AN: Hi everyone, this story is a side-fic to my M rated story Blood Wars, a Hunger Games/Winx Club crossover story. If you haven't read that fic then you may find some of this confusing so I suggest you do and then come back. This fic will be rated T for begin with but this might change in future. I am still open to character or event suggestions, anything you'd like to see from the original reflected on in a little more detail etc let me know.

Thanks go to everyone who has read/reviewed/alerted BW, I really appreciate it :) and hope that you will enjoy this side-fic.

The Blood Wars: Revelations

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Winx Club or the Hunger Games, the belong to Iginio Straffi and Suzanne Collins respectively and I am not making any money out of this fan-fiction.

Chapter 1

The Mentor

"Two tributes may now win if they are both from the same District." Faragonda noticed the change in atmosphere immediately, because although that one line was a blessing for some, it was a curse for others. It was bad enough that she sat inside this one room, at a round table, watching the games unfold before her eyes but to have that announcement, come so out of the blue, just made the mentor sitting to her right, named Sybilla, snap. She threw her headgear to the desk as the screen before her marked two red crosses over Derrick and Galatea's faces, their vital signs gone and the word 'dead' written under their names.

Along the far wall, above the television screens showing the games current participants, were a series of photos in district order of those who remained. The others were faded out, the red crosses mirroring that on their screens. The large table was covered in touch screens, allowing the mentors to track their tributes progress, where they were in the arena, their vital signs and what materials they had at their disposal. All of it was important information and each screen was split in two.

On Faragonda's right she had Flora and on the left she had Helia. At the moment, she had been looking at the two of them, but Helia's recent encounters with other tributes made her focus on him the most while Flora and Musa, who had apparently teamed up, were doing fine at this point in time.

The silence that filled the room since Sybilla's sudden outrage slowly filled each and every corner until it felt like it would choke them all. No one checked their screens, no one looked to each other, some looked to the board and those who only had one tribute left stared at their half lit screens in silent memorial. Sybilla would now have to complete one of the hardest tasks that any of them had to, go down stairs to meet the bodies and organise their transport home to their families. A task that Faragonda had encountered too many times to mention during her years as a mentor and that she never hoped to complete again.

Both Flora and Helia, if they played their cards right, could come out alive and go home but there was still another formidable team in play.

"Well, well, well," a deep and dangerous voice spoke from across the room, making Faragonda raise her head in recognition, feeling the eyes of all the other mentors staring in her direction. The voice belonged to her nemesis, Professor Griffin, who, just days before the games began, had told her that working the crowd wouldn't win the games and that strength was all tributes needed. Now, with both teams alive, and two mentors to prove their strategy would work, the stakes were even higher. "Looks like it's down to you and me, Faragonda."

"I think you're forgetting my tributes as well," a deep male voice spoke to her left, it was Teredor, Layla and Nabu's mentor.

"Please," Griffin scoffed. "You should know that those two star crossed lovers have no chance of winning this."

"Yes they do!" He snapped, standing to his feet and slamming his hands on the desk so hard the screens flickered for a moment. "And they will."

"Playing to the crowd will only get you so far," Griffin explained. "If your tributes can't win without gifts then they are as good as dead the moment they step into the arena." Teredor leaned forwards and pointed in the witches' direction.

"You better watch your tongue," he warned and Griffin laughed as she crossed her arms and leant backwards.

"You know the betting agencies haven't listed any of your tributes, even Flora with her high score hasn't been picked up and the only gift she received was a hand me down from Quantum."

Zarathustra remained silent, though she wanted to blast the arrogant witch into oblivion.

"You know I'm right."

"No you aren't," Faragonda explained, looking down to her screens and earning Griffins gaze.

"Oh really?"

"Yes really, how much screen time have your tributes received? Hardly any, the only time they are ever shown is when they are about to kill someone right, that's the only time. No one has seen Bishop on screen for a good few days now."

"What are you getting at?"

"I'm just saying that Teredor's tributes, my own, Mirta, Musa, Galatea and Derrick with their so called 'soft' qualities are what win screen time from Magix. They are the ones who will reap the benefits of any sponsors and who will be remembered far beyond this arena for years to come. Not yours."

