Chapter One: when ice met fire
what a shame we all became such fragile broken things / a memory remains / just a tiny spark / i give it all my oxygen / to let the flames begin
- Let the Flames Begin - Paramore
The school walls were white, bland like the uniforms the Peacekeepers wore. For Glory, the colours were comforting, the colours of her parents, of her shining hair, and of her brother's matching curls. She fisted her hands in her pockets, grateful that she'd been allowed to wear the boy's uniform, despite her mother's earlier protests. Next to her, Vic was tapping his fingers against his legs, restless as always. Reaching out a hand, she stilled his movements with a soft touch and a simple nod of her head. His green eyes slid over to look at her, before he rolled them away with a sigh, his movements stopping. Glory looked straight ahead and laced her fingers with his.
"And that children, is why it is important to uphold the pride and glorious history of District Two," the principal was saying, gesturing widely with his fat arms. Glory unwillingly glanced at his ruddy face, counting the number of chins that jiggled as he spoke.
She wondered how much food he ate in a day, when there were families at the edge of the district that ate next to nothing. Being fat was luxury in any district, she knew that much. Vic squeezed her hand, and the two of them kept looking straight ahead, even as the principal dismissed them to their first day of classes.
"I don't want to be here," Vic said lowly, pulling his hand out of Glory's to cross his arms. His eyes were narrowed and a blonde curl fell in front of his face, slightly ruining the menacing aura he was giving off.
"We'd both rather be at home, but an education will do us well," she said, quoting their father's words from that morning. "Besides, if we don't go to school, what'll we do?"
"Train for the Games," Vic replied, throwing his hands up in the air as they made their way through the bland hallways. "Sculpt things, learn to work in the quarries! Anything but reading and writing," he moaned as they turned a corner towards the first grade classrooms.
"We're seven Victor," Glory said dryly, her voice monotonous as they joined their classmates. "We can't compete in the Games just yet," she finished, crossing her arms with a shiver. She still had nightmares of a boy smashing a girl's head to smithereens with a boulder from last year's Games.
"I can dream, can't I?" Victor muttered, sinking down into a desk as the teacher began to speak. Despite her brother's violent tendencies, Glory opened her mouth to reply quietly that sleeping was the time for dreaming, when their teacher, a tall thin woman with a pointed face and a severe hairstyle, glared at the two of them.
"Would you show me a little respect and stop talking?" she snapped, beady eyes staring down the length of her nose at the twins. Victor leaned back in his seat narrowing his green eyes, while Glory only looked onward impassively, meeting the teacher's expression. The twins sat in complete silence, staring at the woman until her face faltered, her eyebrows furrowing together.
"You must be Julian and Lyra's twins," she said haltingly, picking up a tablet and flicking through the attendance. "Glory and Victor Caesar," she said dryly, blinking at them.
"I'm Victor," Glory said, crossing her arms and lowering her voice slightly. Vic's mouth stretched into a grin and he winked at the teacher.
"Glory," he said, kicking his small feet up onto the desk.
The teacher set the tablet down and crossed the classroom until she was standing in front of the identical children. Her eyebrows scrunched together forming a mockery of a unibrow as she regarded them. "I don't stand for any interruptions in my classroom Mr. And Miss Caesar," she began, addressing them as the opposite twin, "If you continue to disrupt this learning environment, I will separate you."
"You can try," Vic said softly, pulling his feet off the desk, "But my brother and I aren't easily separated."
"Mother says we've never been more then ten feet apart since we were born," Glory added monotonously, looking at the teacher expressionlessly. "In seven years, no one has broken that record."
Victor smiled widely at the teacher, wiggling a tooth with his tongue at her. Her pointed face contorted into a disgusted expression, and she strode back to the front of the classroom, shaken by the creepy twins and their identical faces.
"Now, we will begin with the alphabet," she said, her voice squeaking slightly. There were a few snickers from other children, and one single glare from over her shoulder silenced them. Victor smiled at Glory in triumph, while she blinked at him impassively.
The morning passed slowly, with the introduction of meaningless letters and numbers that jumbled inside of Glory's head. Still, she sat up straight and listened, dutifully copying each letter as the teacher spoke. She ignored her brother and his restless fingers and feet, tapping without rhythm on the desk the long of the class. When the teacher announced recess, he was the first one up, grabbing her hand and dragging her out into the yard.
"There's got to be something good in here," he groaned, ripping open their lunch bags. Grabbing his sandwich with a wide grin, he bit into it savagely while Glory nibbled on her crust.
"Hey twerps," a voice called as loud crunching footsteps approached. Glory turned her head towards the sound, white-blonde curls bouncing as she moved. Walking towards her was a tall and slightly imposing fellow student. The knees of his uniform were ripped and stained, and a rather impressive grass stain lined his arms, while two bright blue angry eyes peered out from under a layer of dirt.
"What's up mud-man?" Vic replied, his mouth full of sandwich. Glory watched as the boy came closer, standing over the two of the twins with his arms crossed. His blonde hair fell in his eyes and she wondered how he could see from under the mushroom cut.
"Gimme your lunch," the boy ordered, stretching a hand out. "Or I'll beat you up."
Sighing, Glory took another bite out of her sandwich, ignoring the dirty boy and his sky-blue eyes.
"I'd like to see you try," Vic snarled, the effect ruined slightly by his seven-year old voice. The other boy laughed and made a fist with one hand, punching it into his other hand.
"Don't you know who I am?" he said, a smirk growing wider on his face as he looked back and forth at the twins. Glory looked up at him, unimpressed and impassive as she ate her sandwich.
"I don't really care," she replied, shrugging slightly. The boy's smirk faltered slightly, while Vic began laughing uncontrollably. "You're dirty," she added, pointing to his clothing.
"So? I don't need a bath," the boy shot back, crossing his arms and growing slightly red.
"You smell weird too,"
The boy's eyebrows creased together and he stuck out his bottom lip. "You're small and skinny. I could break you if I wanted to,"
"This isn't the Hunger Games," Vic said, suddenly serious. His voice though high-pitched, was suddenly carrying a threat underneath his words. He stood up and glared up at the taller boy. "And you better not hurt my sister."
The boy looked suddenly taken aback and blinked at the twins. "I thought you were both boys,"
"My name is Glory," she said, not meeting his eyes and still eating her sandwich calmly. "And that's Victor."
"Cato Locke," the boy said, stepping forward, "And I still want your lunches."
"You could have just asked nicely," she said, closing her eyes and finishing off her sandwich. "But you wasted all that time bullying us, so there's nothing left for you."
The boy – Cato – narrowed his eyes at her. "I been running this yard since last year when I was just a kiddie. I'm older an' bigger then you both, so you better gimme what you have left," he said, stretching his hand out towards the twins again.
"There ain't no way you're getting our lunches," Vic said, crouching down and shovelling all his food in his mouth.
"I'll be back tomorrow, an' you better have food for me," Cato said, retracting his arm and glaring at the twins. "I rule this playground."
Vic uttered some sort of obscenity through his food-stuffed mouth, while Glory ate on impassively, not even looking up to watch Cato walk away and begin harassing other students for food.
The next day however, Cato found a package with his name on it waiting in the same spot on the ground. Inside was a half a sandwich and a note written in shaky handwriting.
For Cato
My mom helped me write this. Please eat this and stop being meen to me and Vic. Mom knows about your mom and that you mite not eat lots. We do not have lots but you can have this. Just ask nicly next time.
Glory
