Chapter III

I wasn't very impressed with the train ride.

The Capitol representative insisted that it had better accommodations than I could possibly imagine, but I felt like I've already seen it all when living in Victor's Village with the Odairs. Fancy silverware and rare delicacies spread out on silver platters, colorful drinks in crystal bottles, regularly cleaned furniture and state of the art appliances, it just didn't impress me as much as it would have when I first came to Panem. Then again, I'm just a slave who grew up on the Outside. What do I know?

I chose to ignore the two District Four tributes from that year (not out of spite, but because I did not want to get close to either of them due to the unlikelihood of their survival), and instead opted to either watch previous Games on the flat screen or read the little of Altair's Codex that was recovered and passed down to me and translated into modern language (Salacia said my grandfather told her to keep them until I finally met her).

There's one thing I didn't understand though; if the Codex was already assembled once hundreds of years ago, only to be separated again, then where were the rest of the pages? Were they all on this continent, or more likely, spread across the globe? Did the rest of the world even survive 2012 at all, or just America? If not, were the remaining Codex pages destroyed?

I shrugged as I figured that would be better, because the more I read about the Pieces of Eden from the pages I have, especially the Apple, the more I hope that these artifacts have not fallen into the wrong hands. I shuffled through the pages once more until I stopped at one that caught my intrigue:

The Ark of the Covenant

Before I could read more, I heard a knock on the door to my compartment.

"Soran?"

I quickly stored the Codex pages away under my pillow.

"Come in!" I called.

The door opened to reveal Annie.

"Hey," I greeted cheerfully.

She smiled weakly. "Hey."

This was Annie's first year of being a mentor after winning the previous Hunger Games. She was close to my age, with brown hair and green eyes, yet the eyes flashed something similar to regret or fear every time my own make contact with them. I suppose she must have developed some sort of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, which would explain some of her odd habits, such as covering her ears and staring off into space randomly. I felt bad for her, mostly because I can sympathize with the traumatic experiences she went through in the arena, and seeing her fellow tribute die is similar to how I was forced to watch some of my own loved ones die.

I was glad she had Finnick.

"What can I do for you?" I asked.

"Finnick wants to see you," Annie said.

"Okay, where?"

Annie remained silent, staring out my compartment window.

"Annie?"

"Hm? Oh, in the meal car."

I smiled. "Thanks."

So I made my way to the meal car, where I found Finnick sitting alone at a table.

"Lock the doors," he said.

I nodded and did as he told. After that, I walked to the table and sat down, taking an apple from the fruit bowl and noticing a briefcase on the floor next to my master's chair.

"You know that my birthday was five months ago, right?" I joked.

Finnick smirked as he brought the briefcase onto the table. "Think of it as a Happy Hunger Games present."

"Do they even give presents during the Hunger Games?" I asked quizzically.

"Just shut up and open the case," Finnick chuckled.

So I did. And what was inside of it caused my jaw to drop.

"No way," I muttered.

"It's about time, don't you think?" Finnick said.

Out of the case I pulled out a set of white robes. The hood was beaked like those of my ancestors, but the robes themselves looked more modernized, resembling a white jacket lined red on the inside and white jeans.

"The robes are made of re-engineered Kevlar," Finnick explained. "So they'll be more heavily resistant to gunfire and explosives, but you'll still be vulnerable to large bladed weapons and corrosive substances."

After laying the robes on the table, I noticed something else in the briefcase; two brown leather bracers. I took one out and laced it to my right arm. I flicked my wrist, and a small blade sprung out from the bracer, across the palm of my hand to just above the tip of my middle finger.

"Whoa," I breathed.

"Use these gifts wisely," Finnick said.

I nodded. "I will, brother."

Just then, an announcement rang throughout the train saying how we were approaching our destination. I looked out the window and I was quite taken aback.

The Capitol was definitely unlike any other city I've seen.

Well, of course that is coming from someone who grew up on the outskirts of post-apocalyptic Los Angeles and who's only seen District Four the five years he's been living in Panem, but still.

I mean, for starters, everything looked clean and sleek. All the buildings looked to be made of stainless steel or some other timeless material that could never corrode. And there were thousands of them, all stretching across the mountains in a never ending chain. I felt like once I was turned loose in the city, I would be lost for days, even weeks on end just while tracking a target.

Before we got off the train, I was told not to change into my Assassin robes immediately, but to wait until after the opening ceremony for the Games when I've received the list of Templar suspects from our contact.

"You'll know him when he says, 'it's a shame one can't find a pure breed of eagle anymore'," Finnick told me. "To which you will respond, 'yes, but breeds thought to be extinct will always find a method of rebirth.'"

I nodded. "Understood."

The stands surrounding the City Circle had nearly every colorfully dressed and primed citizen of the Capitol squeezed into it, all cheering and waiting for the tributes to be introduced for the public. To these people, this was just another event, an excuse to party, drink, gamble, and invest themselves in the survival of their favorite tributes.

They wouldn't react the same way if Capitol children competed.

I was wearing a rather simple white suit, standing in the Mentor's Box along with Finnick and Mags, another District Four victor who I believe to be mute. Whether from the Games or biological circumstances, I do not know.

"The fashion teams always have the tributes dress in motifs matching their District's industry," Finnick explained. "For example, I hear that the District Seven tributes will dress as trees."

"Like that's anything new," I heard from next to me.

I turned to see a man stagger over to the balcony with a glass of whiskey in hand. The man had unruly blond hair and looked (in addition to smelt) as if he hasn't bathed in weeks, or he did but just in nothing but alcohol.

"Hello Haymitch," Finnick greeted.

Haymitch just grunted.

