Chapter Twenty-Nine.
Day Eight, Part Two.
Leven Foxe, 17 years old;
District Two Female.
"Etolie!"
The girl from Seven ignores me, continuously, walking as quickly as she can towards the Cornucopia as the sun slides across the smoky sky. She pretends I'm not here. But I am, and with the cannon...
Tallis. Merely thinking about her makes me want to cry. Not again, not after everything. Before Dario, I was finally finding myself. After Dario, with her, it was working again. Something good was coming from that nightmare.
But now that she's probably... dead. Not again. I can't handle that this close to the end, this close to something that means something great: Victory. Proving myself to myself.
I raise the crossbow, not because I want to, but because something tells me I should. I freeze, pointed at her back. "If y-you don't stop, I'll shoot."
The space between us remains static, her body motionless as ash swirls through the sky around the two of us. Then, she twists her neck to stare at me over her shoulder, a furrowed brow, narrowed eyes, pained frown.
"Leave me alone."
Why am I resorting back to this stupid state of needing someone? I'm not like that, I shouldn't be like that. Dario helped me accomplish that at least – standing on my own two feet, not needing a shoulder to cry on. But the final five. Tallis. Lysander. The feast. I've never depended on my skills alone and it's coming back to haunt me. That paranoia... I don't want to die.
"You joined Lysander because you wanted to kill me and Tallis, the two strongest remaining."
She doesn't answer. I feel the unease practically swamping the air, a thick, oppressive coating that makes my throat run dry, lips part, worried that I'll say the wrong thing.
"Tallis is... Tallis is dead-"
"You don't know that," she says, finally, glaring at me.
"Lysander was down there, and Tallis is... was... well she was strong, but that boy- that thing. No, I'm looking at this realistically and my friend is dead."
"Well," she frowns, displaying something other than pent up anger, "I'm sorry. We've all lost someone."
More than just someone. Too many people. All because of the same boy.
"Lysander is the strongest remaining, without a doubt. If we join up for the feast like the two of you were planning before, then we can take him down together. Who knows, seeing us united over him might persuade the other two to do the same. Then from there it's a fair fight, we can die happy knowing someone like him won't make it out alive."
"You seriously hate him huh?"
I nod, clenching my fist. "More than anything."
"Anger can be good. Or it can be awful. I..." she bites her lip, faltering, "don't know... it's the final five. I want to win. It's so close to the end, this just feels wrong."
"Please." Desperation filters in and I know this must look pathetic. I could shoot this crossbow, fire a bolt straight into her heart and it'll be the final four. But knowing another friend, another dependable ally is gone, pushes me to do something that goes against the nature that I should be used to by now. And I'm scared.
Lysander killed everyone in our alliance. Everyone but Gemini – but through his actions, it led to her death anyway. He tore apart a group that actually functioned, knowing something was wrong, but knowing we could contain it as long as we worked together.
And we did.
But it still didn't matter.
"What if the other two don't see it the way we see it? What if they attack us, kill us, and Lysander kills them. At least... alone, I don't need to see you die and feel like I could have done something to stop it. I've already lost an ally... three allies."
"I've lost six."
She smirks. "It's not a competition."
"I think that's the whole point. It is."
It doesn't need to be said, but I think the way her shoulders relax, her face takes on a warmer glow, means I've persuaded her. The relief is welcome, and quickly, lowering my crossbow so it doesn't look threatening pointed up at her – something I know I wouldn't have done anyway, firing a bolt with her back turned – I hurry to join her side.
She's a strong looking girl. The Careers always pride themselves so much that the arrogance can be overwhelmingly stupid. They believe – or we believe – that people like her won't make it over us. But she has. And it feels good, and painful all mixed into one, to have another helping hand.
Lysander won't go down easy and without joining to take him down, we'll fight one another and he'll worm his way into a victory anyone else but he deserves.
