Author's note: It's once more a long chapter (although less than the last two). I'm terrible at this. This chapter struggled to come together because many of it felt like a huge info dump. It's still an info dump, but hopefully more subtle, you tell me^^.
Thank you chaotizitaet for the inspiration behind most cheerful scene in this chapter, to remind us that Mags is barely an adult.
Thank you all for your reviews. Thank you "Guest" in particular, since you're apparently new, biglebowski and PinaColadaFox, when you'll reach this chapter.
Date: Year 9, September. Twenty-five days after Mags' victory.
"That'll be all for you, Mags. I'll deliver straight at your home if you're waiting for something important," the postmaster said.
Mags slipped the small bundle of letters in a waterproof folder and smiled in thanks. Hopefully the construction works would start soon. She resisted the urge to tear open the envelopes to check and exited the tiny post-office.
After Rio's and Douglas' burial Mags had written a letter explaining to Achlys why she'd felt it necessary to intervene on behalf of Hurley Garron and his daughter. About how a display of leniency (she hadn't dared to write fairness) would encourage citizen to trust the Capitol enough to turn in the criminals in their midst. Her head had been splitting when she sent it, for it had taken four hours of heated discussion on the most ridiculous details with her mother and Cara Corduroy to reach a satisfactory draft. Achlys wouldn't believe for a second that Mags had written this alone, but Cara and her mother had forcefully argued that sounding like a peasant was never an advantage.
Mags had finally bowed to their greater experience and forced herself to stay seated in the suffocating studio until she had finished the accursed letter. Between Cara's excellent grasp of people and keen eye for anything that could be construed as an insult in harmless seeming sentences and her mother's experience with proper diplomatic phrasings, the result was a stunning display of all-too-polite flowing prose, and eight pages long. Miraculously, the content had not been lost in the process.
Achlys had answered a few days later, arguing that a weak justice system was worse than no law at all, because it led criminals to believe transgressions were acceptable. She then had agreed that people in Four, uneducated and stupid as they were, needed to be treated like children to draw some good out of them and that she would be indulgent as long as there were results.
At first, Mags had only understood that they'd better stop vandalism in the next few months or Four would see its numbers of peacekeepers doubled, regardless of the explosives situation. Her mother had then spelled out the subtleties in Achlys' polite missive, leaving Mags to feel insulted. Not because she'd missed Achlys' jibe at the intelligence of Four's citizen, but because Achlys didn't even stop to consider they would comply if the system was fairer. Children. How arrogant. The President had used an unnecessary amount of flourishes, which was certainly her way of saying 'you can't beat me at the diplomacy game.' Angelites had smiled wryly at that, assuring Mags that had the President been offended, she would have made it very clear. Mags wasn't too thrilled at the thought that she was entertaining Achlys, but the victor had been neither threatened nor summoned to the Capitol, and that was a great victory in itself.
Mags slowed her pace as she passed the train station, craning her head to see over the low spiked fence. It was bustling with unusual activity for an early Restday morning. There were two-score peacekeepers in town, with half the squads rotating every three years to avoid corruption, and over half seemed to be there.
The uniformed enforcers were busy guarding, examining and storing away the weapons that had been turned in by the population. The two weeks were almost over and Mags smiled in sheer relief as she realized the first hurdle had been crossed. The explosives were there, few but many more than Mags would have thought. These weren't just the contents of someone's basement. Marlin had told her that the sailors had headed out in force one night and come back bruised but with a crate and full bags. They'd evidently known who'd sold dynamite to Douglas, and they'd obtained the stash. They'd given no names to the peacekeepers, but Mags now suspected they would, if the smugglers decided to retaliate in any way.
She squared her shoulder, feeling like a salmon at the base of a waterfall preparing itself for the big climb. This was just the beginning. Town Creneis housed little more then ten percent of Four's total population. Mags didn't want to move from her birth town, but she knew she would have to travel as soon as the situation here was calmer, to get the whole district to work together, from the industrial Lycorias to the smallest fishing villages.
Achlys' trip to Creneis hadn't been kept secret. Whatever advanced cameras the hovercraft or the bodyguards had carried had enabled district wide, maybe Panem wide, broadcast during obligatory viewing hour - also called the evening news-, and anyone who'd missed the first had had the chance to see a second - and a twentieth - transmission, with spots on peacekeepers vividly illustrating the consequences of protecting criminals added in. Mags wondered if Achlys had also sent ultimatums to Lycorias and the other two main towns, Galene and Orithyia, or if Creneis was truly a thorn in the Capitol's foot.
