions, and I don't know if I could keep this emotionless mask on if he were here, crying and hugging me. I don't know how to express my thanks, so I don't. She'll understand. Somehow, she always does.

After a few minutes, she pulls me into a brief, tight hug. She walks away, and I follow the Peacekeepers in the other direction. Neither of us looks back. We've said our goodbyes, and now I'll either survive or die.

As I walk, I can't help wishing that my father were here to say goodbye to me. He always knew what to say and what to do, and he could make everything seem better. But that was before the Peacekeepers took him away. Remembering that day now, I look from side to side at my guides and shiver a little. I can't bring myself to trust them and probably never will.

I'm bundled onto the train with the girl, Tele Markov. She still seems to be in shock- most likely, she won't last long in the Games. Though she's doing her best to be brave, anyone could see the tear stains on her face.

I look out the window of the train, filtering out the words of the spokesperson. That isn't nearly as important as planning. I have to anticipate the Arena, or I'm dead.

For some reason, the image of the broken clockwork bird filters to the top of my mind. Maybe it won't ever be finished now, and it'll eventually rust away to a pile of cogs and springs, leaving nothing.

Seneca Ward POV

We're watching the replay of the reapings now. My district is first, naturally. I hide my disgust at the antics of the girl who was reaped. I guess it was her bad luck to be reaped on a year when nobody who'd trained was interested in volunteering. Although I suppose she is attractive enough- blond hair and blue eyes are common in District 1.

I suppress a smile as I see myself walking up to the stage now. My father looks proud, sitting with the rest of the parents. I think he wants me to follow after the steps of my brother.

Virgil didn't have any trouble winning his Games, but then again, he's almost eight feet tall and can lift a table with one hand, I think a little bitterly. I'm not sure if I measure up. In fact, I'm almost certain that I don't.

I drag my mind away from those thoughts as Iridescence, the girl, giggles. This is a little surprising, as she was crying earlier. "I bet these Games will be a breeze, right, Seneca?" She grabs my arm and I bite back an irritable reply.

After a few seconds of composing myself, I present my best smile and nod. I can't really tell, but I think the mentors look just as disapproving as I feel.

Thankfully, it's almost time to go to sleep now. The train has been moving for a few hours, and we've just finished dinner.

The tributes from District 2 seem just as bloodthirsty as usual. The boy looks just like Virgil, and I push away a flash of apprehension. I've been training with a sword for thirteen years. He can't be better than me. The girl just seems to be a spoiled brat, but I have to admit that she has spirit.

District 3 are usually pretty ditzy, and I think this year will be the same as I see a shell-shocked girl walking towards the stage. She's pretty chubby, and she probably won't make it far.

I am forced to revise my opinion, though, by the boy. Although Iridescence brushes him off too, something about his eyes bothers me. He seems too collected, and he actually seems to be thinking, instead of freezing like a deer in the headlights. He could be a threat if I'm not careful. I file this away for future consideration.

District 4 is decent, as usual. Both are pretty quiet, but the girl seems to be much less of a threat than the guy- she looks like she could break if a stone hit her.

District 5 is the opposite. The guy isn't worth notice, but the girl looks pretty vicious. I wouldn't put it past her to gut me in my sleep.

District 6 didn't seem worth attention, but 7 had two decent tributes. The guy, at least, would probably survive a few days. Maybe a possible ally? There seemed to be many possibly threatening tributes this year.

I don't notice anything special about Districts 8, 9, 10, 11, or 12, so I decide that there's not much point in staying. I get up, hopefully unobtrusively, and make my way towards the door after the reapings have finished. Rest and relaxation will get me farther than any training, at least until we arrive at the Capitol.

Thanks for reading! Please rate and review if you have the time. :)