Chapter Twenty-Six.
Lucas sat at the base of the hill, the supplies piled up around him and at his feet.
He'd moved everything further away from the Cornucopia and towards the sand for a better viewpoint. No one would be sneaking up on him. He refused to give the other tributes that kind of advantage.
That was how his path had been paved so far – taking away what people could use to tear him down.
He thought of the girl from Three, yesterday's intruder, and bit his lip. He could have killed her. He should have killed her. When he'd been left alone, he'd made it his priority to do whatever had to be done to ensure it was him and him alone that would survive.
And yet, he'd shown mercy.
Adrina. He thought of his deceased ally. Adrina had done something for him. She'd helped him pull back, a step or two from crossing a line, and it was because of her he knew he could not have driven his spear into Rell's body. She wanted supplies for her hungry allies. Lucas had been thinking of Adrina in that moment, alone, hungry, lost and frightened. It had been a moment of weakness.
Lucas hated being weak.
But he wouldn't lie to himself and say he could smother that down for eternity. Just for the duration of the Games. Until he came out the other end alive, he couldn't afford to be like other, every day, normal people. He had to be the kind of guy that could look a suffering girl in the eyes and still take her life from her.
He'd made a mistake yesterday. From now on, he couldn't do the same thing again.
Adrina wouldn't have liked what he was thinking. At the thought of her disapproving eyes hidden behind a sarcastic smile, Lucas grinned and brought his knees up to his chin. It hadn't been his plan to get connected. But even with someone like Lucas, who had driven off person after person, the good and the bad, Adrina had burrowed in deep and brought about a different combination of trust and friendship.
Her death was a hard thing to cope with. But he was coping. For her sake, as well as his own. With Adrina dead, there was no one else alive but himself and her District partner that could cherish her memory and remember the girl that had once been alive and fighting.
Ryon would not win because it would mean Lucas had to die.
Lucas would win. He had to.
His eyes hovered over the charred trees, the remains of the forest he'd burnt down, and saw the smoke clogging the sky and drowning it out in a thick, terrible blur. There was something in there. It wasn't quite whole or together. It was something that moved with the smoke, curled its wispy tendrils over the branches and peered out with red eyes at Lucas and the Arena.
He swallowed a lump of fear in his throat when he saw movement within the depths of that hell, and focused his eyes back on the Cornucopia stationed in front of him. Apart from the blood that had spilt, the fire that had raged through the village and trees, it was probably the only thing of true colour in this Arena.
He now had the bounty, which meant other people would flock to him. Like Rell had done against her will because of the hourglass, and tried to take from what wasn't his, but he now protected. If there was one thing he hated about what the Gamemakers had done so far, it had been what they'd done to Adrina. They'd forced her away, not even giving Lucas the chance to try to help her.
He wasn't going to pretend he cared more about her life than his own. If it had come down to it, he'd have ran to let her die if it meant his own survival. But he hadn't even had the damn chance to do something. He'd felt useless when he'd seen her face in the sky.
Lucas did not like feeling useless. Weakness, it was all the same. A Victor could not feel what he was feeling. They had to be strong.
He caught sight of movement that didn't belong to the smoke mutt. He tilted forwards ever so slightly, lifting his head to get a better look. His eyes picked up on something, near the edge of the Cornucopia. Lucas tensed when a figure moved from the shadows and peered round the golden horn.
They looked stunned to find there was nothing there. It was a boy, shaken and frightened, looking more worse for wear than anyone Lucas had ever seen. He'd been raised in Twelve. That was a statement which hammered in the horror of this Arena.
Marshall Kilbourne looked up and saw Lucas, in the distance, staring at him. The boy from Twelve immediately moved his hand for his spear. He thought of Rell and knew he would not hesitate, not this time, if he came anywhere close.
He expected him to.
The final nine. It wouldn't be long until the victor was decided and they got to go home. That would not happen if they did not stand and fight, if they didn't try, if they didn't give it their all. If the chances were looking bleak, Lucas would run. But he would still fight before finding that answer out.
This boy didn't know what Lucas could do. He didn't know what Marshall could do either. But rather than try for the supplies at his opponent's feet, he turned tail and fled, back into the shadows and out of sight.
Lucas let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.