Why would her town be special? The victor tried to think strategically.
There was nothing but fishing villages in a radius of a hundred miles of Creneis. Mostly smaller villages, housing only a couple hundred people and often difficult to access. The ancient railways which stretched across Panem needed no maintenance, or it would have been impossible for such a small population to control a territory so large, but the technology to build new ones had been lost. The trains ran on coal, but rumor was that an energy source that didn't foul the air and made nuclear seem obsolete had existed before the Cataclysm. The fishermen from the villages came to Creneis twice a week to sell their catch, either on the market or to the food processing factory a little further downstream. The large factory sent full trains to the Capitol thrice a week in special refrigerators for conservation, and was the main source of jobs for those who lacked the fitness to work at sea.
Mags remembered Sylvan's words about peacekeepers. Districts One and Two provided nine tenths of the peacekeeping forces. District One was the size of Four, with roughly fifty thousand inhabitants, and Two had had triple that number before the rebellion. It was the second most populated District in Panem, but it had sustained very heavy losses during the war. The fortress city housed as many Capitolites as One and Two combined, and Mags didn't doubt they had a small army of their own, but the rest of Panem was a million citizens strong, with half living in District Eleven.
A small smile danced on Mags' face as she juggled with the numbers.
No wonder the Capitol tried to ban villages and organize districts in a cluster of towns and small cities. They couldn't afford to spare twelve peacekeepers for every village, and sending less than ten was dangerous. Unfortunately, Four's economy was dependent on the villages. The fishing boats were old and their operating range was small. Only so many boats could fish in the same place and hope to bring back full nets. The farms had to be close to the factories, or the sea fruit would rot, so it left little space for additional docks in the main towns.
Mags knew she had to talk with the other victors. She needed more facts and these things were not taught in school. Eight could have its citizen all work in the same large city, but Nine, Ten and Eleven? Even if cattle and fowl could be fattened in tiny cages, many herds also grazed on the plains, and their caretakers had to live somewhere. Fife had talked of the endless grain fields and heavily industrialized towns, with immense grain processing factories employing over half the population. She'd said the tractors were all stored in town, so Mags guessed even those who worked the fields didn't live far from the main settlements.
Was Four really an exception? Was this why her district was harder to control?
She frowned as she continued to walk towards the barracks. If Four built better fishing ships, that could sail farther, the villages would become obsolete and everyone could set sail from the main towns. Without villages, without hideouts, the black markets would be choked and rebellion would become impossible. Was this why Achlys supported the modernization of the ships?
Mags' head began to pound. She would have to build new ships, but not too many, not too modern, and without angering the Capitol. Every day she realized reality was much more complex than what she had once thought. She couldn't afford not to think about these things, and yet she felt so inadequate compared to the magnitude of the task.
"Miss Mags," a chiming voice called.
Mags turned around, wincing at the stupid title, but Marquise seemed to find it too amusing to forego.
"Spare us a minute, will you," the blonde peacekeeper said, gesturing towards the barracks. "We're set to avoid kidnapping number two and we need to put some order in your building plans. We're not used to explaining our job to civilians, so if you don't get the long words we use, it's quite fine. Just nod and approve. It'll always be something clever and soldierly," she said, her small smile belying her serious tone.
"Isn't makeup forbidden in your line of work?" Mags said with raised eyebrows. Marquise reminded her of the fashion magazines she'd glimpsed in the Capitol's hospital, the one for teen girls specifically, in which the models weren't altered yet.
Mags had gotten to know the woman from One well enough in the last weeks to see that Marquise had not become a peacekeeper by choice and cared little for discipline. She was the most outgoing of the patrol assigned to Mags by far and seemed happy to talk to someone about anything other than her job. Mags sometimes felt treated like an acquaintance Marquise could gossip with. Under the guise of 'protection', Marquise had informed her that her mother's former employer had a sixteen year-old mistress he gave lavish gifts to (that girl could be a nasty rebel, Mags, she could be trying to get closer to your mother, and if so, the man is funding rebellious undertakings, and must be brought to justice), or that a peacekeeper called Dicey had fake buttocks because his had gotten bitten off by a mutt who'd escaped during shooting practice (We'll not be guarding you forever, Miss Mags, you know the rules of turnover, you might get stuck with him, it's only fair I warn you, he's a real slow runner). Mags was torn between amusement, dismay and the reminder of why she'd rolled her eyes so much during her last year of school.
