Chapter 1 – The Training Center
As the elevator doors open, Aqua and I step into the large room that will become our final training grounds. "Don't worry. Everyone in here is scared," I whisper to her. I'm not sure if I can even sense fear in her. All I know is that I need to calm my own nerves. "Not him," she stutters, looking across the room at one of our fellow tributes. There, at one of the weapon stations, stands a terrifyingly large boy. He must be at least 6'3" and he looks to be built like a tank. His blonde hair has darkened from the sweat he's worked up from training, the muscles in his arms defined and rippling. If I had to guess, he's been here for at least an hour prior to our arrival. Everything about him is intimidating, right down to his sculpted jawline and strikingly masculine demeanor. His eyes look determined and his gaze is ruthless. Aqua gives me a playful shove when she notices I've been staring for a bit too long. Shoving her back, I can feel myself blushing, but quickly recover. It comes to no surprise to me when I notice that the number on his tightly fit shirt was one. He's a career tribute, like Aqua and me. This became apparent as we watch him hurl multiple spears directly into a training dummy from over twenty yards. "Don't worry. Like I said on the train, I'll protect you for as long as I possibly can," I try to reassure her.
The other tributes are not very talkative. Although, when you know you might be dead in a week, there isn't much point in making friends. They'll only hold you back. Despite knowing we both can't make it out alive, Aqua and I stick together for training. We have agreed that one of us has to win, and that we'll each do everything in our power to make sure that happen.
First up is the ranged weapon training. We both take pride in being two of the best ranged fighters back home. My strengths shine when I have a knife in my hand. I've got an amazing arm. My throwing is top tier. It's what I'm best at- staying silent and taking things out quickly- I don't like prolonging the agony of a kill. I'm also an amazing fisherman and hunter. I had taken down sharks bigger than these kids. After all, that's what gave me my name.
Back in District 4, those of us chosen to go into senior training are given a nickname sometime in our first year. The name represents an event that all of the trainers associate us with. My birth name is Matthew Calisto. This changed immediately one remarkably sunny day, about halfway through our first year of training. Aqua, myself, and another training candidate, Blythe, were taking a break from practicing with tridents to dive and explore some of the coral reefs. Being underwater has always been an amazing experience for me. That day was especially calm. The shortage of fish should have alerted us to some kind of danger. But none of us paid much attention to the fish, or lack thereof, that day. In a world of cerulean waves and reefs, larger predators do not become visible until they are within your general vicinity. We know to be careful and stick together, but we all felt particularly adventurous that day, and we split up to swim around the giant coral structures.
As I was swimming around one of the reefs, I notice Blythe frantically swimming towards the surface. I thought she might just want to go back to the training center. When I saw the piercing blue of the ocean fade into a light crimson that I knew something was wrong. I glided through the water, around the reef, to come face to face with a fully grown mako shark, with a stream of blood trailing behind it. I was quick to reach for my knife, and as the shark swam past me, grazing my flesh with it's rough skin, I thrust the blade into its side and it's forward movement does the rest. My blade exits from the tail of the shark, and another, wider, trail of blood follows. I grab the shark as well as Aqua and head for the surface to find a rescue boat was there to help her with the wound. It was only a small bite on her left leg, but it created uproar at the training center. From that day on, the name granted to me was Mako Calisto. The swift and cunning shark is a perfect representation for who I am and how I fight. That mako might have been the first shark I killed to defend a friend, but it was nowhere near the last. But sharks didn't have weapons, and they didn't have the incentive of fame and fortune to drive them. I may have been able to take them out, but the kids in this room with me are a whole different story. They're not going to go down without a fight. So, while I have the chance to, I'm prepared to show them who they're dealing with.
I grab a handful of knives and take a step up to the white line etched on the floor marked with twenty-five yards. Strapping the knives onto my belt, I whistle loudly, causing an echo throughout the center. I want the other tributes to see this. I want them to know that just because I'm small for a Career, I'm no one to mess with. I get a feel for each blade, determining the force and angle I'll need for my throws. Lightly grasping each knife, I swiftly hurl them towards the training dummies, in a swirling dance of blades. They fly through the air so fast that only their rotations, cutting through the air, can be heard throughout the room. The knives aren't visible until the dummies have knives protruding from multiple places: their hearts, temples, and jugulars. The room is silent, aside from a couple of small gasps from the other tributes. I feel the right side of my mouth curve up into the condescending smirk I've now become known for in the Capitol. I turn around and turn my head towards the gamemakers. My whistle had drawn their attention in as well. Many give affirming nods and chatter with their colleagues with what seem to be impressed looks. With a slight bow, I turn away and walk towards the dummies and retrieve my knives.
Aqua, on the other hand, has a very different approach. She steps up to the archery station. Being her training partner for the past six years has given me an uncanny familiarity with her abilities. Many of the other tributes look oddly at her. A few murmur to each other, I hear a scoff. They're underestimating her, which is her greatest strength. I wouldn't think Aqua would head to grab a bow so quickly. She never gives away her strengths right away. I knew she had a plan. She looks towards me and gives a slight wink, which always meant she was up to something incredible. It's just that, the word incredible would be me underestimating her as well. Aqua, bow in hand, making her way to the obstacle course, puts her hands to her lips and whistles loudly, just as I had. She looks back towards me and sticks her tongue out. I give a breathy chuckle and stop myself in the middle of a smile; I still have my confident and apathetic vibe to withhold. By the time I realize she's at the obstacle course, ready to dodge trainers swinging bats at her, she's already on top of the starting platform.
She is better than even I remember her being with that bow. From the obstacle course, about thirty yards from the projectile dummies, she shoots six arrows directly into each of them, while evading the swinging swords of the trainers. As she jumps between platforms, dodging swords, I can almost make out a smirk on her face, similar to the one I made.
At that point, it hits me. She isn't trying to prove anything to the other tributes. She's trying to one-up me. Her movements are so graceful, exactly how I remember her being all those years of training. We had both trained under one of the most skilled Career assassins in our district. She and I know how to make our way around without causing a panic, sometimes not getting noticed at all. We're so much alike that people often ask if she's my twin sister. Being best friends before we were chosen to train for the games was a breath of fresh air in training. We always have each other's back, but I can't help but worry about how long our friendship will hold itself together in the arena.
She hops down from the platform and places the bow back on its rack, across the room. The other tributes follow her with wide eyes. Some filled with pure disgust, others with subtle admiration for her abilities. She just set the bar for how skilled the rest of us need to be. I can't help but gulp down an inkling of fear myself. I've never seen her do anything that impressive.
"Let the games begin," I hear a girl from District 2 say, under her breath.