We continue to journey across this part of the Arena. With everything settling down, there's a silence to the air, a finality that could only mean that what we're walking into is the very end itself. Here, when the sun disappears and night comes about, the Games will be decided.
"It's weird." Etolie says, looking up at the sky. "It's so close and yet... four still have to die. Four people until one of us can go."
I nod, frowning, thinking about everyone that has passed so we could make it here together. Her friends. My friends. And then the person that doesn't deserve it – but would, obviously make it this far, based on the actions he's committed against those who trusted him.
"It'll be one of us." It has to be me. I don't say that though, feeling a nervous twitch down my arm, the crossbow heavy, Etolie's presence both peaceful and frightening. Because I will have to kill her. Or someone else will so I can win, something that will happen. I've got this far, I can push on to the end.
"One of us." She nods, and together we wait.
It seems to take forever, perched amongst rocks near to the Cornucopia, but soon enough it happens. With the sun for the final time disappearing from view and the moon lighting up the Arena, the volcano behind acts as a sort of lamp to illuminate through the pitch black, the lava lakes smouldering in the background and the city desolate and shadowed further on.
It's beautiful.
But I cast that thought away, remembering where we are, what's about to happen, and nod at a ready and waiting Etolie.
We move forwards, on to the Cornucopia where it all began, and hear the ground opening up. The feast has begun, the table rising, everything slotting into place. I wait for it, not just the bounty, but also the other tributes, hyper-alert with a knife and my crossbow ready.
It appears, the ground closes, and the two of us step forward.
"Oh." Etolie breathes out, staring at me.
I don't reply.
The table is bare.
There's nothing here.
Etolie Laville, 17 years old;
District Seven Female.
I laugh. Loudly. Leven stares at me like I'm insane, her face pale, emotional, shocked at the blank table before us.
But, for me, I just laugh, shaking.
"It should have been obvious."
"What?" her voice sounds angry, maybe at me, maybe at the Gamemakers for this change of events.
"Feasts are perfect for drawing in tributes, who said there actually had to be something on offer? The Gamemakers? They kill us Leven, they're about as trustworthy as Lysander."
Her eyes fall again on the table, stark silver, bare, almost taunting us with the truth and slapping it in our faces. "This isn't about giving us something to help win, it's just about having a victor, finally. They want the end. Let's give it to them."
"There's no one here."
"There will be."
I drop my sword into the ground and pick up a nearby axe. The handle settles into my grip rather well, a familiar sort of feeling. Not the nicest idea knowing what I'm about to use it for, but I hold onto it steadily either way, moving back to the mouth of the Cornucopia.
"In case someone comes round the back."
Leven nods silently and joins me, staring out at the way in front. It's a waiting game. For the final hurdle, time ticks by slowly. Maybe seconds pass. Maybe minutes. But we hear footsteps, gradual in the background that only get louder and faster.
Leven moves forwards first, crossbow out and ready in case it's him, the one guy she won't hesitate for. I pick up my axe and move also, but the figure coming in our direction with a backpack over one shoulder and a sword in the other isn't the boy from One. It's Charles Craft. Boy from Six.
He stops and stares at us, his eyes narrowed, sword in the air ready for any attack. He looks at Leven's crossbow and pales for a second, something I don't blame him for. But then his eyes fall on the table behind us and his brief moment of fear turns into a small grin.
"Nasty pair of thieves aren't you?"
"We didn't take anything." He rolls his eyes, laughing. "Seriously, we didn't."
"What was it? A new knife, food, a bomb?"
"Nothing." I repeat, forcefully.
He sighs and shrugs his shoulders, taking a step towards us, ignoring the crossbow, ignoring my axe, ignoring what this entire situation means and what has to happen.
"I guess I believe you. Why lie when we're about to fight?"
"You wouldn't even get near enough to try, Leven'll fire before you take another step." I don't know why I back her up without thinking about it, but it's quick and easy to do. Trust? I doubt it, but a sense of knowing her without really spending time around her. I know she's a good person, just someone who was brought up in a place different to me.