Marquise's full red lips had twisted into a predatory smirk. "It is a weapon of choice against foolish male troublemakers. They fail to take you seriously and I get to look hot."
Mags smiled, feeling a pang as the young woman's airs reminded her of a shallow Constantine. "As long as the rest of the patrol takes you seriously..."
"You're important, Mags, not just anyone gets assigned to you," Marquise said with a superior wave of her hand as she straightened with unconcealed pride. "Only jealous people believe you can't be hot and competent. They just can't deal with being ugly." Marquise winked, looking suddenly much less arrogant. "Those worthy to be the guard of the great victor all have the intelligence to recognize my outstanding qualities," she finished with a grin.
"If the great victor could stop indulging Marquise's overblown ego and join us," a male voice cut in from the inside.
Patrol Leader Ajax impatiently gestured for her to sit. The tall man had shown to be stubborn, brisk and to expect the worst of everyone. Mags tried to have her mother interact with him whenever possible, for ever since the kidnapping, he'd eyed Angelites with a respect that surpassed the cool courtesy he reserved to Mags. The girl had guessed that Ajax had less trouble taking an adult woman seriously than a seventeen year old, even if Mags tried her hardest to be professional. The patrol leader had not hidden his distaste at the thought of letting Mags interfere with the way he guarded her, but he had listened to her arguments and when his two colleagues from District Two had acknowledged the wisdom to Mags' demands, he had relented.
Indra and Alaric were already seated on the round reunion table. They reminded her of Styx, strong, proud and professional. They were the most cool-headed and reasonable, as long as Mags was careful not to hint at any kind of treachery. These people would die for the Capitol and would kill her in a blink if Achlys gave the order, but for now, they were helpful enough.
The short Legend, who was bulky enough to lift the table, sat further away. He never talked much during meetings, but his blue eyes didn't miss anything.
Mags sat down, her eyes on the papers that had been laid before her. If the last weeks had taught her anything, it was that peacekeepers liked things to be done well and efficiently, even the cruelest among them.
"When will the material for the houses come?" Ajax begun, his traits stern. "If you want people to build their own homes, fine, but they'll be using dangerous tools, and we need those locked up at night and monitored during the day. Lieutenant Falx will want some warning to keep things clean. We might need reinforcements, and we'll sure need them if you build your academy at the same time."
"The academy will be built later, when the people will have learned how to build houses that last," Mags said.
She blushed when Marquise muttered 'clever' with an appraising expression. She didn't mean to sound like it was okay for people's houses to be rotten.
"The shipwrights have the most experience in woodwork, so we'll need them," Mags said, "and with your permission I'll give them one week warning before the works start."
"You won't get more builders from Seven? The two that have been repairing houses for a year will soon return home. They seemed to think a new group would be sent over to finish the work. The foundations for six houses have been rotting for the last year." Alaric paused and cracked a smile. "If you pay me extra, my father was in masonry, I know a fair bit."
Ajax threw him a warning glare. "Your hobbies are your own but don't slack on the job."
"I'm interested, we'll talk about it, Sir," Mags promised Alaric, refraining the urge to point out that all of Creneis' spare budget went into rebuilding and that it was the Capitol that set impossibly high prices. They had been waiting for a score of workers from Seven for three years. "I should have the information on the wood arrivals in here," Mags said, taking the letters out. She hoped they had agreed to send out tools and basic plans too, even if she was sure house-building plans were easy to obtain on the black market.
"Why aren't you building your academy in Lycorias? More people, more specialists..." Marquise said, eyeing her quizzically, "not that Creneis isn't cosy, but it's small and in the middle of nowhere."
"I want to be able to select the teachers, to make people come, and to control the constructions. It might take more time here, but it'll be more solid and there will be less interference or power plays," Mags replied. It was her mother's words, from a discussion they'd had when Mags had first talked of volunteering. The core reason was that being a victor was hard enough without being a stranger.
Mags was running. She was shamefully late.
