I recently thanked my favorite guests, now I want to thank some special signed reviewers. Thank you ETNRL4L and Vyrazhi for reviewing every single chapter without delay. Thank you Cairn Destop for catching the mistakes I miss and reminding me creative license doesn't make all the rules obsolete.
Thank you to all my other reviewers of course. Reviews aren't the reason I write, but they're definitely the main reason I post^^.
Date: Year 9, September. Thirty days after Mags' victory.
"Esperanza! It's time to pay the price of the defeated," Angelites called, her voice thick with irony, before turning the Capitol-issued television on.
Mags fidgeted on the sofa, her eyes riveted on the Capitol Crest filling the large screen. She tried not to think of all the useful things she could have been doing instead. Not watching the evening news was a crime punishable by five lashes on the first offense, and it was better to know what propaganda the enemy made.
The crest slowly faded as the clock on the wall chimed nine PM. The news were never live, and sun still shone on the crowded terrace of the Capitol's main government building.
The cameras focused on Achlys before Mags could get a better look at the assembled crowd.
Mags stiffened, no public appearance of the President heralded good news. The proud white-haired woman was clad in sumptuous black and red jacket and trousers that closely resembled the uniforms of the Capitol police and high-ranking district peacekeepers.
"That's her warlord uniform, what is she going to talk about?" Esperanza said, grasping Mags' arm. Her dark locks had been cut short, and she looked every bit the little lady now.
It was a rule in the family to speak during the compulsory transmissions. Questions broke the oppressive atmosphere and demystified the lies the Capitol fed them.
"I don't know," Mags muttered.
The screen split in two. Mags' breath hitched when Styx and Delphin appeared on screen. Her heart began hammering painfully in her chest. She lifted her knees to her chin and wrapped her arms protectively around her legs. She had not been expecting images from her Games.
She didn't want to watch this.
She closed her eyes briefly when she felt her mother's supportive hand on her neck.
"It's over, Mags, you kept all your promises," Angelites said, as certain as only a mother could sound, "the Games are to these criminals just one more weapon to control our minds as much as our lives."
Mags felt a spike of fear shoot through her, suddenly afraid Achlys could hear their rebellious words. They had checked every inch of the house for surveillance devices, but those cold intelligent eyes staring at her through the television screen made her feel dangerously observed.
"One month ago, two tributes carried a message for the terrorists planning an attack in the undergrounds of District Three," Achlys began, her vibrant orator's voice imprisoning every viewer into an iron hold. "Our ambition is a Panem that is united and at peace, only then will we rise and prosper as a nation. Ten years ago, we had been merciful and gave a general amnesty to those who were not leaders during the Dark Days. We extended the same offer to the extremists of Three, but they proved once more that that rebels care more about their false ideals than about their well-being or that of their children."
The images and videos shown on half the screen made Mags grind her teeth in rage. "Lie," she spat, "Delphin only ever talked to Scavengers. The other pictures are from Lila's cameras and ours, mixed together to fabricate false evidence. He and Styx never went lower than the third underground. Sylvan's and Chickaree's people never received that offer."
The President smiled thinly. "Fortunately, a few among the Scavengers were wise enough to break away from the monster that dared claim to be their father." She paused as the left-part of the screen revealed once more the filth of the Scavengers' den and their abominable cannibalism.
"Every citizen in Panem saw the monstrosity that Atli had bred, how he had poisoned the minds of the people he dared call his children, taking advantage of their vulnerability and precariousness," Achlys said, her golden eyes blazing and her voice thick with condemnation, "you all saw how he exploited them in the worst ways and committed unspeakable crime in the name of freedom and righteousness."
"The Capitol switches from heinous criminals to poor brainwashed victims with frightening ease," Angelites said, irony heavy in her tone as she grasped her daughter's shaking hand.
The victor had paled at the sight of the dynamite blowing through the hijacked district people dressed like Scavengers. The urge to scream resurfaced as the memories of that inhuman staging awakened her rage. Once more she failed to comprehend how Achlys could be so evil that genuinely believe this was for the good of Panem.