I can't blame her for that.
"I guess we'll see."
"I don't want to shoot you," Leven's hand falters, her crossbow lowering briefly, "do something for us and I won't. Not now anyway."
"What?" All of a sudden, whatever charm he had is wiped clean with the smile disappearing from his face. Again, the situation would warrant such a reaction. I feel myself tense, ready for something, but wait either way to hear what he has to say.
"Lysander is still alive. Join us, kill him, and then we fight. Simple."
At the mention of his name, Charles nods, almost too quickly.
"Done. Call me stupid but it sounds like a good plan."
Leven drops her crossbow immediately, welcoming the larger boy into our temporary pact. United over the desire to kill the biggest enemy, is it smart or is it insane? Right now, two of us could easily die, one of us waiting for Lysander and Meva and that'll be it.
Done.
But we don't. Part of me enjoys the union, part of me resents it for knowing that I'm so close to winning and too far away because two people I should be killing are sat next to me, blissfully together, waiting for him to arrive.
Maybe I just miss Cort too much. Alfie. Even Riva. And with the faux-feast, everything just feels absurd. In some ways I wish Lysander and I had killed Leven and Tallis like we had planned, then it'd be so much simpler. No connections I'd have to make, nothing of the sort.
Waiting.
Leven and Charles talk. I hear some kind of apology over the girl from Nine, then Charles talking about what he did to her. I wince at the betrayal and keep my mouth shut, knowing whatever I have to say on the subject wouldn't be good.
I hold onto my axe protectively. Whatever's keeping the other two from arriving grates on my nerves, but finally, Leven points out and stands up.
Charles, like the boy back in the Capitol, leaps up to join her side quickly, eagerly. I stare behind them, sat down as footsteps break through the sheet of darkness.
In unison, the three of us hold in a long, drawn out breath. Waiting. The same game we've done since the feast was announced. Waiting.
But the person that breaks through the shadows is the last person any of us expected to see. Leven's crossbow drops out of her hands, a gasp piercing the stunned silence. Charles turns to Leven, then looks over at me.
All I can do is watch Tallis smile, a knife in hand, a backpack over her shoulder, as she stands before us.
Nothing is said. Something needs to happen but everyone stands motionless, like this turn of events is... unimportant.
Do it.
Leven. Charles. Tallis.
I look at them all sort of caught in a trance, maybe over the happiness that Lysander is dead, or maybe over the inkling that this means what we created doesn't matter anymore.
I catch onto that quickly. The girl I crafted with Cort, that open girl, fights against my mind and body. Protesting at what I find myself doing before I can let morality get in the way of it.
A large metal canister next to me, protruding from the mouth of the Cornucopia, feels heavy in my unoccupied hand. Whilst they falter over doing something, I take action.
This is the end.
We act. We don't stand still, waiting.
Charles and Tallis see me, but it's too late. Leven is a Career. We united over the purpose of defeating Lysander, the strongest, but now that title is surely passed to Leven. With her crossbow. Her score of ten. Everything points to her.
The metal canister rings out as it smashes against the back of her skull.
Tallis cries out and runs forwards, but the axe buries itself into Leven's neck before she even hits the ground. I feel a stupid, pathetic tear brim in the corner of my eye, but jump back before Tallis' knife can reach me, swerving round the edge of the Cornucopia and into the shadows.
Charles has gone from sight, lingering on the outer edge as Tallis holds onto Leven's body, whimpering with blood pumping over her hands and staining the grassy floor.
"Leven..." When she looks up, no doubt in my direction, I'm stunned to see no tears, and yet I can feel them on my own face. She lowers the body as the cannon rings out and stands up, gripping onto her weapon, glaring into the darkness.
"You killed her."
