I've built walls,

A fortress deep and mighty,

That none may penetrate.

I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain.

It's laughter and it's loving I disdain.

I am a rock,

I am an island.

Simon & Garfunkel


Alexandria Tarsus, District 1, 15:

"Wake up dear!" A shrill voice called out, breaking me out of a good dream. Comfortable darkness had now been replaced with glaring light. I leant up, squinting as much as I can at the golden and white bedroom that surrounded me. In front of towering windows, pulling delicate curtains away with her thin fingers was Leena.

I had kind of hoped that this Hunger Games thing was a bad dream. After a relatively successful chariot ride I went home to my luxury bedroom and still found myself curled up in the foetal position, hoping to god that I would wake up in my own bed the next day. It had happened the night prior too, at the end of the train rides. It was time to face the facts – every night I would wake up knowing that this wasn't a bad dream; this was reality.

"Training?" I grumbled.

"After breakfast," Leena said. "I want you to eat a hearty breakfast. You need lots of fat as food reserves for the Games," she said, pointing at my lithe, dancer's frame as I slipped out of the bed. I turned around to tidy it and she quickly scolded me. "No, no, no! That lowly work is for Avoxes. You just get to breakfast and train."

"Will do," I said, trying to be as polite as possible as I made my way towards the door. Leena grabbed my shoulder and the shorter, icily pretty girl looked me in the eyes before speaking to me slowly as if I were ten years old: "You better remember to train hard. You're not a volunteer, and you didn't train either, which means you're going to have to compensate years of training in a few days. I'd say no pressure, but your life depends on it."

I wanted to tell Leena that I wanted to see her go through what I was going through more successfully. Could she learn how to become a ruthless killer and survival expert in a matter of days? Could she know her life was hanging on a string without feeling emotionally broken? Even worse, I felt penalised for not training. For not being one of the sadistic Neanderthals the Capitol enjoyed producing in District One!

Contrary to what Leena – and my father and brother – probably thought, it wasn't my fault. It was the Capitol's. I told myself that over and over again as I found myself glaring at Leena for a second, doing it so passive aggressively I don't think she even noticed. I wanted to collapse to the ground and demand to know why it was me who was picked out of all those names. And why did no-one volunteer?

Optimistically I thought the girls of District One had perhaps learnt how cruel the Capitol was, but there was a fat chance that was the reality. Maybe the particular brutality of last year's Games had put a few girls off, or perhaps nobody had volunteered; people only volunteered when they felt the year was right. This unlucky year just had to be the year I was taken.

"Hey Lexie, it's time to-" Luster paused when he spotted Leena and I. "Hey, is everything okay?"

"Fine," I said, an edge of sarcasm to my voice.

"Great," Luster smiled awkwardly, nervously scratching behind his ear. "And if you're not fine now, there's nothing a bit of breakfast won't fix, right?"


Breakfast was a quiet affair. I had expected it to be, considering I didn't want to talk to Leena, Luster was the most awkward person I had ever met and Pullox didn't talk very much. Pullox had actually been nice to me, though I couldn't help but wonder if it was an act. I sensed there was some authenticity in it, but ultimately he was a Career whose only desire was to kill and win, one look in his cold eyes told me that.

Sometimes Luster and I would talk quietly, so that Leena wouldn't hear. He told me she was hard to handle, but it was her strange way of caring and trying to toughen people up so that they could survive. He then told me a comedic anecdote of a time last year when he was in my situation, when Leena tried to train him and his District partner, Astrid, with plastic bullets. It ultimately ended with him shooting her in the shoulder.

"I wished I could be that brave," I whispered, dunking a strawberry into a chocolate sauce.

"You can be," Luster smiled. "You're doing really well. You're coping. That's pretty brave. But don't worry about Leena doing anything stupid like that. I'm your mentor now, and I won't let that happen."

Bar that tiny snippet of conversation nothing else happened. I returned to my room, enjoyed the immensely complex Capitol showers, got dressed into a corny looking outfit and then got escorted by Leena to the training centre, Pullox by my side. When we entered the room the other twenty-two tributes were all stood in a semi-circle.

