Chapter 4:
I feel a soft, smooth fabric drape over my bare body, but I can't see it. Rowan has put a blindfold over my bright blue eyes, insisting that the opening ceremony dress that he has designed for me is a wonderful surprise. Rowan has described the dress as "flowy", "swift", "natural", and "beautiful". But I guess I can only understand what he means when the blindfold is removed, and when I get to see myself.
I sense that Rowan has stopped, and that I am completely dressed. I tilt my head upwards. "Can I remove this, now?" I ask.
There is a pause before Rowan answers. "Yes, you can. See your opening ceremony dress for yourself." As he speaks, my hands reach up and fumble with the soft blindfold, before finally whipping it off my face. I hurry over to the tall mirror to my right, and stare into it.
Rowan seems to have transformed me; I can hardly recognize myself in this costume. The top half of the dress features grass and flowers woven together in no particular pattern. The emerald leaves, woven in here and there, makes me seem to glow, and it makes the dress look all the more beautiful. Around my waist, or rather, slightly higher, the green fades nicely into a deep blue, and this blue skirt falls to my ankles.
To say that I love it is an understatement.
Rowan, now, is carefully watching my face. "Well?"
"It's... beautiful," I pronounce, awed.
Rowan smiles. "That's not the main part of your costume," he says. "Do you remember, I told you that you and Troy would have 'water' as your theme?" I nod, confused. "Cindy, who's Troy's stylist, is creating something very similar to yours. Well, just before you board your chariots, you would understand."
"How much time is there, left?" I ask.
"Not long." Rowan places a hand on my shoulder. "That means, we have to get the rest of you fixed up and ready." He eyes me, raising one eyebrow. "Starting with your hair." At his words, my hand flies up to my hair in embarrassment. It seems to be completely tangled, from what Augusta and Agatha did to me earlier.
Still, Rowan's dress has filled me with curiosity. Somehow, I cannot wait to find out what this 'water' thing is, and how it is related to me and Troy. As long as I won't be drenched or drowned by the end of the ceremony, I should be fine... right?
I realize that Rowan is in the midst of braiding my long, brown hair, and I lower my head slightly, towards the blue cloth that swishes around my legs. Rowan doesn't stop, as he continues his way down my hair, which is unusually straight and smooth for a person of District 11. Finally, I feel his hand leave my hair, and he circles me once. I raise an eyebrow. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing!" Rowan states, smiling. "I think you look great." I lift my head to look right into his eyes, as he is much taller than I am. I'm only twelve; no number of sponsors or anything of the sort is going to help me in the Games. "Now," Rowan adds, "are you ready? There's only a few minutes until the ceremony begins."
Troy and I are standing in the chariot, side by side. It feels odd to me, as he is taller than I am, by quite a lot. Rowan hasn't shown me what this "water" thing is, yet, and neither has Cindy, the silver-haired woman who is Troy's stylist. Troy is dressed in a simple navy-and-green suit, as he stands beside me; I am in my grass-woven and deep blue dress.
"Ready?" Rowan asks, stepping forward. In his hand, he holds a small container of water. I hope he is not expecting us to carry that around in the chariot. But Rowan seems to have different plans. Gently, he raises his arm, and I look to see that Cindy has done the same, from where she is, beside Troy.
All at once, I see that Rowan has poured the slightest amount of water over my shoulders. Rapidly, he is fixing something at the bottom; probably so that no water will leave the dress. Cindy is doing the same to my district partner.
"Now, let's go. District 1 will start in seconds," Cindy announces, then allows Troy to stand up.
"I'm nervous," Troy tells me, taking me by surprise. The two of us haven't really communicated before, but now, Troy, who's much older and larger than I am, is telling me how he is feeling. It's rather strange, but I play along.
"So am I," I reply, slightly cautiously. "But it'll soon be over."
As soon as the words have left my mouth, District 1's chariot races past us. I see that they are wearing blue and gold costumes, glitter radiating the fact that they are the district of luxury. But they are past in a blur, in front of so many people.
The two black horses snort, suddenly. I am filled with the irrational fear that I will drown in this costume, but I push that sensation back, telling myself that it is too small an amount of water to take my life. And I tell myself that Rowan wouldn't design something that would kill me.
District 2 is clothed in silver armor, which is probably what they wear every year. The boy and the girl wear matching war-helmets, and their fists are clenched, as if they are ready to head out into the arena in moments.
The District 3 tributes are wearing shimmering black, and their headress is a blur of silver. Their costumes look as though they are made by millions of wires placed close together, and I realize that this is the district of technology.