I don't give a response. All I know is with Lysander dead, Leven became the biggest target... it had to be done. That's all this is. Doing bad things for the sake of an overall good: winning. And now, Tallis with blood on her hands, a knife gripped between her fingers, poses the largest threat.
The feast has officially begun.
Empty or not, the Gamemaker's have got their wish.
We're fighting. We're killing.
And one of us will win.
Charles Craft, 18 years old;
District Six Male.
The three off us are at a standstill. Leven's body is there, in the centre, lifeless with her blood pouring from the gaping wound in her neck.
To go from unity to betrayal in a few minutes is shocking. But expected. Maybe at first I might have said something, done something, felt something. Tonight though, Leven's death bounces off my surface and I let it slide past me, forgotten.
She had to die. Etolie has to die. Tallis has to die.
Meva has to die.
She's the only one who isn't here, somewhere amongst the city rubble maybe, or closing in on us. I silently pray she won't come, then cast that aside. She has to come so I can win. Someone has to kill her.
Us three though are cut apart from each other in the darkness. Me, on the outskirts, Tallis in the centre near the body, Etolie somewhere either in or around the Cornucopia. No one makes any movements, either out of fear of taking the first step, or the worry of retaliation.
I keep my sword level and eyes cast into the red-black dim glow of the night air around the golden Cornucopia. Soon, something will have to give.
Tallis' arrival marking Lysander's death kicked things into action. Now, the next part has to begin. I'm not so eager to kill, but I'm eager to win. It's a fuel that helps me compose myself and keep calm. I was earlier. I thought rationally. I didn't sprint straight in with the crossbow pointed at me, despite fear once again running rampant through my body.
I can see Tallis clearly, it's Etolie I'm worried about. With her axe and the shadows she could be anywhere, could be doing anything.
In the distance, a large section of a skyscraper left intact starts to peel away, crumbling into a dust cloud that spreads towards us. I brace myself for it, but it drifts away, dispersing. Alongside it however, with concrete falling in chunks to the ground, the catalyst to our standstill makes herself known.
The Gamemakers have made their move, pushing her so something happens.
Meva runs, avoiding a piece of debris that nearly squashes her into the grass, and flings herself into Tallis without looking forwards. The two go down in a mess of arms and legs, nails raking skin and rolling backwards, trying to pull away.
Meva cries out my name but I hold back the urge. Maybe a few days ago, I'd have saved her. I did, from the buildings that were going to squash her. But now, I feel my limbs shaking, a sense of loyalty combating everything that I've taught myself.
Tallis grabs her knife and narrowly misses Meva's skull.
Quickly, like she did when murdering Leven, Etolie dives into the fray and almost takes Tallis' head from her shoulders. The girl from One with an attacker on one side and an unfortunate confrontation on the other, rounds on Etolie and grabs her by the waist, avoiding another axe blow and charging straight into the side of the Cornucopia.
When she makes impact, Etolie cries out, falling in a heap, moaning. Tallis is about to take her out when Meva's on her again. Maybe believing Etolie did what she did to save her, believing she owes her something.
I only watch.
Not because I don't want to do something, but because... it's smart not to. If they can take each other out, I'll be going home without having to even worry about dying from a fight. It's cowardly but it's the best way out.
Meva punches Tallis in the jaw, a weak punch though, failing to exert much force into the attack. Tallis stabs out and grazes Meva's shoulder. On the ground, Etolie stirs and leaps into the back of Tallis' legs, bringing her down, crashing into Meva. All three girls are on the ground, pulling, thrashing, stabbing, all of it at one another. Trying to kill.
Etolie pulls away from the two and jumps up, kicking Tallis off from Meva and sending her axe down. She rolls out of its reach, some of her hair being cut away, but with her own leg she sends her foot into Etolie's stomach. She buckles over and Meva crawls in the direction opposite from the fight, the other two distracted against one another.
Instead of joining it again, though. Instead of trying to fight, trying to kill, trying to be the tribute that we've all become, Meva finds me hidden in the background.