"Training is a particularly important experience," the dark haired deputy Gamemaker said, her aged face serious as she observed each of us. "It's your brief chance to pick up survival knowledge that can make or break you in the Games. You may learn how to use the weapon that you will kill with, or learn to build a fire that will stop you from dying of frostbite. In this training centre there are only a few rules – don't steal, be sensible and most importantly don't hurt another tribute. We want you in the arena in one piece."

So that they can break us even more, I thought.

The deputy Gamemaker gave us one last, unsure smile before ticking her checkboard and storming out of the room, her high heels clicking off the wooden floor, their sound expanding through the ginormous training room; when I glanced around it seemed like one giant market, with stalls that give you free information on how to save your life, an assistant standing behind each one of them.

Some of these stalls only contain brief manuals, others intricate chemicals that bubbled and frothed, but the ones that caught my eyes the most were the ones that were surrounded my targets, dummies and training mats, weapon racks surrounding them. In the Hunger Games many people did die of starvation and natural causes, but that was very rare, as such deaths were boring. The best deterrent of death was learning how to fight.

But first I had to get with the Careers. So as everyone dispersed to socialise and go to the different stalls, I merely followed Pullox unsurely, knowing where his destination was. As we passed male and female tributes I was suddenly aware of Pullox' shortness. Many tributes towered over him, even I had a slight height advantage over him, so why was there something so intimidating about him?

"Here the Ones are," a loud, confident voice announced. It came from the District Four girl. She was easily the tallest and most muscular tribute in the entire room. It was kind of cool the girl was the alpha for once, but something immediately told me she wasn't a nice person. Her gaze moved over to my face. "Hey, even the girl turned up. I didn't expect you to come here."

"I'm doing anything it takes to survive," I said.

"Hm?" Honora glanced at me once. "Is that so? Well, I don't blame you, but don't see us as a ride to the final eight! You need to prove you're capable. You need at least a nine in training!"

"A nine?" I said, feeling my stomach churn.

"Any less and you'll join the rest of the tributes," Honora's muscular arm moved a porky finger, it swept over the room. "They're all training, learning how to avoid us. If you're not going to get a nine you better learn with them."

"Give her a break, Honora," the other Career girl said, the Two girl. She seemed a lot more relaxed than Honora as she leant on a desk with her dark hair hanging over her face. Despite being a foot smaller than Honora, the Two girl also seemed competent and intimidating. "She's new to this."

"Yeah, lets focus on training," the Four boy said, smiling.

"Yeah, yeah," Honora walked away with a sigh. "Go around and scare the living bejeebus out of tributes, learn survival bullshit, I don't know, just do whatever makes you happy."

Honora immediately went to a station which involved heavy weapons, and I noticed nobody else went near her as she rushed over, picked up heavy axes as thought they weighed nothing and sliced limbs off dummies effortlessly. The Two and Four boys both talked nonchalantly and moved towards another weapon station, and Pullox smirked and sped towards a station I wouldn't expect a Career to be so interested in – explosives.

"Just me and you, then," I smiled to the Two girl. "I'm Lexie."

"Lorelei," she said, grabbing my hand and shaking it. I couldn't help but like her confidence. "Though I guess I needn't tell you my name?"

"Why?" I said, as we walked down the hall together.

"Oh, I'm always in District Two's newspapers," she said, rolling in her eyes. "I heard the Capitol knew me pretty well... so I kind of assumed I was famous all over Panem," she frowned. "I'm kind of glad I'm not though, I hate it anyway."

Though Lorelei's disgust was genuine, her voice lilted with an edge of disappointment. I kind of guessed that she was a little disappointed she wasn't famous, but I didn't want to make any assumptions.

"I'm going to the knife station to learn how to use them," I said after an awkward pause, remembering Luster's advice: learn how to dance with knives. "Do you think that you... could... help me or something?"

"Shit," Lorelei frowned. "I planned to look over at some survival stuff, because I don't really know much about it, but tomorrow, once you've learnt the basics, I could perhaps teach you some advanced tricks? Knives are my kind of weapon, so you'll be in safe hands."

"That'd be great," I said.

"It's a deal then," Lorelei said, though she quickly turned and walked away, leaving me in the centre of the training room all alone while so many tributes chatted to each other and worked at different stations – I saw the Three boy move across some monkey bars effortlessly, the Six girl was solving a puzzle and the Nine boy was at a muttation station.