The cameras pulled away from the President, turning to a weathered but healthy looking man with a young child latched to his leg. Through the cameras of Delphin's eyes, the same man, dirty and paler, was shown in the ruins of Three.
He spoke up, his blue eyes staring at the sky. "Every one of us, rebel or Scavenger was given a chance. Atli was a monster. He kept us in filth and ignorance. He burned all the books saying they were tainted by the Capitol and he forced our children to grow up illiterate. He was terrified we would see through his lies, so he told us horrible tales about the outside world and convinced the weakest of us to eat anyone who would cross our path. Anyone who questioned him suffered the same fate."
"Is it truly them?" Angelites asked, skeptical as always when it came to Capitol 'truths'.
"Yes, I remember seeing him. They are the same Scavengers Styx and Delphin had talked to," Mags said, her voice hollow. "I wouldn't be surprised if the Capitol simply bribed them. Life under Atli for someone sane…" Mags said, her voice thick with disgust, "it was horrid, Mama."
She took a shaky breath, willing the memories away.
The cameras were back on Achlys.
"When our brave peacekeepers came to arrest the terrorists, armed with tranquilizers and harmless soporifics, they were met with guns and grenades," the President said, in condemning tones. "Few surrendered, but despite their barbaric behavior, we treated the prisoners with the utmost regard. They were struck by our civility and the great majority recognized their faults."
Mags and her mother exchanged a long suffering glance.
"They had lived so long underground and had no other source of information save their lying officers who made them live in hate of the world above. They recognized their errors when they were shown the truth. Hundreds have now a new home in the districts, as you may already have seen."
Mags frowned. She would have to inquire in Lycorias at the end of her Victory Tour to see who had recently moved.
"Were there even a hundred survivors, Mags?" Angelites said.
"There were ten- to fifteen-score people in the Bunker that night, Mama. Wickers sacrificed himself and a hundred of his people so the others could flee, but the Capitol could have rounded them up. I do not know how many the tranquilizers killed. I know some rebels shot themselves rather than be captured. The Capitol could be boosting the numbers, but it could be true," she said in a small voice.
"Thousands more would now be back among you had the dynamite so thoughtlessly blown up not caused the Citadel to collapse on itself." Achlys' traits hardened and her tone grew thick with contempt. "Wickers destroyed his people and their shelter with greater efficiency than I ever could have done. A thousand avoxes but also fifteen hundred rebels who died when the tons of dynamite shattered the weak restraints their poor engineers had built and devastated the Citadel. We respect life and believe in the lawfulness of men, he preferred to kill those he was responsible for rather than admit his mistakes."
"I'll kill her," Mags hissed through clenched teeth.
She realized she had stood up in fury when she felt Esperanza's hand tug on her shirt.
"How did the thousand die? You didn't tell us that," her sister said, her voice steady despite the pallor of her features.
"Because of a man who served the Capitol and not with dynamite," the victor ground out. Cresyl remained too dangerous to mention, but she could not stand for such lies. "The Citadel and Bunker are intact; she wants to make sure people stay away."
"Randall will tell you more," Achlys was saying. She gestured to a robust man with a shaved head.
"I know him," Mags muttered, straining her memory to recall why he sounded familiar.
"I was one of the first to reach the Citadel and lived seven years in the part known as the Bunker, directly under Wickers' command. Few of us ever went to the surface anymore. We didn't know. We believed Wickers' words because he'd been a great warrior during the Dark Days, but the years had rendered him mad with hate," Randall said, deep sadness in his brown eyes. "We let ourselves sink in immorality, kept strong by the thought we were superior and had to answer to no one. We were poor, disorganized, inefficient, but we refused to see it. The Capitol was generous to grant us a second chance." He straightened and took a heavy breath. "Some of my people and I have decided to remain here for the time being and help rebuild. This destruction was a great crime. Captain Wickers took the decision alone, but we are guilty of having granted him such a power. I am ashamed of ever having been a rebel."
Mags felt her mother tense sharply at his last sentence. Delivered in such a defeated tone, it had the simple efficiency of a knife thrust.