The prospect of killing, even though he'd already done it, did not excite him. In fact, it terrified him. A fight against Marshall wasn't a thrilling prospect, but he would have done it anyway. However he'd ran and now Lucas was alone, again, to wait and be patient as the tributes made their way through the Arena.
Soon enough, another might stumble this way. Lucas would be ready.
He had it in him to do what had to be done.
Whatever the cost.
Belarius was alone.
He had been for about twenty or so hours, ever since the Arena had turned upside down and Ivo had been taken away.
Belarius didn't do well alone, not after everything that had gone on so far. It was the first time since he had volunteered when he hadn't had someone near him. Aurelie, far from ideal company, had been with him until the formation of their alliance. And then it had been a team that he had seen hope in, only for that spark to be extinguished as Belarius realised the truth of their future.
Then, he'd had Ivo. And it was now, with the darkness above him and the flames scorching the air and travelling towards the village, that Belarius would find his ally. He knew what had to happen eventually. But eventually made it easier to handle. As long as it was only eventually and not the present, then Belarius could keep almost pretending that he needed Ivo and Ivo needed him.
He realised the folly of making friends in this place. Maybe if he reversed time he'd consider following Aurelie down the cold, darkened road that led to loneliness. But he knew, no matter how many times he went back, that that would never be the case. People were different.
They needed different things to keep them alive.
Belarius kept to the shadows of the houses, moving in-between those that had holes blasted into the trembling walls and the sidelines that were masked in the absence of light. As long as he didn't draw the attention of something, he'd be left alone.
He'd seen what had been dropped into the Arena, from the moon above. And he knew who was still left alive. Prosper was out there, somewhere, in a state that Belarius had no way of knowing. With Luella dead, and Ivo killing Darina, the safer bet would be to assume there would be no way of getting through to him. Prosper was a lost cause and he had to die.
Aurelie was the biggest threat. As Belarius continued on his search, all he could think about was his District partner and how she was still alive, even when the numbers continued to drop. He didn't like the way he would hope to see her face in the sky at the end of a day. He didn't like how each cannon might have signified the greatest threat dying and how, deep down, he actually felt happy over the idea.
Belarius had to tell himself it was more the self-preservation side of who he was that wanted her death, not anything else. Otherwise that truth was a lot darker than what their lives had become in this Arena.
He moved down another road, taking a sharp left and pausing to catch his breath. It was at that moment, Belarius heard a loud, terrible noise that shook the earth as something hit the ground with tremendous force. It wasn't too far from where he was now standing.
Belarius' blood ran cold. His face went pale, a sickly shade that gave away his fear almost immediately. He turned to peer round the corner and then threw himself backwards, clutching onto his sword, with the bow digging into his back as he almost toppled over. One of the creatures, the mutts that had fallen from the sky, was round the corner.
Belarius didn't want to look again. He didn't. But he had to know, he had to know if it was coming. As soon as his head tilted back round the corner, he knew he'd made an awful mistake. The mutt's red, soulless, hungry eyes fell on his own.
And then the chase ensued.
His heart hammered against his chest. His ribcage rattled around inside of him as he struggled to sprint as fast as he could. The Games hadn't made him strong in a physical sense. He was weakening, just like everyone else was. The trouble with losing strength, however, was the fact the mutts didn't seem to have the same thing being taken from them. It was gaining on him and gaining on him fast.
The largest of its arms, three times Belarius' height and thicker than a tree, swung itself at his head. Belarius ducked at the last moment and slashed the beast with his sword, cutting into its thick bristles that tore off. Bluish, inky blood poured from the cut as it roared, a low pitched menacing sound, and barged towards him even faster.
He'd angered it. Belarius swore under his breath and turned sideways and bolted for an open house. The second he made it out the back door, the entire building fell apart into rubble. The mutt was stronger than anything he'd ever seen before. Like a boulder, tearing apart anything in its wake. Belarius didn't want to think about what would happen if he slowed down, or was caught, or the mutt decided that it wanted to have fun with its prey.
The thought sent a nasty shiver down his spine. Belarius could deal with plotting his way through the Career alliance and how to pick his strongest foes off. But not some wild beast, on the Gamemaker's leash and hell-bent on his destruction. He panted, held onto his side when pain shot down his entire body, and took another right.