She'd promised to have lunch with her mother and sister, Esperanza was at school every other day of the week, but the discussion with the peacekeepers had taken up her whole morning. She'd then had to run to the Mayor's to apologize for not having met with him like she had planned to, but had to admit she'd gotten much more work done with the peacekeepers. Ajax had the power to organize security, Mayor Bream had the power to talk to people and beg the Capitol for money. She'd given him the written report of what they'd decided with the peacekeepers, and Bream's eyes had almost popped out of his face when he had realized all of Mags' promises about rebuilding had a real chance of being kept.
Mags frowned when she saw Marlin, Mortimer and Maxwell sitting near the cliff's edge, halfway up the private path to her house. Why was Marlin waiting for her with his brothers?
Mortimer bolted to his feet as soon as he noticed her. "We're hungry," he complained, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the house.
"Did word spread out that the fish was better at my place or something?" Mags asked eyeing the three in mild confusion.
"Why do you still buy food at the market? You could get so much better stuff now," Mortimer said, looking personally offended by Mags' decision not to spend on outlandish food, "and invite us for dinner."
"Let her go, Mort," Marlin said, shoving his brother away from Mags. He then grinned. "You keep yourself so busy you forget the important things," he said, shaking his head.
"What, buying honey and cherries?" Mags replied, with a wry smile.
What were they here for? Not that she minded. She'd turned up unannounced at Marlin's place too many times to count.
"For one," Mortimer said, the picture of earnestness. His stomach grumbled loudly on cue.
"Did you warn Mama? If you want cooked food -" Mags broke off when she saw the three boys' huge grins.
"I'll go warn Angelites now," Marlin's eldest brother said.
Mags frowned as Maxwell broke into a run, a grin still firmly in place. The house was in sight, a twenty seconds warning was pointless.
Something clicked in her brain when a strange yet familiar smell reached her nostrils. Meat. Grilled meat. She'd only ever eaten it in the Capitol.
Important things.
"You didn't," she said, disbelief lacing her voice.
"It wasn't my idea, unfortunately," Marlin said, his smile turning apologetic. "Happy birthday, Mags, Come on in."
"Preparing all that food, without touching, was inhuman," Mortimer said, suffering etched on his youthful face, "and you even managed to be two hours late."
Mags snorted at his theatrics. "Yes, I'm evil," she deadpanned.
A birthday party. What was she, five? What a waste of money. Still, she couldn't stop a smile from slowly reaching her ears. It was so sweet of them.
"I know, I've been trying to warn Marlin for years now," Mortimer grumbled, his brown eyes sparkling with mirth.
The front door was open, and the smell of meat mixed with other, sweeter scents. Mags rushed to the terrace only to see fifteen people waiting for her around a loaded table that had nothing to envy to the Capitol's feasts. It wasn't honey and cherries, but whole rabbits, platters full of cheese, fresh food she lacked the vocabulary to describe, and enough grapes to hide a child in. Mags couldn't believe her eyes.
"His idea," Glynn said, pointing at Kyle, "he felt guilty and hopes you'll eat it up."
Caspian and Marlin chuckled, but Mags could only stare at the green eyed boy. His blush made his dark freckles stand out, and Mags suddenly found it the cutest thing she had ever seen. He'd organized this? He had come of his own volition to talk to her mother after everything that had happened? He was braver than she had suspected.
"That's a terrible pun," a girl called out playfully.
Mags tore her gaze away from Kyle and her smile brightened when she saw Dylana sitting between Esperanza and Jett, Glynn's little brother. Esperanza's three best friends were right next to them and were looking at the food with the same air of anticipation as Mortimer, who had thrown a confused glance at Dylana.
"'Eat it up'. Food, Mortimer," Angelites said with an indulgent expression, making her way towards her daughter,"you of all people should have gotten it."
"You're all..." Mags' words failed her and a flush crept up her cheeks.
Glynn's and Marlin's parents were there, obviously having come to give a hand. She was especially thrilled to see Dylana's grandfather standing next to Caspian, amazed the white-haired man had had the energy to climb all the way to the house. He gave her a warm smile, and Mags knew he was here to thank her.
She shut her gaping mouth and forced a smile, her voice was thick with emotion. "Eat, I'll talk later."
A loud cheer rang among the assembled people.