I hated feeling alone. I was kind of used to it back at my home life; while I had supporting family and friends, and a guy who I suspected I was in love with, I always felt a little different from people. Maybe it was because I had different interests, or perhaps because I didn't quite agree with this society's realm of thought, but I did feel like an outcast often. Deciding not to let the loneliness get to me, I moved over to the bladed weapons section.

The bladed weapons section was the most complex and branched out stall in the whole room. One woman stood over ranged weapons, a rack of the impressive things glinting as tributes uneasily removed them. Then there were other blades: heavy ones, sleek ones, curved ones and serrated ones. Each of them all had their own purpose, and it was kind of worrying. Where could I even start? I tentatively moved towards the section where a happy looking guy presided over long, sleek weapons, and a dark skinned girl unsheathed one with awe.

"Be careful, they're-"

"These are authentic," the girl said, sliding her finger lightly across the sleek edges of the sword. "This is a traditional katana. The smoothness of the blade, the potential agility, makes it kind of perfect."

The Three girl was a weapons expert? Probably not, but she certainly seemed more than knowledgeable. I moved towards the weapons rack besides, smiling lightly at a bored looking woman as I removed one of the knives, pretending to look at them whilst eavesdropping in on the Three girl.

"You seem to know your stuff," a passing girl said. I knew her as being from one of the latter Districts; Ten, maybe Nine? I continued watching the both of them, knowing it best not to interfere with their conversation. The tall girl with long, dark hair sent her hand out for a handshake. "I'm Tear, and you seem interesting. What's your name?"

"Elizabeth," the other girl said. "But you can call me Liz."

"Liz," the girl smiled. "Cool name. And you know a little about blades. I was just planning on practicing them once I've gone over some survival skills. We could perhaps be allies?"

"Allies?" Elizabeth's eyes widened a little. She didn't expect it. "Wouldn't you ally with your District partner?"

"I guess but he's... I don't know. He volunteered. I don't know if I can trust him," Tear said. "What about your District partner?"

"Trojan is quiet," Elizabeth said, swinging her katana around experimentally with a fluidity even I admired; however there was still a lack of discipline to her movements. She may have known and read a lot, but I saw trained Careers do the same thing, and she wasn't quite as good yet. After sliding it back into its original positioning, she walked away with Tear, conversing: "I don't know, I don't think he's been raised with kids our age. And sometimes, when I talk to him he says some really weird things like-"

"You shouldn't listen in one other people's conversations," a voice said, out of nowhere.

I quickly jumped and turned around, holding my hand to my heart which refused to beat for a second. A knife fell to the floor with a clatter and I found myself looking at the District Eleven boy. Honestly, whilst not wanting to be judgmental, a first impression of him wasn't really good. He was extremely short - and when I say short, I don't mean the between five foot three to five foot seven short, I mean so short I doubt he even scraped five foot. I looked down at him with his choppy hair and suspicious eyes, trying to force myself to smile as I scooped down to collect my knife.

"I'm sorry," I said, not quite sure how to interact with him. "I just-I just..."

"I guess it's kind of smart, to find out things about the competition," he said, taking his own knife out of the rack, before glancing at me. There was something not right about him. Maybe it was his manner or his strangely deep voice; I didn't think he was evil (though in the Hunger Games you couldn't ever be sure), but there was something contrived in everything he said and did. He always thought before he spoke. "You don't act like a stereotypical One girl."

"I'm not."

"I see," he nodded, grinning a little. "You can hold a knife correctly."

"How do you know how to hold a knife?" I asked suspiciously.

"Me? Er... In District Eleven you have a lot of manual labour jobs, I never had to work any because I had a heart defect..." That would explain the intense shrimpiness of the boy. "But watching people use it to cut fruits has taught me a lot. I can climb, I know how to hold a knife, I know what's poisonous and what isn't," he smiled. "I like to think I have a lot of common sense too, but who knows. I still need to learn how to fight though, I came here to learn how to."

Without telling him that someone of his stature probably couldn't ever learn to fight, especially because he could have a heart attack at any time, I moved over to one of the trainers while he moved over to a dummy. I watched him fight with it, striking it a few times uneasily and watching red beads tear out of the areas he had hit. Not quite as feeble as I thought, but if that were a Career I was pretty sure he'd be dead. I couldn't let myself feel sympathy for him. I could only hope his heart gave way before he was torn apart screaming.