The village was a horrible maze. He took lefts and rights and more lefts. Everything looked the same at this point as he started to tire, his legs turning weak and his arms like lead weights against his torso. His vision went blurry as he turned another left.
His vision went dark the moment he collided with something and was thrown to the floor.
Belarius snapped to it, awake and alert the second his head hit the earth. He groaned and threw himself up, clutched onto his side, and felt the breath get knocked from his lungs once again at the sight of what was in front of him.
Aurelie stood, dirt-streaked from head to toe, opposite Belarius.
"Oh," he breathed, fear like a clutch round his heart.
It wasn't just because of Aurelie. It was because he could still hear it, slowing down somewhat, but still behind him. And now he had a fight a few feet from where he was standing. A tribute and a mutt that wanted his head.
She looked at her spear. He looked at his sword. He thought of Luella and what he'd done, what the girl from One had done for a girl that had made her life miserable. He would never make sense of it, but he'd moved on. Belarius felt guilty but that had been her choice to die for Aurelie.
Now it had to be him versus her.
Or it would have been, if not for what happened next.
From their left, two figures darted out and stopped short at the sight of Aurelie and Belarius. His heart shot straight into his throat at the sight of Ivo. He almost smiled and threw his arms around him. Then he saw Prosper, just behind him, and his heart dropped straight into his stomach.
The boy from One's eyes went from Belarius to Ivo and then to the girl not two feet from where he was standing.
"Prosper…" Ivo said, his voice low and worried.
He blinked twice, quivered with anger, and lunged.
Prosper wanted one thing and one thing only in that moment.
Aurelie saw it flash in his eyes before he'd taken the first step, and before he could take another, she brought her hand up and slapped him round the face. Prosper groaned and fell backwards, bringing a hand to his cheek where a red mark was starting to burn into his skin.
"You…" he was seething with rage and anger and sadness and everything else that had plagued him for too long. "You killed-"
Prosper was cut off by a terrible roar. Belarius and Ivo, staring at one another, then at Prosper and Aurelie, moved their eyes over their shoulders in the direction of the path southwards. More than anything, he wanted to kill Aurelie where she stood. Maybe then he would feel better. Maybe then he could stop what was happening to him and put an end to everything that was changing Prosper in a way he'd never wanted to change.
But when she met his eyes and brought her spear up, it wasn't to defend herself against him, it was to defend herself from what rounded the corner and stared at the four Careers.
Prosper tensed up at the sight of the beast before him. His anger was replaced with a fear that set heavy in his gut. He exchanged a look with the two Career boys before him, two of his friends that he'd wanted to use to kill the girl to his right, and then glanced down at his weapon.
"We can't… not now…" Ivo sounded panicked, but he also tried to make himself sound as calm as possible. He was the only one who seemed to be able to put thought into language. "Kill each other soon, we can't fight when this…" He was cut off by the mutt moving straight for them.
In its charge, Prosper made a decision that angered him once again. He looked at Aurelie, she looked at him, and together they nodded. He thought of Luella and felt the fear in his stomach morph into that of an inextinguishable grief.
He wanted her back more than anything. He wanted her back because she embodied everything that had been the centre point of Prosper's life up to this day. He was someone that could bring good to this world by helping other people. By making them feel special.
And now he had to help a girl that had killed his best friend. He had no choice. The mutt met the four of them and all doubt left his mind as its arm came swinging for his skull. He brought the flat of his spear up to block it away, rounding it back round his head and slicing open its forearm.
"Aurelie, you take it from the left. Belarius and I from behind. Prosper, try to hold it off from the front," Ivo's voice took on an impressive tone of leadership. Prosper nodded almost immediately and started to force it backwards. It was huge. If all four of them stood on each other's shoulders, maybe then they'd reach its height. Aurelie was pallid with fear. Prosper wanted to feel good at seeing her show such a thing, but he felt it just as much. He felt no such satisfaction at seeing her tremble.
She was the monster. Not him. He might have craved her death, but after that… after that he could – he would – feel normal again. I have to, for Luella. For me.