"Mama, have I been that oblivious to what you've been up to?" The young woman said, overwhelmed.
"I don't have a job anymore, it's much easier to be sneaky," Angelites replied, her smile brighter than any Mags had seen since the kidnapping. "Everyone needed a celebration. Your eighteenth birthday is perfect. Kyle was vehement. He said we shouldn't let you believe that what you're doing is anything less than exceptional, and that exceptional should be rewarded." Angelites' voice dropped to a knowing whisper. "I think you have a chance with him, but wait a little to make sure he's sincere."
Mags couldn't remember the last time she had blushed so much.
"I should thank him," she whispered, ignoring her mother's badly concealed smirk.
Kyle was staring at her as she moved around the table to reach his side. Nervousness was written all over his face.
"I can't believe you, Kyle," Mags said, her head shaking slightly of its own accord.
"Saying sorry and then waiting for you to give me stuff to do felt lame, especially since you'd have waited until my sentence was over. I hope you like it," he said, his lips twitching into a shy smile.
She knew Kyle had been scrubbing shells off ships' hulls and repainting the barracks ever since he'd been let out of his cell. His skin was peeling from long sun exposure and his clean clothes were discolored and frayed, and yet he stood tall and dignified, awaiting a word of approval.
"It's... amazing."
Kyle chuckled, relief washing over his features. Mags hadn't remembered him being so handsome.
"Glynn told me you needed to be drugged, tied up and thrown into a cell to actually allow yourself to relax," he said, his green eyes glinting.
Mags bristled, suddenly stung at the thought of Kyle making fun of her. "Glynn needs to learn to shut up," Mags snapped, with more bite than she knew was fair.
She gasped as a foreign hand tickled her side and shot Glynn a mock-glare when the girl just smirked at her.
"I'm leaving with the Swamp Fox tomorrow at dawn, you'll be free of me until Spring," Glynn said, before taking a bite of white cheese, "I suggest you two start eating. There will be left overs, but not of that goat cheese, and it's too good to miss."
Mags froze when she realized the gentle hand on her shoulder was Kyle's. "After the birthday girl," he said, leading her towards the buffet with a roguish smile.
The sun was setting, and many could not afford to stay longer. The Corduroys and Marlin's parents had left early and Dylana had just taken her grandfather home. Mags' smile faded as she thought of Dylana. The girl had spent the afternoon amusing Esperanza and her friends with all kinds of stories, and had truly seemed to enjoy herself, but Mags hadn't exchanged more than a few words with her. Nevertheless, she had to admit she hadn't had tried so hard to. Talking with Kyle, Caspian, Marlin and Glynn about people and events had been more fun than she'd had in months.
Today, she had really felt eighteen years old.
"Do you need help to pack and clean up?" Caspian asked, swaying a little from the amount they had eaten.
Mags was just as bloated. The fruit cake in the end had been sinfully good. A part of her felt bad for indulging when so many were starving, but not enjoying the feast would not have done any good. Her cheeks still ached for having smiled so much.
"Take whatever you want home and return the dishes once you're done," Angelites said, "but don't worry about the rest. I'll wash everything once you're all gone."
Only Esperanza, Kyle and Marlin remained when Indra walked into their living room holding two identical small children by their shirts.
Mags frowned.
"They're my cousins," Kyle hastily said, a shadow crossing his face, "I told them to come help at sunset."
"Open house, wealthy inhabitants, thieves," the peacekeeper said curtly. Her eyes narrowed when Kyle bristled. "Mags' security is our job, Kyle Sumach, and you haven't given us any reason to trust you." Indra's eyebrows flew upwards when she saw the feast before her. "Happy birthday?" she guessed.
Mags nodded with a helpless grin. "They're fine, Indra," she said, gesturing the twins over, "do you want a bag for you and the others? We have too much."
The peacekeeper froze and then cracked an embarrassed smile. "It's called corruption, Girl." She then sighed. "May I have a big bag? Legend is a pig."
"Lethe, Corentin, start clearing up too, but don't in the peacekeeper's way," Kyle whispered to the wide-eyed children.