"Hey, you came here to learn?" A woman who manned the station walked up to me. She was pale, with her hair practically tied up into a bun. "That's kind of cool. Most Careers come over to these stations to ruin the dummies and play target practice, but never to actually learn something, so having you here is a breath of fresh air."

Instead of telling someone I wasn't like a typical Career for the millionth time, I nearly nodded and suggestively held out the hand where my knife was held. She complimented me for knowing the basics of holding the knife tightly with balance, and spent another few minutes complimenting my stance; stand on the balls of your feet, one knee slightly bent and balancing of weight, somewhat similar to dancing, my default stance. Still, she spent another few seconds correcting me and ensuring my stance was just right. I made mental notes as she spoke:

"Your knife, though common, is pretty cool; as you can see, like your stance it's spread out nicely. This balance means that while it's useful for quick, light and fast melee fighting, it's pretty great to use for throwing. But we can probably do that tomorrow or this afternoon if we have the time; so lets learn about fighting, I want you to think of it as a fight to the death. We both have knives. So what's more important, stabbing me or disarming me?"

"Disarming?"

"Correct, so that's what you do, so it's best to only fight with one knife, even if people like the Careers make it look cool to fight with two," the trainer smiled. "I'm going to strike you, and you have to practice 'taming the serpent', as it's commonly known among us combat geeks. Are you prepared for it?"

Before I could answer her knife came moving towards me. I held in a scream as it rested by my throat, and as expected I was scolded. I had eventually learnt to enjoy training and to see it as a form of dancing, just like Luster said. Avoiding the trainer's blow as soon became a dance move, and I swung under it pretty quickly, though lost when she struck again. Slowly, but surely, I learnt the next moves, ducking under her attack, jabbing her arm so that she lost her knife and managing to move my knife so that it rested towards her gut.

It was a satisfying hour. Soon I was pretty much defeating her even when she wasn't going easily and slow on me, my grace and poise making me feel as impressive as a Career. It was actually kind of empowering, but I felt myself learn how to defend myself. Maybe I had a chance. After managing to dodge her attack, disarm her and successfully attack her, I found myself smiling whilst she took a moment to take a few gulps out of her bottle of water, beaming at me.

"You're a natural," she said, dampening her forehead with droplets of water. "Where did you get that skill?"

"I dance," I said, almost embarrassed.

"Cool, I'll have to get myself some dancing lessons," the trainer said. "But don't feel too secure, or feel like you know it all yet. Combat situations can be entirely different," she said. "Maybe I'll see you later?"

"Definitely," I said, walking away.

I glanced at the dummy where the Eleven boy trained. I was shocked to see how much he had improved, and throughout the day he had only taught himself. On the floor around him a few manuals lay discarded as he cut and slashed at the air, dancing around the dummy at incredible speeds and stabbed the dummy in numerous places. He was quick and graceful, becoming one with the air as he fought... his fighting style was actually kind of like mine. It was difficult to believe he had a heart defect.

Some kids lied about weaknesses before. Maybe this was all one big act. Or maybe I shouldn't have underestimated his small size and sickly demeanour. I turned around as the lunch bell rang, following other tributes as they made their way to the canteen. Eventually, the Eleven boy had caught up to me.

"I'm Nate by the way," he said, turning and following his District partner.

"I'm Lexie," I said, though I wasn't quite sure if he heard me or not as he scampered away and left me alone again.


Luke Diorite, District 12, 17:

Half a day of training was all I needed to learn everything I needed to learn. And after that I was already confident. Thanks to my strong memory I had a reservoir of knowledge tapped right into my skull, ready to unleash itself. All the things I wanted to learn in school had already come with me - chemistry, biology and some physics and electronics knowledge rung in my head. But there were still another few manuals to skim through, some of them about natural disasters, some about shelter building and some about cleansing water.

Skimming over diagram-set instructions on how to build a fire once was enough for me to need to know what I needed to. I discarded the piece of paper, watching it slowly drift to and fro before setting itself on the blindingly white, clean cafeteria floor. After a while I finally focused on the food presented to me - it wasn't as nice as the usual Capitol stuff, it was only some pasta with tomato sauce on it, basic Capitol health food to fill our stomachs for the rest of the training day.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" Somebody said. The voice was feminine, and I curiously glanced up to see the girl addressing me.