The mutt's other hand was like a club, short and stunted but round and strong. It tried to ward off Ivo and Belarius, bringing it back round its body to push Aurelie backwards a few steps as she cut into its left leg. Prosper could have ran. Any of them could have. But Ivo and Belarius would never abandon one another. Aurelie was far too proud to abandon a fight; one thing Prosper loathed about her. And Prosper, with her right next to him, could not just give up this opportunity.
He continued to force it backwards with each swing of his spear. The claws on its larger hand brought tears to his eyes as it grazed across his cheek. The same cheek Aurelie had slapped. He winced and shook away the pain, burying it down deep as he continued to push the attack on.
For a moment, with Aurelie proving her strength, with Belarius and Ivo a team as always, friends united in their fight, and Prosper's vigorous determination getting the best of the beast, they all thought they had a chance.
And then it started to grow.
The bristles on its back extended into long tendrils that swirled through the sky and lashed out at the four of them. They were all pushed back, forced onto the ground and away from the monster. Prosper watched its larger arm grow even larger. Its legs snapped and cracked and twisted into gargantuan limbs that were taller than all of them combined.
He watched with fear in his throat, blocking out any noise, as it started to move for him on the ground.
In that one moment, he knew he'd made a mistake. He'd let everything that had happened in this Arena get the best of him, right from the very start. He was weak. He was nothing like the hero he'd painted himself out to be. They did not exist. There was no such thing as a good person that came from where he did, volunteered to do what he wanted to do, because they were killers.
Prosper had taken lives to protect someone, but what about the people he had killed? They had lives. Families. Friends. People to fight for that he'd hurt more than anything. With the beast moving for him, a silent tear moved down his cheek as he closed his eyes and waited for death.
He waited a second. Then ten more. Then thirty. Maybe he was already dead and he hadn't realised it. But when he opened his eyes, he was greeted by a roar that trembled through the ground and nearly split it in half. He balled his hands into fists and watched Aurelie stab it in the leg. When it was distracted, Belarius and Ivo, sharing one quick look with Prosper who had been a second from death, started to attack it to draw it away.
They were helping him, like he'd always wanted to help them. Even Aurelie, a while ago, had been someone despite her true nature, he'd wanted to look after. And they were doing it for him. The girl he wanted to murder, the killer of his best friend, protecting him.
He stood up on shaky legs and grabbed hold of his spear.
Prosper made it one more step when it reared backwards, up into the air on its back legs, and growled into the sky. Its large arm whacked Aurelie right in the ribs. She tumbled backwards and groaned in pain as she squirmed on the ground. Belarius and Ivo looked at their enemy on the floor, in agony, and took a step forwards.
Prosper went in for the attack. But it was too late. They could have let him die and escaped. They could have been survivors and let Prosper take the fall so they could secure their lives. But even Aurelie had done something no Career was supposed to do. Killers did not die for other people. But these killers did.
It bent down and clamped its teeth round Ivo's head. Belarius could barely get a scream out before his best friend's face was torn in two, the forehead and eyes being swallowed, and the rest of the body falling down in a gory heap.
Belarius threw up and fell to his knees.
Aurelie looked at the sight and collapsed backwards.
Prosper listened to the cannon cut through the sky and launched his spear right at the mutt. He'd killed Varity for Luella. He'd killed Garner for Luella. And he would kill this mutt for someone that had died saving his life.
He impaled it right through its chest. A second ago, the cut might have done nothing. But with a kill secured, the Gamemakers let the mutt take the fall and writhe in agony as it died in a heap.
Prosper breathed heavily as he looked at Aurelie and Belarius, on the ground. And then on Ivo's gruesome corpse. From someone that had stuck to the shadows, to a boy that had proven himself to everyone.
And now he was dead. All because he'd tried to save Prosper's life
Heroes never won.
Aurelie didn't want to see.
She didn't want to see what had become of Ivo's body. But as she stood on her legs, a pain clawing down her spine and making her entire body shake, her eyes couldn't help but guide their own way towards the blood that spurted round his broken skull.
Belarius' eyes were on his torso. His hand, extended outward. His legs. Anything but what had become of his friend. She felt sorry for him. She felt sorry for Prosper. For Luella. For Darina. For everything that had happened to everyone, living or dead.
Aurelie wanted out. She wanted to go home.
She wanted peace.