Mags suddenly wondered who the twin's father was. The two boys were both waif-like, with thin symmetrical traits that were uncommon to Four. They had their mother's dark hair, but their skin was milky white and their eyes a light brown. Mags knew that Kyle lived with his aunt Narissa, a portraitist, and a friend of the family, Irvette, who baked pots which Narissa sold on the market. Since they'd come to Creneis at the very end of the rebellion, Mags didn't know what had happened to Kyle's parents. She doubted it could be anything other than grim.
Kyle's tense expression morphed into incredulity as soon as Indra had left."Was this calculated, to have those people on your side, or are you just that nice?" he said, his eyes cold as he stared at the retreating peacekeeper.
Mags frowned, disturbed by the hate in his gaze. "How about I walk you home when we've have all the left overs stored away."
Kyle shut his eyes briefly, but when he turned his eyes back on Mags, his easy smile was soft and genuine. "I'd like that." He turned to Marlin who was chatting with Esperanza, "Lethe and Corentin will handle it, you can go home."
Marlin's lips twitched and his eyes went from Mags to Kyle just slowly enough to make a point. He then walked up to Mags and planted a kiss on her cheek. "Happy birthday, Mags. I'll see you tomorrow. Bye Angelites, thank you for having us all here."
"Thank you, Marlin, for helping with the set up and bringing your good mood," her mother replied brightly.
Mags smiled at her cheeky friend, aware that she was blushing again. She turned to the twins and her eyes widened. The two were eight or nine and yet they had managed to clear half the large table in less than five minutes. Her eyes lingered on their clean but ripped clothes and she vowed to thank them for their help with money for new ones.
"Do you know Indra, or is this part of the reason you agreed to kidnap my sister when you thought I was leading Four to ruin?" Mags said, unnerved by the unchecked hate she had seen in his eyes. She was surprised Indra hadn't taken greater offense.
She was careful not to state explicitly her hate of Achlys, even if it would have made him more comfortable around her. She felt like she could trust Kyle, but she couldn't risk her life and that of her family. A surge of hot fury burned her throat. She hated the Capitol for tainting all her interactions with suspicion.
Kyle stared at her for the longest time, his lips pressed into a thin line. She ached to pull him into a hug, to tell him he could trust her, but she feared the nineteen year old would resent what he would perceive as mothering.
"My mother was from the North-Western border, right next to District Five," Kyle said tightly, "Father was from Five. Their village was small, everyone worked in trade, packing, loading and food conservation, since the railway went through there. I think we also were part of the biggest black market in that part of Panem. My parents loaded batteries on boats to get them to Seven, the whole village helped, land smugglers... every kind of illegal goods and the Capitol was clueless. We had the peacekeepers on our side, even during the war. We thought we had something big and solid going on."
Kyle paused, his eyes darting to her to check for her reaction. Mags hung to his every word, her eyes wide and sad. She already knew how this would end.
"We never found out who betrayed us," he whispered, his face tight in anger, "but the Capitol fleet came. They freed mutts on us, disgusting snakes the size of alligators, and fourscore peacekeepers rounded the survivors up once the beasts were through. With my parents and Aunt Narissa, we'd climbed where the mutts couldn't reach. Narissa was fifteen at the time. Dad tried to fight back, to buy us a chance to escape. The war had been going on for years, nobody had ammo, a crossbow bolt went right through his chest."
Mags found herself squeezing Kyle's upper arm. Widows and widowers, families with a single child, cripples, scarred faces and perpetually sunken eyes, no one could live in Creneis and forget there had been a war, but behind those eyes lurked nightmares people tried hard not to imagine.
"I think the screams were the worst, stripping them of all their dignity." Kyle muttered, almost to himself. His eyes hardened and for an instant and Mags could imagine this man hadn't cared if her sister was killed. A hate so bright didn't leave any place for compassion towards strangers. "Narissa..." Kyle said, shaking in fury, "She was real pretty, so some guy figured since my mother had married a foreigner, she'd want one too."
Mags' jaw clenched. She didn't need, nor want, to hear more. Kyle's cousins were nine and looked foreign, there was nothing more to say. She needed Kyle to snap out of it, or his life would never be his own. "You'll let that single horrible day rule your whole life if you see that man in every peacekeeper you encounter. Don't let the Capitol have that kind of power over you."