District 4. The district of fishing. I watch as the two tributes, clothed in blue, pass us, their horses charging across. But what attracts my attention is the female tribute, whose piercing blue gaze meets mine as she passes. For a moment, I glimpse a glare in her eyes, but it is gone, replaced by excitement as the chariot moves away. I don't think it happened, anyway; she doesn't even know me.
The tributes of District 5 are dressed as power workers, wearing silver metal costumes, smoke running down their suits. Their heads are covered with sturdy silver helmets, and they almost look like genuine workers.
Then comes District 6. The two tributes are clothed in shining gold, and are wearing what one of the Career districts would wear in their everyday lives. But their shimmery, disk-like headress tells me that they're dressed as some type of Capitol aid. "What district is that?" I ask Troy, curiosity edging my brilliant blue gaze as I stare after District 6. The girl blinks calmly at me, for less than a second, then turns away as their chariot continues.
"Transportation," comes his reply. "I think they're dressed as train hosts. See their wings?"
"Oh. Right." Only now do I notice that each tribute has a pair of pale golden wings from their back, the traditional symbol of a transportation host or hostess. I can't help but smile as the District 6 girl turns away and stands tall in the chariot.
District 7 comes next. They are dressed in a dark brown, though their clothing is coated in a layer of oak leaves. This is the lumber district; no doubt they are dressed as trees and wood. No, it's not as funny as it sounds. Lumber is a serious source of production for the Capitol.
Then, District 8 passes by, no more than a flash of color. They are wearing colorful clothing, evidently representing the textile industry, the major industry of that district.
And District 9 appears, then races past almost as soon as I see it. The tributes are dressed in what seems to be wheat, which makes sense, as this is the district which is mainly responsible for grain. My hand brushes against my dress. We are District 11, the second-to-last. Suddenly, our turn in the opening ceremony doesn't seem so far into the future, after all.
District 10's female and male tributes are dressed as ranch workers. This is the district of livestock, so both are wearing navy overalls, over clean white suits. Now, my heart speeds up. We're next. Our chariot will start moving in moments.
And it does.
Seconds later, our chariot is being pulled by the black horses down the aisle, and there are crowds of people on either side of us, cheering our district on. Then, I recall suddenly that we are still the "rivers of District 11". That must be why the crowd pays so much attention to us.
I wonder what they think.
I must seem so small and pale compared to Troy, who's much taller and darker. I'm twelve, the minimum age, and Troy is eighteen, the maximum age. I'm probably the youngest tribute in the last ten years, or so. The crowd probably thinks we're polar opposites.
A dark red rose lands on my shoulder, but my hands are shaking too much to acknowledge it. I realize that the crowd is cheering for us even louder than it is for the previous districts. Drawing in a deep breath, I raise one hand, and Troy does so, too. Together, we wave at the crowd.
And a smile plays its way onto my face, as the horses stop.
For the first time, I notice District 12. They are in all black; both the girl and the boy are wearing suits. They stop moments after we do, and the crowd lets out a burst of cheering for all the districts. The water is still running down our backs. We are the rivers of District 11, still.
President Snow speaks, but I'm not really listening. I feel as though this is all worthless, just pampering us before we all die. How convenient, I think, with a brief glare at the crowd. I want everyone to know who I am, and to be beautified in front of everyone, just before I die at someone else's hands.
And, just like that, minutes later, the Opening Ceremony is over.
List of Tributes:
District 1 - Vivienne Hyvershine (female) and Ember Lyonstone (male)
District 2 - Lauren Castor (female) and Cain Follixe (male)
District 3 - Nova Ryams (female) and Niko Allen (male)
District 4 - Scarlett Venak (female) and Aenon Fenshale (male)
District 5 - Molly Goldburn (female) and Isaac Sparktone (male)
District 6 - Adrienne Ryline (female) and Luke Carter (male)
District 7 - Ivy Lomin (female) and Cedar Plavinius (male)
District 8 - Leah Jettsyne (female) and Actaeon Billage (male)
District 9 - Kezia Miller (female) and Harvey Cerez (male)
District 10 - Penelope/Penny Oxford (female) and Talon Haymoon (male)
District 11 - Sylvia Nightrose (female) and Troy Whitethorn (male)
District 12 - Misty Collins (female) and Ashton Blackshade (male)
A Question for You: Has your opinion of Troy changed even a bit, now that they're talking to each other? In a good way or bad way?
Hello, again, everyone! Sorry that it took me slightly longer than usual to update, this time. It took me quite a while to come up with the appropriate names for each tribute. (I promised you a list for every chapter, didn't I?)
Anyway, please review!
~ The Tiger's Flame