The extent of the destruction in the Capitol was then broadcasted for all to see. The fires had been put out, but the gaping hole and collapsed buildings in the middle of the cranes and scaffolding was still quite visible.
"Randall was from the bunker," Mags said, remembering now, "Sylvan gave him an order in front of us, told him to listen to Chickaree…" she let her voice trail off, not knowing what to say.
Turncoat was on the tip of her tongue, but the rebellion of Three's underground was only a shattered dream and maybe Randall was as much of a turncoat as she was, biding his time and learning as much as he could of the Capitol. She nevertheless wondered how many of the watchers clung to that hope and how many instead believed that rebellion was a fool's dream. Belief meant little if they could not shake off the Capitol's hold.
"I don't want to watch that," Esperanza murmured, turning her head to the side and burying it in the sofa.
Mags lifted her eyes back on the screen. She frowned at the picture of a middle-aged woman with red hair.
Penny Altar, 46, District One.
More faces slowly appeared, the same neutral expressions, the same dyed dull red hair, one after the other, all of district One.
Horror froze Mags body when she realized these were the dead avoxes, shown by district and alphabetical order, all one thousand of them.
"So now they're human," Mags growled, feeling tears mount in her eyes at the Capitol's shameless use of the deaths. "They're called by numbers in the Capitol. It's stitched to their shoulders and chest, but now, they're treated as human," she repeated, shaking with rage.
"They have pictures of every living avox?" Angelites said, her voice as cold as her expression. "Does this come from their databases or was this a monstrous last minute decision when Achlys thought of the damage she could wreak?"
"Did you know any of them, Mama?" Esperanza whispered. "There's so many of them."
Mags hated the Capitol for forcing anyone eleven and older to watch the Games and the news. Their overlords wanted them to grow up shattered and subdued, and many children, who lacked Esperanza's strength or saw their own parents lose hope, already were.
"Wickers had to detonate or the Capitol would have taken control of enough explosives to raze a district to the ground." Their mother replied forcefully, putting an arm around her youngest. "He would just have destroyed buildings had Achlys not chosen to endanger these people. She is responsible for their deaths, not the rebels."
"But did you?" Esperanza insisted in a small voice.
"Yes," Angelites admitted, "but no one I knew well."
People would recognize friends and family. How many would blame the rebels instead of the Capitol? How many would just grieve, not caring about the culprit but broken by one more source of sorrow?
"While we're on the topics of buildings, how are we doing?" Mags cut in, not wanting to dwell longer than necessary on the dead. She had started pacing in the room, unable to keep her eyes on the screen. It would be long minutes before it would reach District Four, and Mags already couldn't stand it anymore. "They've started digging, but when will everyone be operational?"
Her mother stood up and went to take her ledger.
"We've reached two hundred new jobs we can comfortably afford in addition to the materials. Fifty of these will only start working when the foundations will be laid, for piping, electricity and all that," she said, "but forty are being taught by the other ten who had some experience at finishing their own houses. Quartz Goby actually burnt his down while setting up electricity a few years back, but he swears he's learnt now," Angelites said with a rueful smile. "We can't pay them too much, or it'll cause inflation, but they'll all earn decent amounts." She spread her arms out and planted a kiss on Mags' forehead. "Well done, you just cut down unemployment by half," she said brightly. "I made sure we employed intelligently to avoid having families with four working adults and some with none."
"That's clever," Esperanza said, eyeing the two appraisingly.
The raven-haired woman flashed Mags a wry grin "I'm actually working harder now than I did before you won."
Mags patted her on the back. "It's for the good of Panem, Mama."
"Oh it's wonderful. I was afraid of being bored."
Mags laughed. Bored. What an odd word. Who had the time for that?
"I'm now seeing how we can keep everyone employed once the houses are finished," Angelites continued. "We'll have to anticipate on more wood shipments to build the new fishing vessels. Motors are especially expensive and the amount of fuel we receive is ridiculous. So that's on the agenda too. Constructions will inevitably slow down during the winter but I think we'll have finished clearing the desalinization factory and be ready to build the academy just after your victory tour."