Kyle paused, the veins in his jaw bulging with rage as he fought to remain calm. "They just left us there, everyone who looked roughly under sixteen, to wander aimlessly and die. Twelve of us, including kids aged four or five who'd just seen their parents eaten. We... Some ran away or stopped eating and just stared and shivered all day long. With Narissa and two others, we managed to find a group of refugees after days of waking South. Irvette was among them. Her and auntie grew close so we followed her here. She'd heard this town was a good place for people who wanted to start anew without being asked too many questions. Narissa was sick and heavy with the twins when we finally got here." Kyle stared at the ground, regaining mastery over his emotions. "It took us three years to get a house, and only because the Lethe and Corentin bumped us up the waiting lists."
He turned to look at Mags, looking highly bothered by her words on power. His voice turned almost pleading.
"The peacekeepers, they're not here to protect us. They're here to remind us we're beaten, not much better than cattle. They're from the districts, like us, but they get away with anything. The Capitol pays them more than most of us we'll ever earn and tells them that they're superior to us. It's all they care about. Those men here, most fought the war. How many girls like my aunt you think they bloodied and left behind? How many kids like my cousins were born? And Lethe and Corentin got lucky Narissa didn't force them out of her. Grandpa was a bastard too, and probably the toughest person in the village, so she kept kids, to prove she could raise them to be better, to be tough and good like Grandpa," Kyle said, a small smile gracing his lips at the memory. His smile fell. "He and Grandma died that day, swallowed whole by those beasts."
"Kyle,-" Mags began softly, afraid to see him drown in the storm of emotions he had unleashed. The war had screwed them up, there was no other word, but the war would never be over, and the districts would forever be broken and beaten, if people didn't let go of the past. She had never forgotten her father. She missed him still and wished he were there to see what she was building, but it was the future they had to devote their energy to, or the Capitol had won.
"I know they're not all the same," he snarled. "I know it, but you're right: when I see those uniforms, I see my aunt pinned down on the filthy ground. I see my parents with a bullet through their head and the bulge of that monstrous slimy creature, fat with my grandfather's body."
Mags stayed silent, knowing he hadn't finished. He had to let it out, only then could he begin to heal.
"I don't know how you do it, Mags. Look at them in the eyes and talk polite about compromises. I don't know where you find the strength to trust them, any of them, to give them a chance." A hoarse chuckle escaped Kyle's lips. "I know I should be glad, because you gave me a second chance, but I killed and raped nobody and never wanted to. I want my district strong and free, even if I did it all wrong before. You and Lazuli were the kids who survived the sea of flames. I remember the day you came back, with you squealing and running around your mother like you had gone crazy." He flashed her a small smile. "It was so cute." His face clouded over again. "It makes me so angry, to remember how they dared to spread so much filth in the ocean. How do you do it?"
Mags turned to stare at Kyle, tension binding her muscles. She knew his anger, she knew it all too well, the unquenchable thirst for justice. The desire for revenge and the taste of triumph. It was a poison that chained people down. Grief and grudges, consuming the survivors and destroying them more surely than any weapon the Capitol possessed.
"I have learned not to be vindictive," Mags began, her eyes burning into his. "the citizens of Four, not the Capitol, must be our greater concern. I want our people happy more than I want the Capitol miserable. If we do not take care of each other, no one will, if we do not rebuild, no one will. We remember the dead, we fight for the living," she forcefully said, voicing the unwavering credo that had kept her sane just after her victory, when she had been alone in the Capitol, with her fresh memories of Constantine, Fife and all the extraordinary rebels she had met as only companions. "Justice is an ideal, tornadoes digging paths of destruction through the district every spring is a reality. Stop looking at your cousins and thinking that someone should have saved your aunt. Look at them and think you can give them a future, a real one, if you don't give up. We'll destroy eventually," Mags said with a grim smile, causing Kyle's eyebrows to shoot up, "but first we must build. If the Capitol falls today, Four remains the disorganized, poor and ill-equipped sad district that it is now."
"We squeeze all we can from the Capitol, then we rebel?" Kyle said, skepticism warring with awe on his features as he put his hand lightly over hers.
"I didn't tell you that," Mags said pointedly, slowly removing her hand. "I'm on good terms with President Achlys. I want it to stay it that way."
Kyle grinned before winking at her. He was looking at her as if he had never seen her before and Mags found herself basking in the open admiration in his eyes.
Mags inwardly chastised herself. She was trusting Kyle more than was safe. But then why wasn't she more afraid?
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