When Prosper finally stood up, the mutt dead before him, he looked down at Belarius and took a step in his direction. Aurelie watched her District partner flinch when he saw Prosper attempt to comfort him. She admired that about Prosper. Even after everything, faint flickers of his old self poured through. He couldn't see Belarius in pain.
But he doesn't know the truth…
Prosper turned around and faced Aurelie. Rather than anger turning his face a fiery shade of red, something else made his entire skin prickle with heat. He looked down at the ground and then at the mutt. When he pulled his spear free, Aurelie didn't tense. She didn't do anything but watch him step back to where he had been when he'd thrown it. He tried to keep his eyes from landing on her but he couldn't.
"Aurelie…" His voice was weak and hoarse. Shattered and broken. He took a step in her direction. Aurelie didn't flinch like Belarius had. She stayed on her two feet and let him take another step. Then another.
She was not afraid. Of others things, she was terrified. But not Prosper. Not some poor, unfortunate boy who didn't understand the world. Who was trying so hard to see, with everything that had happened to him, but was breaking under the reality that pushed down on his shoulders. Aurelie had told herself she was the only one who really had a concept of the Games already in her head before they began.
She would not die. But neither would she be that same girl, the same girl who told Prosper off for being what he was.
As he levelled his spear, targeted for her chest, she wanted him and everyone else to find the sort of peace she'd never had for herself. The Games had been a mistake. But they'd also changed her. Maybe for the better.
She didn't feel so angry.
The problem was, she didn't feel much of anything.
She dodged his first attack, the spear heading straight for her stomach. She then twisted out of reach and punched him in the back of the head, bringing him down to the ground on one knee. Aurelie watched Prosper's eyes go between a faint trace of the rage that had driven him towards her before the mutt, and what he now felt.
"You have to…" he stood up and swung again, attempting to split open her chest. She hit his attack away but never went for her own. Never went to strike him down. Something made her stop herself. "You have to… die… you have to die…"
When he went to cut open her neck, something from behind knocked him to the side before Aurelie could defend herself. Belarius stood over Prosper, shaking his head with tears in his eyes. The light in them had been snuffed out with Ivo's life. He was practically on the verge of total collapse.
But he still had something in him. Aurelie looked at Belarius and Prosper, staring at one another, from below and from above, and saw her District partner kick his spear away and shake his head.
"She didn't do it."
Prosper went still. She hadn't thought it possible, but he went even paler then, before quivering on the earth like a leaf in the wind.
"No… no she did… she did…"
Aurelie knew why he wanted her dead so much. He thought she had killed Luella. Maybe before her death, she'd thought about it. She'd thought about silencing her cries, or those incessant laughs before the horrors of the Games smacked her stupid, beautiful face with a terrifying reality. But the thought of actually doing it, knowing what Luella had done for Aurelie, made her hate herself even more than she might have done before she'd volunteered.
"I didn't," Aurelie said, "I didn't kill Luella."
"Yes you did." Prosper tried to stand up, but Belarius kicked him back down. "You did. There's no other…"
"I did it." Belarius eyes didn't meet Prosper's. "I killed Luella. I killed Luella because she gave her life for Aurelie. She died for her."
His pretend reality was crumbling down. He shook his head and scrambled backwards. Prosper made it onto his feet before either could stop them, pulling out a knife from behind his back, clipped to his belt, and waving it in front of him.
"Luella would not… she wouldn't die for… for you." Prosper's voice was on the brink of hysteria. He kept looking at Ivo's dead body and the mutt and shook even harder. "You made her life hell. She wouldn't have died saving someone like you. No. No. You killed her!"
Belarius and Aurelie looked at one another. They didn't share a mutual affection, they didn't share much of anything. But when Prosper's voice went silent and his eyes landed on the ground at their feet, then at his knife, then at the two of them, they were united in one thing.
When he went in for an attack, clouded by the lies he'd told himself, Belarius and Aurelie disarmed him and drove him off. He scampered away, a backpack over his shoulder, and out of sight. They could still hear his sobs as he descended into darkness.
Now it was just the two of them.
Belarius laughed. A sad, strangled laugh that had nothing of the old Belarius in it. "I'm surprised you didn't kill him."