"It's perfect," Mags said, almost forgetting the faces on display.
*skip*
Date: Year 9, October. Fifty-three days after Mags' victory.
"This has to be the most depressing market I have ever seen," the blonde complained, "there is nothing except food that stinks and rags woven together." Marquise paused to shoot the gray sky a dirty look. The drizzle was soaking them through. "Even the stray cats look evil. I tried to adopt one, ungrateful beast," she muttered, rubbing her arm with such a glum expression that Mags stifled a laugh.
Cats were commonplace in town, feeding off scraps, but calling them tame was a long shot.
"That ten year old who sells pretty shells is the only redeeming quality of this place." Marquise huffed in dismay. "I forgot the pots," she said, gesturing at a small stand, "at least they're colored even if it looks like a child's work."
"Kyle's aunt Narissa sells them," Mags said, not wanting to indulge Marquise's nostalgia of One's beautiful markets too much. Four wasn't luxurious, and Creneis was but a small town.
"The one who lives with her friend, right?" Marquise said with a smile full of double-meanings.
Mags shot her a quizzical glance. What juicy gossip did Marquise want to share now?
Marquise snickered. "The kind of friend you live with for ten years with."
"People can't all afford two houses," Mags said with a frown, "if she likes having her best friend around…"
"Can't afford two beds either? Neither pretty young woman ever dated in the last ten years?"
Mags' face darkened. She could understand why Narissa may never have found a man to truly trust. Fifteen was a fragile age and her ordeal would have been hard on any grown woman. Her eyes suddenly narrowed in warning, she remembered the conversation she'd had with Fife and Constantine in the bunker.
"Don't you dare spread rumors like that around Marquise, or I'll never treat you as more than a guard. You know what happens to people who practice same-sex relations."
Marquise stepped back, taken aback by Mags' fury. "Only when it's men, no? Some women are just very affectionate…"
"Just don't speak of it," Mags said coldly. She couldn't stand the thought Kyle's family coming to harm, especially because of something so stupid.
"Fine, whatever," Marquise said with an eye roll, looking miffed.
"Mags!" A familiar voice called.
The victor felt her lips twitch in surprise as she spun round. Kyle was hurrying towards her, his face drawn from lack of sleep but his smile as brilliant as ever.
The young man cracked a self-satisfied smile. "Lots of interesting things found scrubbing ships' hulls," he said handing her a bucket.
A three yard long garland of highly iridescent nacre shells linked together by thin wire. A smile bloomed on Mags' lips at the thought that she'd occupied his thoughts while he had worked. She really wasn't used to receiving presents, not that she needed anything anymore. He had a gift for making her feel special.
"Aww," Marquise cooed, "abalone shells, how sweet."
Kyle's eyes narrowed in annoyance. He bit back a retort and turned around and stepped up to Adrian Crow's large stand where he lifted up a large swordfish, mindless of the vendor's warning.
"Sword fish, for strong lady, so you can stick it to the guys. It goes with your name, Peacekeeper Rapier," Kyle said with a smirk. "It's tasty too."
Marquise eyed the fish suspiciously. "It's lacking a fin and looks maimed."
"That's why it's sold here and not taken to the Capitol. It's still just as good."
"I'm going to look like an idiot carrying this around," Marquise grumbled. But she seemed unwilling to put it back.
"Do you have money with you?" Kyle asked, a calculating eyebrow raised.
Mags was staring at their byplay bemused.
Marquise snorted. "Why would I? There's nothing to buy."
"Then convince them you caught it. They swim near the surface anyway and your uniform is soaked."
Marquise chuckled at that. She threw the heavy fish over her shoulder, proving she hadn't shirked peacekeeper fitness classes. "Fine, I'll leave you two together," she said with a wink.
Mags smiled as she went to pay for the swordfish, glad Kyle was at least trying to connect with Marquise. The blonde stood out enough from the traditional peacekeeper that it was doubtless easier. Indra or Alaric would have sliced Kyle in two with the fish's blade had he been that insolent with them.
