She was one face in a vast ocean of bystanders. Simply another spectator in the arena.

The arena of death.

Some would surely find it gruesome, but she never had. From the very moment they placed her there, she was captivated by the deadly lock in which the players were all so deeply ensnared. They were master masqueraders, feigning innocence, veiling their little brawls from those who inadvertently found themselves at the mercy of these warring tyrants. But from her front-row seat, nothing could escape her eye.

She saw everything.

Every victory, every loss, every weakness – nothing was kept secret from her. They made sure of it.

She would place her bets on one team, learn to foresee their next moves, study anything that she could possibly use against them. It was all a part of their plan. Keep your friends close and your enemies even closer.

But there was one thing that they never foresaw: She began to see them as more than just pawns.

There were the beautiful but cruel British children, ones she could feel herself too easily resonate with (but of course, they were like her, even if they didn't know it), who had once seemed so strong but were left so utterly fragile.

And there were the ones in purple jumpsuits with such big biceps and such seemingly small brains. With something akin to awe, she watched as they all but moved mountains, as the boy and girl broke free from the unspoken rules that told them what they could and could not do.

She saw the Harvard drop-out face his uncle, the spy confront past demons, the superstar find himself, the triplets holding onto each other against all odds, and against those very same odds, she found herself in possession of a new kind of respect for those two young players, so fresh with naivety and innocence.

She fell in love with the enemy.

When they put her in the front row, there was a glass wall that separated the two of them. And at first, she couldn't help but wonder how stupid these fools were, all fighting against each other. She wondered if they realized all they did was run around in circles all day. With sticks and stones, lies and treachery, they chased each other back and forth across the arena, back and forth, always back and forth.

But that was good. Because if they were so busy fighting each other, how could they possibly notice her?

Of course, there were those few times when it seemed as though they were beginning to understand that, but whenever it happened, a new spark was ignited just in time to keep them fighting. By her. She was instructed to never let the flame die.

Keep them burning.

And so she did. But something happened. One day while fanning the flames, it suddenly struck her that she was burning someone.

Which one?

All of them.

Lucian Ekat Janus Tomas *Madrigal*

But they were the enemy, the interlopers, keeping her from world dom-

They were people.

A rainbow of colors - music rising to the heavens, the thrill of conquering the highest peak, the dawn of a golden age, the fate of the world.

And suddenly, she respected them. Pitted against each other from such a young age, just as she had been against them, no wonder they could never stop running in circles.

But then there was the hunt. With bated breath, she observed, wondering who would come out victorious, or at least, closest to it. (After all, only the Vespers could truly win.)

First it was the spy, then the Janus, then the Holts, but of course, there were always the Kabras, so far in the lead – but wait, what about those two newcomers? Could they possibly bring this fighting to an end?

They did.

When they were in the gauntlet, when a ceasefire was called, she suddenly realized the spark had finally been smothered. There was still smoke, but the flame had been extinguished. Which meant she had to start it again. But this time, she needed to create an explosion.

And so, after all these years, her turn had finally come. She and her allies would finally enter the arena. It was their time.

Their time for world domination, their time to take what was rightfully theirs-

Their time to destroy the ones she had come to love.


A/N - I'm sure you all got the basic idea. This OC is a Vesper, but of course, I had to put a twist on it. In a way, I see her as being somewhat like us readers, being able to see everything that the characters go through and getting to know them without ever actually meeting them, but despite the fact that she has been trained to hate them, she begins to become attached to them. Just like us. Often, we find ourselves feeling like we personally know someone we don't, whether a fictional character or contestant on T.V. show, and if they die or lose, it brings us down. So, I suppose that's where this comes in. Because honestly, I don't think all the Vespers are going to be terribly evil. (We need at least one good guy, don't we?)

Words: 738

Posted: June 19, 2011

Update: I've labeled this story as complete because, as much as I'd like to, I doubt I will ever continue with the prompts. I shall leave what's up here, though, for anyone who might happen to enjoy what I did finish. :)