Aurelie laughed too. She couldn't stop herself. "He's dead already. The Prosper that came into this Arena died the moment he drove a spear into that girl's face."
Belarius nodded and looked at the sword in his hand. Aurelie watched his eyes move for her spear, and when he sidestepped away from her, she knew what had to happen.
She knew what she had to do.
His knees knocked together as his laughs soon turned to sobs. His eyes looked over his shoulder and landed on Ivo's body. The bond they'd shared matched nothing Aurelie had ever shared with anyone. She wouldn't know their friendship because she'd driven off anyone that had tried to break through her walls.
She'd always thought she was better than people because it was easier to think that than blame herself. And now Belarius, laughing and crying all at the same time, couldn't even hate her for what she'd made him do. The Careers could have been something different if it wasn't for her.
Friends did not exist in the Arena, but they could have shared something close to it. Belarius wouldn't have killed Luella. Ivo wouldn't have killed his own District partner. Prosper wouldn't have fallen apart. And Aurelie wouldn't have had to face her true self.
If she'd only have been different.
But she wasn't. She was this. She was a bad, terrible person.
"Do you think there's something after?"
Aurelie shrugged her shoulders. "None of us can know."
"I hope there is," he smiled. "Maybe they'll be there. Ivo. Darina. Luella. Everyone. Maybe it's better there."
"Maybe it is," Aurelie smiled with him and watched his grip tense round his sword. She readied her spear and let Belarius make the first move.
"Goodbye, Aurelie."
He walked forwards. "Goodbye, Belarius."
His sprint ended with Aurelie's spear impaling him through the chest. She made it quick and painless. After all the hurt she'd caused existing as herself, it was the least she could do.
Belarius had found his peace.
Now Aurelie had to find hers.
Another day in the Arena slowly came to an end.
Rell waited until the faces faded from view. Belarius and Ivo. Two more Careers down.
With their deaths confirmed, she moved out from her shelter and towards her next destination. She had a plan. She'd had a plan for the whole day. But with the Career pack cut in half once more, hope became a real thing inside of her.
She thought of Cillian as she moved back the way she'd came. Most of her life, Rell had lived because she'd known the inevitability of death. People died every second. Every day. Week, month and year. Twenty-three died for the sake of the Hunger Games, and then it went on and on and on.
She'd known the second she'd been reaped if she wanted to win, the friendly boy that had looked at her vomit on the escort's shoes, with a sweet smile on his face, would have to die. And now that he was, Rell hated the way the world worked even more than she already did.
Maybe the Careers killed him or maybe they didn't. She wasn't angry at them. She'd never really been angry at any one person for a long period of time. She said what she felt and defended those that she wanted to help because Rell didn't hold back from doing what had to be done.
She wouldn't hate those that were here because the Capitol had corrupted them into believing this was their path. She would hate those that had put this into place, knowing what it meant to kill twenty-three innocent kids every year and continuing with it anyway.
Rell wanted to live to prove a point. She wanted to live to show them they couldn't just expect her to die.
And to live, the others had to do just that.
Rell wasn't far off from where she'd started yesterday. The sand hill was in the distance, above the houses where the Cornucopia was stationed behind the line of buildings. Eveny was still out there. She wanted to find her friend more than anything, but Rell had to cling to the hope that they would cross paths eventually.
What might have to happen wouldn't turn out well, but she'd still have the chance to see someone she cared about. Before the inevitable once again came to take away those that only wanted to live. Life wasn't fair.
She first came across Marshall, tucked away in the shadows of a house. Before she could open her mouth to say two words to him, he was out of sight and deeper into the village. The second person she came across however, closer to midnight, stopped and watched her step closer towards him.
Ryon Blythe held onto his sword, but he didn't lift it to attack her. He smiled when she smiled. His eyes were tired and pained, his entire body shaking with some burden that had become part of his life. Rell felt the exact same way. It was the burden of being a normal teenager, forced to kill other normal teenagers.
The burden of living in a country as rotten as the one they were forced into.
"What are you doing so close to the front of the Arena?" Rell asked, curious like she'd always been.
He smiled. "I've been walking and looking and searching and walking some more. No idea what for. Maybe a fight. But I don't really feel up for one."
"Me neither."
