With thanks to Regster, Glassgift, AbbyCoraby123, MsAir, and akuhilangditelanbumi. It was lovely to recieve so many reviews; thank you for them. :)
A large basket held loosely in one hand, he walked through the morning air in quiet solitude.
Miners were already at work, but the merchants had not yet set up their wares, so this window of time, where the sun wavered in the sky as if uncertain to rise, was his favoured time to gather plants.
Nobody was around to harass him.
Kneeling at a small patch of seemingly wild grasses, Emil deftly plucked a few shoots of meadowsweet, lying them flat in the basket. Crossing through the streets to another patch, he picked up a thin awl and dug into the ground, pulling out a small collection of pale vegetables. The parsnips went in the basket with the meadowsweet, and Emil continued.
The movements were nigh-mechanical after so long doing them. Emil turned his head swiftly, ensuring he was as alone as he thought, then ducked under a gap in the District fence, pulling his basket after him.
Many people disregard the trees; their medical power, their ability to create more than they are.
He pulled bark from the aspen tree, pulled some from the willow. A few bunches of Oregon grapes found their way to the basket.
Emil collected flora and fauna both from the forests, collecting ferns and tree bark and mushrooms and all the plants he knew to have qualities he needed.
He liked plants. Plants were uncomplicated.
As he returned through the fence, the sun had decided upon rising and sat large and yellow in the sky, like a portent of an omen yet to be realised.
Today was the Reaping, and Emil held his basket a little tighter than usual. People had risen now, but the streets were still silent.
"Hey, Emil."
Emil grit his teeth slightly. He stopped as a boy his age came to stand opposite him.
"Hi, Dietmar." A hand was on his shoulder. He didn't want it there.
"Got anything for me?"
"I- not yet."
Dietmar's hand gripped a little tighter on Emil's shoulder.
"Not yet?"
Supplies had been short, and he could only take so much before his mother got suspicious, but Emil knew Dietmar wouldn't take that as an answer.
"Production is a long process, and yeast takes a while to culture- it-"
"I need some tonight, Emil." Dietmar always had a placating smile, and it terrified Emil. "You know what day it is today, right?"
"Yes." Emil murmured, shifting one foot subtly backwards in an effort to escape Dietmar's grasp.
"Yeah?" Dietmar matched Emil and then some, coming uncomfortably close. Emil's grasp on his basket became tighter. "Well, if I don't get Reaped tonight, I need to celebrate that. I need to- I need to celebrate that. You get me?"
"Yes." Emil cannot produce alcohol that fast. He does not know how he will twist matters to fix the problem.
"Or I'll tell your parents about your little gathering habits. Going outside the fences still?"
Emil's face drained of blood. He had not been as alone as he thought this morning.
"I'll figure something out." Emil replied, this time carefully moving back to break the hold. He walked away quickly, mind racing to deliver him a solution.
The air was starting to buzz, and Emil could see goods being passed with small slips in return- betting was in full swing already, on the child to be reaped, their age, whether they'd cry.
He slipped past the betting miners and the anxious children that were their focus. One more year and he would graduate from one to the other, and he could not wait to make the transition.
Emil walked into a warehouse that had degraded to little more than a shack- on the outside, it was abandoned, but within a black market of wares and goods circulated. The typical movements of the merchants and customers had increased today to a cacophony of sound, clattering of pans and discussions of inhabitants.
It wasn't what he was used to- he wasn't altogether sure he liked it.
His mother had set up her stall at the corner of the warehouse; close enough to evacuate quickly, far away enough to ensure she wouldn't be caught up in any initial entrance by Peacekeepers.
Extra precautions were always taken on Reaping- Peacekeepers typically turned a blind eye to illegal practices of a benign or economic nature, but during moments that cameras might focus on their work they endeavoured to keep everything clean.
Like Emil, his mother had the look of a merchant- blond haired and blue eyed, albeit lacking the tight curl of his own hair.
She looked up and smiled.
"Emil. Shouldn't you be getting to the registrations? And- oh, you're all dirty." She leaned across the table of medicines and dried herbs, brushing flecks of soil from Emil's shirt. He bit his lip slightly, aware he must have done it when he went under the district fence.
His mother was lenient in many things, but never in matters of Emil's safety. If she knew he went under the fence to fetch some of the indredients she needed-
Emil smiled with no hint of worry in his face. He was practised at it.
"Don't worry, mom, I'll be along soon- just a few things before I go."
She picked up the basket in his hands; inspected the contents. She rattled off their uses with an ease that never failed to impress Emil's curious nature.
"Well, I always need more aspen bark for painkillers, and the Oregon grapes are good for yeast production-" she paused. "Do we need anything for yeast production?"
Damn. He was so far gone on his problems with Dietmar he had forgotten to shift the more incriminating produce.
"Heard the price is going up on bread," he lied with a casual nature he had learned to use in perfect synchronicity with his silver tongue. "If we can make some of our own yeast, we can rely on Capitol grain if it gets too expensive."
"Capitol grain." His mother's voice was not dismissive or impressed, but mulled over matters with an interested tone. Interest was always the tone he hoped to elicit from her.
She nodded carefully, without clear commitment to either side of the plan. "I see. Well, in any case-"
She picked up a small copper bottle no bigger than his palm, stoppered with cork. She handed it to him- a quick tap to its surface confirmed it was empty inside, and Emil looked up questioningly at her.
"I'm going to be busy after the Reaping, so could you get some honey from the yard?"
Hives always proliferated in the wildflower garden Emil's mother had cultivated outside her house. Their honey was sweet, and when money ran low for medicine production they could always rely on it to turn over revenue.
"Will do." Emil smiled; he pocketed the bottle in his thin cotton jacket and went out into the summer sun again, feeling the metal warm against his side.
His smile faded as the cameras came into view; they were portents of nothing good.
Emil believed in portents more than he would admit.
He was one of the first to arrive and one of the first to be searched after the copper bulge in his jacket was noted- after putting his silver tongue to good use in both placating and complimenting the Peacekeeper, the copper bottle was hesitantly returned to him, and he stood in the pen for the age-seventeens, ready for fate to assign him as it would.
Fate assigned a slim waif of a girl first, who looked more ready for death's door than fighting. Emil watched her trudge with dull eyes to the stage, stand in ironic horror next to an overweight man whose makeup gave him the same eyes.
The Capitolian pulled a slip of paper from the bowl. Quiet horror descended on the crowd he stood in.
"-Emil Reynolds!"
His first thought is that he no longer has to worry about Dietmar's alcohol for tonight.
His second thought is how yellow the sun is in the sky.
His third thought is for the screams of his mother he hears behind him.
Emil Reynolds was submitted by Regster- with thanks to them.
The final tribute's chapter will be revealed tomorrow. With that, all seven submitted tributes will be revealed, and we will be almost halfway through reaping.
The sun is still yellow in the sky. We have only just begun.