Two Weeks before Ranking Day
The training arena was always packed with eligibles and their parents the last few weeks before Ranking Day, but with this year being the first Quarter Quell, it had been packed for months. Everyone wanted to become District 2's first victor in a Quarter Quell and the tension, due to this, reared its ugly head. Fights broke out, bones were broken, rumors started, anything that could be done to make one get ahead was not out of the question.
Brea found it all disgusting. However, she dove head-first into the madness of the training arena. She was the earliest to arrive and the last to leave. She worked harder and longer than she had ever had and achieved personal records in nearly every testing area.
She knew people thought it was due to a last ditch effort to rank in the top three, but she didn't care. They didn't know that even the training arena was peaceful compared to her home.
Her father's behavior had become manic in the last few months. Brea didn't see him stay still for more than a few seconds and he never sat down. If he wasn't lecturing her or coaching Brannock, he was pacing in his study, sometimes muttering to himself. She knew that her father's behavior was always erratic around the Games, but this first Quarter Quell intensified and lengthened it. She could tell he wasn't getting much sleep and was eating even less. Despite her resentment towards the Games and its hold over her father, she pitied him.
Pity, however, only sustained a person so far, so she found herself at the training arena for several hours every day.
The arena was designed by retired Gamemakers. Along with standard weapons, it also included a replica of every weapon that had made an appearance in previous Games, each of which her father made sure she and Brannock were studied in. There was even a simulation arena that could replicate previous Games designs. Stations were littered around the training arena for foraging, camouflage, fire-building, anything that could be of use in the Games.
While Brannock benefited from the physical training at the arena, neither was Brea's affinity for intelligence neglected. Even though she was one of the better dagger-throwers of the eligibles, she still preferred the intelligence tests and problem-solving scenarios the arena had to offer. This didn't exhibit itself only in the arena, but also in school. She had received top marks for as long as she could remember, causing her to stand out as a future Peacekeeper candidate. Brea abhorred the idea, secretly wanting to become a Council member for District 2. The thought of ranking children for the Games every year made her sick, but a place of democratic influence seemed the only place she would be able to make impactful good.
A taped hand tapped her on the shoulder. She turned to see a cloud of bright red hair and twinkling hazel eyes. Brea smiled.
Tip was Brea's closest friend in District 2. Her dream was to become a skilled stone mason like her father, so she always had a light dusting of whatever stone they had been working on in her hair. When the specks would catch the light, they shimmered, causing her to look other-worldly. She was an age below Brea, but they got along as if they had been together their entire lives.
Brea ran a hand through a curl of her friend's wild hair and rubbed her fingers together, inspecting the dust. "Marble?"
Her friend revealed a brilliant smile and nodded. "Wanting to build some last-minute muscle?" she said, motioning towards the weights.
Brea gave her a knowing look.
"Ah. The time of year where everyone's home lives are hectic is upon us."
"Everyone's isn't like mine, Tip. You've only seen glimmers of my dad around this time. It goes beyond discussing the Games all the time and making bets on who the tributes will be. Anything you have witnessed outside of our home is extremely watered-down from what he's like inside it."
Tip continued wrapping her hands with the binding. "Oh, I believe it. Even outside of Games season, I don't think I have ever seen that man smile, Brea."
Brea shook her head as she continued lifting. "Yeah, me neither."
Tip eyed her friend. "Excited for rank testing next week?"
Every year, District 2 would participate in ranking their children eligible to be in the Hunger Games, aged twelve to eighteen. Similar to the scoring of Hunger Games tributes, each child would exhibit their strongest skill before the Council and the top hundred would be given a rank. One of the top three for the girls and boys were the most likely to be picked by the Council to represent the district in the Hunger Games.
Typically, the rank testing wouldn't start for another month, but being the year of the Quarter Quell moved up the testing to two weeks from now. Brea had managed to hold a spot in the top twenty the past few years, last year making it to the top ten. She credited it all to her father's ruthless training.
Brea finished the rep and dropped the weights. "Excited for them to be over and for everyone to move on."
Tip laughed. Her laugh was one of her best qualities. There was nothing cynical in it, as Brea's had a tendency to be. It was light, unassuming, and given freely. "What, you aren't swept away by the glory of the Games?"
"Maybe I'd be more into it if I had a chance of participating in them." She nodded her head over at Rena, who was sparring with a couple of girls on the other side of the arena. The bright white bandage gracing her nose made Brea grin. "Some of us can't wait to get blood on our hands."
Tip smiled knowingly. "You know, I heard some whisperings that you got some blood on your hands not so long ago."
Brea grimaced. She could still remember the metallic smell of Rena's blood on her body after their fight. She had nearly scrubbed her skin off when she took a shower that night, ridding herself of any reminder of Rena. "That was so gross."
Tip giggled, "You know, back to earlier, being in the top ten isn't anything to sneeze at. Even if it doesn't get you to the Games, it'll give you a leg up when you choose a career. I'm lucky I'm in the top twenty."
Brea shook her head admiringly. Another one of Tip's shining qualities was her optimism.
Tip scanned the room as Brea did another set of lifting weights. "I'm surprised Brannock isn't here", Tip stated with a slightly disappointed tone.
Brea's mouth thinned into a line. Her brother and she had hardly spoken for weeks. They crossed paths many times, but each were silent, hardly acknowledging each other. The weight of their unresolved arguments and differing views was borne by each and neither relieved themselves of the load. She huffed out, "He's with his private instructor. Dad pulled all the stops this year."
Tip gave a low whistle. Private instructors weren't cheap in District 2, especially during Games season. "He really wants you guys to carry on that victor legacy, huh?"
Brea sardonically chuckled. "Tip, look where I am and look where he is. My father has made it clear who he expects to carry on his legacy."