The two shared a laugh. It felt strange to laugh, but also freeing. The Capitol could take away whatever they wanted from them, strip them for parts and piece together a new monster crafted in horror.
But they would never steal the ability to smile from a girl that lived by her laughter.
"What about you?" He raised an eyebrow, stepping forwards. "Why are you here?"
"A plan."
"Plan?"
"Two Careers are still out there. Two Careers, me, you, my ally, Marshall and the boy from Twelve. He's at the Cornucopia."
"And you want to go say hello?"
Something about the mention of the boy from Twelve made Ryon's fear show itself too clearly. Lucas' ally was dead. Ryon's very own District partner. Maybe something had transpired between the three of them that made Ryon fear the presence of Lucas. But Rell needed this to work. It was the only way she could live to show the world that she couldn't be beaten, even when they stole one of the nicest, friendliest, gentlest boys from existence.
She would live so he could live on.
"The Games are always brought back to the Cornucopia. The bloodbath starts it, the finale ends it. If we're together – the outliers – then a fight will be pushed towards us. The Careers will come."
"And when they do?"
Rell frowned. "And when they do, if we're united together, one final alliance, they'll die."
"And when they die?"
"And when they die, the fight continues. But it'll be a fairer fight. A fight where someone can survive and live on in memory of those that didn't choose this fate."
"Inspiring," Ryon smirked. "Any luck with the others?"
"Marshall ran. Eveny is still out there. But me and you are here, and Lucas is at the Cornucopia. If we can convince him, it'll still be the three of us and the two Careers. Maybe we'll die. But at least we'll die on our terms. Not scurrying around like rats in the shadows, alone, scared shells of ourselves waiting for death."
Ryon nodded.
When he extended a hand, she met it and secured their temporary truce. Peace was an impossible thing in the Arena, but for a short while, they could find it in hope that these Games could be brought to an end and finished up soon.
She was done waiting and praying and hoping she wouldn't die. If she was going to die, it was time to damn well get on with it. Rell didn't crave a fight. She was no killer. But Ryon and her were ready, walking towards the Cornucopia, to bring about an end to the Games and find out who would survive.
They saw Lucas in the distance, when they stepped towards where everything had begun, and made the short walk towards him.
Rell wanted to win. But to win, the Careers had to die. Everyone else had to die.
One final push, and she could make it. Not just for herself, but for everyone else that had fallen for some sick idea about what peace meant for the Capitol.
The end wasn't too far off. She could see it, on the horizon, a way out of this Arena. Her future.
She'd do anything for it.
Anything for a chance at life.
It meant too much to her.
Ivo Koehn, District Four Male.
Belarius Orleans, District Two Male.
Mack. Ivo ;_; I like Careers like him. I love the types that realise what they have to do, but have things that draw them back from being totally willing to do it. He wanted what was best for people in a way that was more grounded than say Luella or Prosper, but made him feel human and someone that could develop past that ideal. He stood out alone and he stood out with Belarius. Past this point, there wasn't much else going for him. But that doesn't change how much I genuinely enjoyed his character and how much I'm going to miss writing for him and everything that made him a great tribute. Thanks for submitting!
Chaos. Belarius ;_; If the two of them had died together in the same chapter two or three chapters ago, I might have been missing out on development for the one that lasted longer. But I feel that now was a good time to bring about the end to probably the strongest alliance in the Games. Some of them had more members, but these two had a bond that really made them probably the toughest contenders. I enjoyed his charm, his friendliness, but also his understanding of the realities of what people were like and how he couldn't be with everyone. It was something that went really well with Ivo's more trusting side. In the end, building up such a friendship broke him in those last few moments, and past Ivo's death, I couldn't see much else but Belarius breaking even further and losing what made him such a great tribute to write. I'll miss him, like I'll miss Ivo just as much. rip belarivo ;_;
I want to apologise for this being late, but really, by normal standards, it isn't. I guess compared to daily/two day updates it is. So… sorry?
Quick thing; I have a request for those that had to endure me in my really irritating drunken state a few days ago. I spoiled something regarding this story and I'd really like it if it wasn't mentioned in reviews so people who don't know are still left surprised by what might happen. It's only fair, really. The reviews for this story are a spoiler-free zone, thank you ;)
See you with the next chapter!