"Why you little!"

"BANG!"

Every time the canon sounded Faragonda's heart skipped a beat. It had skipped about three hundred since she first became a mentor and she had heard that sound too many times to remember the exact figure. At one point, after becoming Linphea's only remaining victor, she used to count them. The tributes that not only she but her other mentors had lost over the years. But now she realised that it was hopeless, that there was no way that she could count them all, could relive their deaths over and over again.

The glass of water on Faragonda's desk jumped again as another cannon blast punctuated the silence. Everyone's eyes turned to their screens, wondering whose had been crossed out, who was dead. Then they looked to the wall on the far side and watched Teredor's two tributes, Layla and Nabu, fade from existence.

Griffin crossed her arms and laughed making the mentor from Tides snap. He lunged forwards, threatening to strangle the witch with his bare hands, to kill her, but the soldiers were already inside. They took a hold of his arms and, with a tazer shot, dragged him outside unconscious while the other mentors, still shaken by the sudden turn of events, watched with wide eyes. Faragonda didn't follow and instead redirected her attention to Flora and Helia, whose vital signs showed that their hearts had stopped as well. Their blood pressure had risen with the sudden shock of two canon blasts so close together.

She looked back to the screen to see Musa stumble, to trip as Flora tried to console her. Then the argument. Griffin placed her hands behind her head, listening in on their verbal joust while Faragonda sat quietly, ears tuned to their voices. Musa had made a good point, if she was in the arena she would have probably done the same thing, wondered why her ally hadn't killed her yet. But what Flora said next made her proud. Prouder than all of the tributes that had gone before and fallen to the games ways.

"I am not going to change myself for someone else's amusement." She wasn't falling for the charade, of playing up to the crowd, of wearing fake wedding bands or lying and cheating her way through. She was being true to herself, something difficult to do when every decision you made could end up killing you.

"So Faragonda," Griffin smiled, watching the television screen change to show the hosts sitting at their desk, highlighting key points so far and recapping who had died. "Our two teams are the only ones left now."

"So it seems," Faragonda replied, remaining strong as she watched Flora helping Musa on her monitor. "And we both know who will win."

Faragonda rubbed her temples with her thumb and forefinger, carefully circling around while the mentor to her left started chewing on their fingernails and Griffin sat in her usual position across from her. While most of the mentors looked stressed out, worried, panicked and thin, worry slowly carving their body into a corpse. Griffin showed none of it. Not a single trace of worry or sadness or anxiety. While Faragonda too had become numb to the loss of tributes, those whose lives have been cut short too soon, but she had never stopped feeling the knot in her stomach or the headache behind her eyes. The monitor in front of her suddenly started beeping as she checked Flora's blood pressure, slowly rising with every second. She turned to the screens, hitting herself for thinking about other things while her life was hanging in the balance. Musa ran forwards, used a shield, protecting her before running to her doom at one of Stella's attacks; then nothing but white.

A canon fired, and all mentors looked to their screens once more. This time she heard crying to her right. Professor DuFour sobbed, her shoulders shaking. Musa's face faded as the guards arrived to take her away. Griffin rubbed her hands together in anticipation but Faragonda ignored her and stood to her feet. She walked past the chairs and guards and took the younger mentor in her arms. DuFour shook; her breathing heavy and quick. Faragonda felt her every fibre of her being shivering against her.

"Thank you," she whispered, whishing she could say those words to Musa herself.

"Win this," DuFour whispered in return before looking to Griffin as the guards started pulling her arms away from her. "Beat that bitch." Faragonda smiled before they lead the District 7 mentor away down the hall.

"Look at that," the familiar voice pointed, making Faragonda turn to see what the cold hearted queen was talking about. Helia stumbled next to Flora and started checking her vitals, distress all over his face while Faragonda watched helplessly. "You didn't tell them to honestly work together did you?"

"Yes I did," she answered. "Because that's how they're going to win."

AN: Thanks for reading and please review. Miele will be the focus character for the next chapter if enough people want a second chapter.