It was the Seven girl, Conifer King. She had a young face, and a relatively sweet smile. She had uneven, copper hair. Wise eyes looked down on me; they were easily the most noticeable feature about her. I looked up at her silently, not responding to her question as she clutched onto her tray of food. I kept eyeing her suspiciously, not quite sure how to deal with her. After all, everybody out there was an enemy in one way or another. Some could be nice enemies, but they were still enemies none the less.

"It's just that there's not many tables..." I glanced around, noticing the thirteen or so circular tables that had been set out for the tributes were all cluttered, mine included. "I guess I'd go sit with my District partner, but he's speaking to the Eight boy." Once again I turned and memorised everything about the Eight boy - I had memorised everything about him during his Reaping and remembered his shocked face. Here he seemed a little lighter, chatting away to the District Seven boy whilst his District partner sat beside him, playing with her food. I memorised their interaction.

"Are they allies?" I asked.

"I guess," the girl smiled. "So do you mind if I sit down?"

"Go ahead," I said, swiping a few training manuals aside so that she could place her tray down. Though she didn't look as underfed and weak as other girls her age, Conifer still seemed somewhat unmuscular, so standing around with a tray in hand for a while wasn't easy for her. She set the tray down and quickly began jabbing at her food, eating it gratefully. I prodded at mine for a while, not hungry, and not feeling very sociable either.

"I'm-"

"I know your name, you're Conifer," I muttered.

"How do you know?" She asked, suspicious.

"Because I remember everything," I said, a slight smile playing on my face.

"Everything?" She said. "Is that why you keep fluttering between stations, picking up their manuals, reading over them, and walking away? I spent all day at the poisonous plants section, so I know quite a lot of it, and you only spent about five seconds there. So, is Redweed poisonous or not?"

"Not poisonous," I said. "It has medicinal properties."

"Etbark?"

"Mildly poisonous, but not deadly."

Her eyebrows raised. She was impressed. I guess nobody would expect a scruffy looking boy from District Twelve to be so smart. In reality, I was refused the education to make me smart, so I wasn't really smart, but I had utilised my cognitive abilities today to become as smart as possible. Hopefully it would work. I kind of fell to sleep every night somewhat assured that I had a chance, even if it was small.

"What about Shadow's creep?"

"The name is ominous enough," I smiled, taking in a mouthful of pasta and then swallowing. "It'll kill you."

"I will catch you out," she smirked, challenging me. "What about Serlock?"

"That depends."

"It isn't poisonous," Conifer said.

"But it is depending on its season. At its most critical period - pollination, when it prepares to release its gametes, the plant becomes poisonous because it would be pretty crappy to get eaten at such a critical period. Around this time, Serlock develops a violet hue around the corolla," I looked as Conifer glanced at me with some awe. Freya gave me that look too, sometimes, and it made me feel self-conscious. At a young age I was never really thought of as a bright kid. But now it was my chance to prove I was. I had to be a bright kid.

"Looks like you do have a good memory..." Conifer trailed off. She had tried to test me, but instead it had ended with me testing her. There was an awkward silence and as we both ate our pasta. Though the meal wasn't satisfying, both of us wolfed it down. That was how you were expected to treat meals when you lived in the latter Districts; they were rare and no matter how they tasted not an ounce of the meal could afford to go to waste.

"Hey partner," a sleek voice said. I didn't need to know who it was.

Still, there Freya was, strutting over to us and making sure to shake her hips as seductively as possible. She grumbled unhappily to herself and made sure to sit down in a way that showed off her legs and rear as much as possible. It was excruciatingly and dramatically slow, and both Conifer and I looked humiliated, knowing that all eyes were on us.

"Have you been training?" I asked, hating the desire for small talk and scraping my fork onto nothing.

"Unless there's a station that teaches you about how to please a man I'd be over there rocking it," Freya laughed. "I could even show the instructors and tributes here a thing or two!"

I noticed she hadn't eaten, not a bit, which was kind of a shame considering the fact that she, like us, was ridiculously skinny. I didn't dare point it out though; Freya was superficial and didn't like her appearance or lifestyle criticised, and as soon as she saw the rich, fattening foods offered to us she immediately mentioned something about dieting. I felt like telling her to screw dieting - living in the Districts was like a constant diet, but with no good results, only a slow and constant starvation. It infuriated me that Freya still submitted herself to hunger.