Kyle soon reached her side, a flush had crept up his face. "Sorry about making you pay for that, I wasn't thinking well. I'm exhausted." His easy grin was back in a flash, lighting his whole face. "I'm a free man now, though."
He looked much too adorable for Mags to be anything but endeared. She wrapped the long garland of beautiful shells proudly around her neck.
"You look like you haven't slept in a week." Mags said, putting a hand on his shoulder as she took in how tanned he'd become. "You've truly done five hundred hours of work in forty days?"
Kyle shrugged. "I'm young and healthy, I managed. I wanted more time with you and just be free of it."
Mags nodded, impressed by his drive. She was thrilled to see he hadn't grown more distant after her birthday, when it had become clear that she didn't believe he owed her anything anymore. She couldn't help thinking this wasn't just about proving himself and erasing his previous mistakes. With him having worked sixteen hours instead of twelve six days a week since her birthday, she'd had little occasion to see him, but whenever he had, he'd been cheerful and eager to listen. He was probably the most relaxing person to be around, and the way he looked at her made her feel better about herself than she ever had.
"He also really needs a paid job," Narissa said, appearing right behind Mags, "Want a portrait? It's not Capitol quality but it'll smell like home. I can draw both of you together. The rain only makes it more unique," the black-haired woman added with a dazzling smile.
Mags laughed, unmindful of the drizzle. "Fine," she said, figuring she'd love having a picture of the both of them later.
As she sat down on the bench before Narissa, she had an idea. "I could have a job for you, Kyle. I'll need ledgers kept with everything I'm spending. Mama is still figuring out how many people are needed for the constructions, how many I can afford, and how many people need a job in Four, which are three different numbers," she commented wryly, "and also what kind of training they'll need and how long everything will take and…" Mags sighed. "I'll spare you, but the bottom line is, I need someone I can trust who knows numbers. Three people who do actually, excluding Mama, and I have only one for the moment. Mama can spare the time to teach you. I'll pay you for the learning too, since it's a fair investment. You'll save me lots of time if you do it properly."
Kyle nodded eagerly. His eyebrows were cocked in an adorable fashion as he struggled to take in everything she'd said.
"How much will you pay him?" Narissa asked, pulling Kyle's shoulders backwards to make him sit straight. She moved the umbrella to protect the two teenagers from the rain.
"Auntie, she won't use me, don't push it," Kyle huffed, shooting Mags an apologetic look.
Mags turned to Narissa with a small smile. "How much do you need?"
Kyle blushed furiously when his aunt gave a number that matched the income of three confirmed sailors. "That's ridiculous," he muttered, earning himself a dark glare from his aunt.
Mags' eyebrows flew up to her hairline. Haggling was a common practice, but she felt ill at ease at the prospect of discussing Kyle like a bag of mussels.
"He'll work day and night and sing your praises," Narissa said with her brightest seller's smile. "I have young children to feed. You've seen how scrawny they are."
Mags winced. Usually both hagglers were poor and both knew how much the other could afford. Mags could afford everything. She'd finally figured her allowance matched the earnings of a Capitol surgeon, which was enough to live in luxury in the Capitol. In Creneis, she earned almost as much as the whole five thousand people put together.
"How much more will you save if his good work makes the constructions end even just one week earlier than expected?" Narissa pursued, ignoring Kyle's pleading look.
Good point. Mags suddenly felt petty. Narissa wasn't speaking out of greed but out of necessity.
"Deal. I'll dock it if Mama says you're not keeping up," she said with a forced smile, not wanting Kyle to feel the pay was undeserved.
Narissa's soft singing as she began the portrait only increased Mags' wry amusement and Kyle's embarrassment. His young aunt looked like a content cat.
Mags barely knew the woman. Narissa was always rather distant and didn't seem to know how to start any kind of personal conversation, so Mags hadn't insisted. Time would doubtless help.
The portrait was a simple pencil likeness but it was strikingly real. Narissa had even managed to capture Kyle's light blush and the shine of the abalone shells.
"Wow. I'll send Esperanza and Mama to you," Mags said, her face lighting up in delight. "Keep the change," she said, taking a small pile of coins out of her bag.