We lock eyes. All it takes is one step from her and I'm shaking my head, forcefully, to myself and to her, willing her away.
I told her. I told you, Meva. This isn't what it was, not when we could be friends, not when we were laughing on the staircase, piecing back together something we lost through the act of killing. We both felt it and that connection is what makes this so much harder.
Because... because this is the final fight. We're near the final three where the Capitol expects their finale.
Over by the Cornucopia, Tallis tries to catch up to Etolie but again the girl uses the shadow of the Cornucopia to her advantage and Tallis, being smart about it, backs up to Leven's body again. We've taken our previous positions of the standstill.
Waiting for something.
Only this time, Meva is almost near me, smiling at me with greasy, dirty hair hanging in clumps round her face, blue-rimmed eyes, scratches and bruises marring her arms and legs. We've all been through hell.
We've all killed.
We all have to kill.
"Charlie..."
I hold onto my sword tighter, closing my eyes for a second, muttering a silent apology. When she's near enough to me to reach out her arms, either for a hug or something else, I swipe my sword to the left.
The force behind the attack is powered through some unknown strength. I cry out her name when her eyes widen in that brief second of realisation, and then it slices through her neck, all the way from left to right. A cannon rings out when her body goes one way and her head the other.
My old ally.
My friend.
And I killed her.
Her head rolls once and then comes to a halt. I look away from it, biting my lip, closing my eyes again to fight back a round of tears that could ruin me. I did it because I told her. I told her if it came to it, if we ever met up again, there'd be no choice.
She was an obstacle on a path I never wanted but had to take. Victory at all costs. I learnt that through Assisi, through Tamarin and through Meva.
Etolie appears from the mouth of the Cornucopia, Tallis faces the two of us, changing focus between me and then the girl from Seven.
I step over Meva's body once, then freeze, watching for something.
It's come to this.
The final three.
The final fight.
Two of us die. One of us goes home.
The finale.
Leven Foxe, District Two Female.
Meva Ralline, District Three Female.
Leven became one of those tributes that really started to come into their own as the story progressed. I did have her down as Victor for the majority of this, well, until around halfway I'd say. But as other characters also started to develop, I changed it. Not because my opinion on her dropped, it just made more sense for one of the three finalists to win over her. But Leven was amazing to work with. First she was a girl full of doubt, nice and all, but she never really saw how good she was at what she could do. With Dario everything started to change and that's probably what made it difficult for me to kill off Dario quite early as well. Leven's development was obvious to me from the beginning, I wanted her to become a stronger character, accept what she had to do, who she was, but not change in a way that took away from the fact she was actually a decent human being. I'm happy how it came to end, enough vulnerability there in the sense that she still needed someone, but showing strength to do what she had to do to win. A great tribute!
Meva, funnily enough, jumped around my placings for a long time. She went far, then I had her as a bloodbath, then a finalist, but settling on fourth seemed the best option out of all of those. Her last POV kind of did wrap up her character, giving a way for me to conclude everything she'd been through. She was a normal, decent girl who was helpful but also smart enough to not be fooled by other people. I think when you're just a girl who wants to be good to others, it can become boring, but through some of her actions, through being with Charlie, something really came from that which aided development. It wasn't the greatest development, I mean she was a realist, she knew that she didn't stand much of a chance. But I'm still really happy I didn't kill her off in the bloodbath and took her this far, otherwise her early bit with Celeste, a lot of Charlie's own development, and some other decent parts to these Games wouldn't have happened.
Who do you think will win?
Who do you want to win?
And there we have it. The final three have been revealed.
Tallis, Charles and Etolie. Big congrats to the submitters of these three, they're all wonderful, but with the next chapter, two will join the others and we'll finally have the Victor! I can't wait, that's probably why I wrote this chapter all today so I could get to the finale.
One more Games chapter!