"So, who is your girlfriend here?" Freya leant in unbearably close, so her face was right by Conifer's ear. I saw Conifer's doe eyes trail to the floor, humiliated. "You ever had a three way?"

My stomach was hit with embarrassment. Freya had offered herself to me last night, though had fortunately fallen unconscious in a drunken stupor. I hoped it was only the alcohol talking, though I was quick to realise Freya was prepared to offer herself to anybody who was willing.

"She's fourteen," I hissed.

"And?" Freya looked at me. "I started selling myself when I was thirteen."

"To paedophiles," I growled, finding myself strangely defensive. "Not everyone's worldview revolves around sex Freya. And not everyone has their innocence taken away from them so early," Freya wasn't used to being challenged. She was a tough girl, but I found my fists clenching so that the fork in my hand buried itself into my skin. "You had your innocence taken from you early, and no matter how you pretend it didn't, it hurt you. I thought you'd have a bit of empathy and would let other people retain theirs!"

I found myself shouting, and it was followed by what felt like an indefinite silence. Everybody halter their conversation, just to glance in our way because I found myself shouting and growing hot with anger. Even the Careers glanced at us with some interest in their eyes. I looked at them, then at a blushing Conifer, and then at Freya who (despite the lack of expression of her face) was probably mortified. The silence sunk into me slowly like a thousand knives before Freya stood up with a sly grin on her face.

"She's in the Hunger Games," Freya said, bending over the desk and looking me in the eye. "Either she dies innocent or lives guilty. Play your cards right, Luke."

"I will."

"Good," Freya chirped, standing up and blowing kisses before striding away as the bell rang again, signalling the end of lunch. I didn't quite know whether the blowing of kisses was a sarcastic response, or if she was bad at holding grudges and would forget my outburst by tomorrow. Either way, I gulped all of my juice down in the hope it would make me feel less sick and anxious.

"Thanks," Conifer said, standing up with me.

"It's no problem," I said as we both began to walk out of the cafeteria.

"Can I tell you something?"

"Yeah."

"I'm not very innocent," Conifer said, looking at me austerely. "I mean, I guess I kind of have a boring past. I've been lucky enough to have no tragedy. No deaths. We all work in paper factories and have kept all of our limbs intact as well as food on the table. I'm not as tainted as a prostitute. But is anyone in Panem innocent? Anyone away from the squeaky clean Capitol? I still see people die on the street. I still see kids in the factory scream as the machines grind their fingers into red juice. I still see mothers rush into the river that runs through my neighbourhood and throw their babies into the stream because they can't handle another baby and... Yeah... I guess I know where she's coming from."

"Yeah," I sighed, every memory of someone enduring immense pain coming back to me - every single one.

"So, you defended me, does that make us allies?" Conifer asked as we entered the training centre. I glanced at her once, questioningly, to which she replied: "I mean, you weren't very talkative at first. I kind of like that in a person, I'm not social myself, but maybe we could..."

"Why not," I eventually said, smiling. I wasn't quite sure if I'd regret making an alliance, but Conifer seemed smart and somewhat able. I didn't need her around to help, but that was okay as long as she wasn't a hindrance.

"That's great. Guess I won't have to learn all sorts of boring survival stuff like knot tying," Conifer laughed.

"You still will," I glanced at one end of the training centre, where the Four girl laughed manically as she held a crossbow, firing multiple arrows into dummy's hearts in split seconds and relishing in the fake blood that spilt onto the floor. "I mean, there's a good chance I'll die. You can't always depend on someone else to know all of this stuff. Because anyone could die. They have to die for you to win. And what will you do after that?"

"Quit being reasonable and honest," Conifer said sarcastically, a brightness fading from her expression. "Yeah. I guess I have hours to learn that kind of stuff. But first I want to learn some hand-to-hand combat. Just to feel safe," she smiled.

"Combat?" I looked at her seriously. "Not my thing."

"Hey, you look big and strong, bigger than me," she squeezed my arms experimentally. I was moderately big, but so were the other boys who had to lift tonnes of coal for a living. I was still skinny in comparison to the Careers, who seemed to be nothing but layer of muscle piled onto layer on muscle.

"I guess," I smirked. "It's not my thing, I'd rather not learn it."