"Soran, this is Haymitch Abernathy," Finnick introduced. "The mentor for District Twelve and victor of the 50th Hunger Games."

I held out my hand for Haymitch to shake, but he didn't take it.

"I haven't seen you around here before," Haymitch commented.

"I serve the Odair family," I said. "This is my first year accompanying Finnick to the Capitol."

Haymitch laughed bitterly. "So you're a slave huh?"

"…Officially, yes," I agreed.

"However, he's been my friend for years," Finnick added.

Haymitch smirked. "Maybe you should have him take up your night time appointments in your place. That can be handy."

I raised my eyebrow. "Night time-"

"Oh look, the tributes are arriving," Finnick interrupted quickly.

We watched as the chariots containing the tributes made their way into the Circle. The noise the crowd made was deafening, to the point where one could probably hear it over the mountain range. It was then that my eyes wandered up to the podium towering over where the chariots stopped. Standing at it was a man dressed in an extravagant black suit with a single white rose in one of the pockets. The man had completely white hair and beard, and was waving out into the crowd.

"So that's President Snow," I muttered.

Haymitch heard me. "You kidding me? You've never seen the president before?"

I shrugged. "I've only heard of him by word of mouth."

And now I knew what he looked like in case I had to kill him one day.

After the ceremony, we started exiting the box. However, I stopped outside the elevator when I caught sight of the Panem flag. It had the symbol of a golden eagle laid out across a red banner.

It was an insult to my family, that these tyrannical bastards used this symbol of freedom and peace. I had every impulse to just set that flag on fire and loudly proclaim my disdain for the Capitol and call for war. Fortunately, I was smarter than that.

"Admiring the national emblem?"

A middle aged man stopped next to me and looked up at the flag as well.

"I was just thinking that the animal depicted on it could be put to a better use," I said.

"Ah yes," the man agreed. "It's a shame one can't find a pure breed of eagle anymore."

My ears perked. This was the guy I was supposed to meet!

"Yes, but breeds thought to be extinct will always find a method of rebirth."

The man smiled and shook hands with me. "Plutarch Heavensbee. I take it you're the novice the Odairs took under their wing."

"Yes sir."

"Alright then, I am happily obliged to give you this."

He handed me a data pad, which I took and started to scroll through.

"These are the suspects we've been digging up information on for the last few years," Heavensbee whispered. "Over the next few days, tail each one of these people and see if they are connected to the Templars. Then, once the games start and after you find out their plans, take them out. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir," I answered, tucking the data pad into my inside jacket pocket.

Having been separated from District Four, I had to ask for which floor of the Training Center they were staying on, which turned out to be the fourth floor.

I should have seen that one coming.

Feeling slightly embarrassed, I entered one of the elevators.

"Hold it!"

I turned to see a girl dressed as a tree running at me. Confused, I realized the elevator door was closing and was too late to stop it from closing.

"What the hell's wrong with you? I asked you to hold the elevator open!"

"Um, s-sorry," I stuttered. "I didn't… you just came and…"

"Oh, so it's my fault that you are too incompetent to hold an elevator door open?"

It was then I realized that the girl was one of the District Seven tributes. She was my age from the looks of it, and if I had to say, quite attractive, having short dark hair and filling out the tree costume nicely.

But that was when I was first introduced to the girl's quick temper, and oh boy was I worried about becoming a pre-Games victim.

The girl sighed. "It's no problem, just press the button again so another one can come."

I nodded and pressed the button.

"You're not one of the tributes, right?"

"No, I'm not."

"Well, what are you then?" The girl asked impatiently. "A stylist, an intern, what?"

"I'm part of the District Four team," I said.

The girl frowned. "That's all you're gonna tell me?"

"That's all you need to know," I said dismissively.

The girl smirked. "Secretive much?"

"Well, we are from competing districts."

"But you're not one of the ones I'll try to kill in the arena," she reasoned. "So there's no reason for hostility."

I smirked. "Says the crazy tree girl who distracted me from the elevator and yelled at me for it."

The elevator opened up. I walked in only to be followed by the District Seven girl.

"Speaking of which," the girl groaned. "I hate this getup. It's so stupid."

"Isn't the idea to represent your district?" I said.

"That doesn't say much when your outfit is as stupid as this."

The girl then started to remove her leaf cufflinks.

"What are you doing?" I ask uncertainly.

"What does it look like? I'm taking off this crappy costume."

My eyes widened. "All of it?"

"All of it."

I felt my face burning.

"Can you get my zipper?"

"I think I'm supposed to get a name before the clothes start coming off," I chuckled nervously.

"Haha. Now shut up and unzip me."

Reluctantly and curiously at the same time, I did as she said and unzipped the back of her outfit. She then slid it off and turned to face me, making this my first exposure to the natural, naked female body.

And it was fucking brilliant.

"Wow," I stated. "If this becomes one of your strategies for the Games, I think it'll work. Not just as a distraction, but as fanservice too."

The girl smirked. "You wish, water boy."

The elevator stopped and made a dinging sound.

"I believe this is your floor," she said.

I grinned. "Well, this was an interesting meeting, except I still don't have your name."

"Johanna," she said. "Johanna Mason."

"Soran Aquila," I replied.

"Hey, if I have some free time after training tomorrow, you and I are meeting up and doing something," Johanna said.

"I'll have to check and see if that's okay-"I began.

"I'm not asking you, I'm telling you," Johanna stated. "Though just so you know, I'm not easy so don't think you can get past first base so quickly."

Says the currently naked girl, I thought.

Johanna waved. "Bye."

I caught one last glimpse of Johanna in the nude as the elevator door closed. Letting out a low whistle, I made my way to the District Four apartment.

The Capitol was an interesting place indeed.