Conifer rolled her eyes. We were already arguing. But in a strange way the argument felt comfortable and homely; you couldn't ever argue with people you felt totally uncomfortable with, so the fact that Conifer and I were bickering gave me a sense of knowing, comfort and trust. Still, when it came to alliances you needed to be careful not to piss other people off. That could have serious strategic repercussions. I didn't want to be betrayed, and didn't trust Conifer enough to not stab me while my back was turned.

"It doesn't matter what you'd rather not learn," she grinned exasperatedly. "If that was the case I'd avoid knot tying or mutt identification even though both of those could save my life. And hand to hand combat could save yours. It's not something you can just learn from a book," both of us approached an area with multiple safety mats invading the usual wooden floor of the training centre. "And sadly, no matter how good your memory is, you can't memorise something as practical as hand to hand combat, so come on!"

I sighed and followed her, feeling my feet squash the foamy mats beneath. Spread out of the ocean of combat mats were different trainers, each advertising a different model of combat with signs plastered to the wall close to them. Some were recognisable, such as basic combat and boxing, but other branches of fighting were obscure and I hadn't heard of them before, ones with names like Karate, Judo and Taekwondo. I glanced at the signs, consciously forcing myself to remember the names as Conifer guided me towards one of the men.

The sign above his head announced that he taught standard hand to hand combat. He wore practical combat clothes, was tall and smiled at us as we approached. As someone who trained for many years, I couldn't imagine how pathetic he thought of us; I was a silent District Twelve kid, and Conifer was a little girl from District Seven, and we both came to him for advice on how to fight.

"Hey," he grinned. "So you guys want to learn how to fight?"

"Pretty much," Conifer said. "We need to if we want to survive. We can't always depend on weapons. We need to know how to fight with our own hands."

"You, kid, are sensible," the guy said, ruffling Conifer's hair to her distaste. "Okay, so first I'm going to teach you how to do a correct stance, then how to throw a proper punch, and then how to do a kick," he glanced at us. "It will make you have better fighting chances, but I must advise you to not follow every little instruction I tell you. Trained combat is very specific and has rules - in the Games there are no rules, people will play dirty and bite, scratch... grab your hair... use a weapon," he looked at us both. "Naturally you both know that if your opponent plays unfair, you just give it whatever you have and screw etiquette."

The stance was very easy to remember, though I had problems with practically applying it. Being somewhat heavy, keeping my field of gravity completely balanced was a lot more difficult for me than it was for Conifer. Once again, being taught how to throw a punch was easy, and I could have repeated the instructions to someone for the rest of my life - and when he made us practice our punches on dummies, it worked rather successfully and I managed to deliver many a harsh punch to the dummies before me. However, things you learnt on paper weren't always quite as easy as they were in real life.

We trained hard for an hour, learning multiple other moves - we learnt specific punches, such as jabs and right hooks, we also learnt how to block blows, dodge without losing balance, and how to incorporate kicks and sweeps into fights. After spending half a day learning nothing but survival tidbits, it was kind of nice to spend an hour learning how to fight. It wouldn't make me an expert fighter who could kill a Career, but it would make me feel a little knowledge on how to fight and perhaps relax my chances ever so slightly.

"Great," the instructor scratched his stubbled jaw as he watched Conifer and I kick a dummy together so hard, leading it to collapse and lay on the ground uselessly. "You guys are great learners! How about you fight each other?"

"Wh-?" I started.

"Fight each other," he repeated coolly. "It's the best practice."

"I can't fight a girl who is like, three years younger than me!" I protested. Chivalry wasn't my thing, but it did appear slightly unfair. Mind you, when it came to the Games, I'd be expected to kill twelve year old girls, fifteen year old girls, any girl or boy that crossed my path. I couldn't think about what was fair or not. I could only think about survival.

"I'll do it," Conifer said, nodding in determination. I hoped I hadn't offended her.

"Great," the trainer stepped back and smiled. "Let the fighting begin now!"

I turned and was about to get into my stance, though was immediately shocked when Conifer immediately sprang to action. My head shook when an undercut to the jaw left me feeling dazed and stumbling back, and I knew it would have hurt a lot more if it weren't for her gloved hands. I was about to compliment her, but she struck me square in the nose again and I stumbled back as blood seeped out of my nostrils.

Conifer had impressed me - she was prepared to pounce into a fight and though she wasn't the strongest or the fastest, she was prepared to give everything she had, and when one put in a lot of effort they could usually get good results. As she struck again I managed to sidestep the blow, though she immediately ducked under my right hook.

"You're good," I said as I jumped over a kick.

"Better than you," Conifer teased, swinging another punch my way, though I had easily deflected it by holding my hands close as a barricade to my face. I had been on the defensive for most of the fight, and decided to go in for the kill as sweat began to form around Conifer's hairline.

I sent in a powerful blow, trying to remember how to punch and keep my gravity centred. Conifer had managed to successfully block it, though the power of my strike had sent her back a step or two. I repeated the punch, though this time managed to keep it as a powerful right hook, and as expected Conifer had been launched out of her balance. As she stumbled back, looking shocked at the power of my punches, I kickly sent a spin kick and felt somewhat cruel when it had slammed right into the centre of her chest and knocked her on the matt. She sprawled across the floor, not managing to cry out as the wind was forced out of her.

The trained immediately rushed over to her, crouching down: "Conifer! Are you okay?"

"Yeah... that was a good kick," Conifer groaned, leaning up. "No long term damage."

"Good," he smiled. "If a tribute is badly injured under my wing, it's my neck on the line," I noticed the worry in his tone as he told Conifer this. She nodded, taking it in her stride, but I truly thought about his facial expression and his instant worry. I had a small hunch that he would have been executed had Conifer had a substantial injury. The Capitol wanted the tributes to suffer on camera only, and they did have a small, twisted sense of justice in the way they wanted all tributes to enter the arena uninjured to level out the chances a little bit more.

"You won," Conifer said, standing up.

"Yeah, but you did good," I said, trying to not sound condescending - Conifer was pretty good.

"Now we know the moral," the trainer said, smiling at us. "Someone might be smaller and younger than you Luke, but that doesn't make them dumber, weaker or less deadly, I mean Maximotus Leprenzo, who was a pretty competent tribute, was something like fourteen, and so was the victor of his Games Rayann, so just think twice before you underestimate someone, it might kill you," he then glanced at Conifer. "And you need to learn that whilst you officially lost under a guided fight, in the Games you don't lose until you're dead, so here's some advice if you're floored..."

I didn't listen to his talk. I could only watch helplessly as the Deputy Head Gamemaker, who had introduced us, strode in again. There was no clipboard. The fact she was here meant that there was some serious business. My stomach lurched a little and I couldn't help but feel intimidated and worried. Intuition was often unrealiable, but if I followed mine I would expect something awfully wrong had happened. I could see it on the woman's slightly botoxed face.

"Tributes!" She shouted. Nobody paid attention. Careers still threw knifes and tributes still tied knots. She then screeched: "Tributes!"

Conifer's conversation stopped immediately. Even Honora grew silent, her grip freezing onto an axe handle before it had tore off a dummy's neck. The silence was painful, and the Gamemaker's next words made me feel absolutely awful.

"We have to halt your training early. You must go to your private quarters and stay there," before anyone rolled their eyes she shouted. "Immediately! This is a serious incident, as you know the Capitol wouldn't cancel your training session so easily. As you know there are outside influences that endanger your life, not just the Games," she looked over the room darkly. "And - for now - we want to keep you safe. So get back to your rooms."

I didn't know why we had to go back to our rooms, but my stomach immediately dropped.

Something big had happened.


Slightly late update! I've been mildly busy lately, so this (and the next) update will both be a little late, though still updated in a reasonable amount of time, I hope. It also meant I didn't respond to any of your reviews, so I'm sorry for that!

I disliked this chapter. The reason being both these tributes were difficult to write. I usually appreciate that, and I love Luke & Lexie, but they're difficult characters to explore and nail. Lexie is similar to other untraditional Careers in the past like Melanthe and Katie, though is a lot tougher, independent and complex. Luke is similarly complex and can have a somewhat understated personality. I hope both their creators think I did them justice, because I felt so unsatisfied with their portrayals!

Also this is the 9th chapter! Halfway through the beginning to the bloodbath (which is chapter 18). You know what that means? If you reviewed every chapter up till this one, you've reviewed half of the chapters, which means you get to sponsor the tribute of your choice a good object of your choice after the Bloodbath! So pat yourself on the back :3

~Toxic