"Thank you, Mags," Narissa said with a satisfied half-smile.
"Sorry about my aunt," Kyle whispered when they stood up again, his cheeks blazing. "She's -"
"It's not greed when you really need it," Mags interrupted, not wanting to discuss money further.
They didn't live in a town where effort was justly rewarded. The majority was poor but only because the Capitol took the lion's share.
"I'm going to have to find yet another way not to feel in your debt then," Kyle said with a brave smile. "You force a guy to have bold ambitions."
"I keep only the best," Mags replied with a smirk.
She immediately chastised herself, aware that type of banter was why she had remained single despite the respectable number of boys that had been interested enough to flirt with her over the years. By having too high standards and acting too strong, she scared them away, and Kyle blushed so much around her it was obvious he wasn't entirely comfortable. Boys wanted to feel needed, Dylana had told her once. Mags guessed girls were no different. Her heart fluttered whenever she saw gratefulness or admiration on Kyle's handsome face.
"You haven't thrown me away yet," Kyle pointed out, crossing his arms over his toned chest with a satisfied smile. "Shall I walk you home?"
Did he even need to ask?
Date: Year 9, November. Eighty-four days after Mags' victory.
"There," Kyle muttered triumphantly. "The taxes were counted twice on the shipment sales. That's why the prices were inconsistent."
The young man was still working with her mother and Mags was glad she had come in quietly. Kyle's brow was furrowed in concentration as sat hunched over columns of numbers and scribbled notes on a piece of paper. Mags smiled. He looked much more self assured than he had mere weeks before.
"Good," Angelites said, "checking ledgers is harder than keeping them. You'll soon be independent enough not to require my supervision."
"You're purposefully putting mistakes in, Mama?"
The two turned to Mags. Warmth infused her cheeks as she saw Kyle's lips bloom into a broad smile. She was always both surprised and thrilled by how happy he looked to see her.
"He needs to learn to spot them. Five minutes, Mags, and he'll be all yours."
Mags flashed her a grin before disappearing in the kitchen. Esperanza was sitting on the counter with an expectant expression.
"When are you going to kiss him?" The raven-haired girl whispered, punching her older sister on the arm. "He'll go mad from waiting, and you too."
Mags frowned, shooting her sister a mild glare. "Why doesn't he kiss me, then?" She muttered crossly, sounding more grumpy than she'd have liked.
She didn't want to admit she'd lost hours of sleep contemplating it. She knew she could just as well kiss him herself, but she had been so explicit already. They were almost holding hands whenever they walked, he couldn't be oblivious. Since she was the one who paid him, Mags wanted him to make the first move. She didn't want him to feel conflicted and forced to accept if he didn't feel as strongly towards her.
"Because nothing ever stops you when you want something," Esperanza said knowingly, "so if you're not kissing him it means you don't want to."
Mags eyes narrowed in acute attention. "He told you that?" Esperanza was clever and observant, but not that clever and observant. Retrospectively, Mags wasn't surprised her sister had tried to get information out of the boy. He spent almost half his days here now.
"Not like that," Esperanza admitted, "but he said 'nothing can stop her when she wants something' and he said like ten times that he valued your trust and friendship a lot. Really ten times," she said with a smug little smile.
Mags had to raise a fist to her mouth to stifle her mounting gales of laughter. Kyle was afraid to be presumptuous? Afraid she would think that he was being so helpful just to get in her pants? They both had been thinking way too much.
She heard Kyle putting on his coat and winked at her sister before exiting the kitchen.
Kyle's goodbyes to her were always a little awkward. Ritual words followed by a silence during which neither spoke, as if the other's face had entrancing qualities that made breaking their gaze too difficult without effort. This time, Mags brought her hand to his cheek, drinking in the sight of him and closed the distance between them.
Never had she felt so self-conscious about a simple kiss. The position of her nose, the wetness of her lips... Mags slowed slightly, almost panicked by what she was doing. Her hammering heart pumped dangerous amounts of oxygen in her whirring brain, and she was suddenly afraid to fall.
Everything faded when her lips met his. Her worries melted away and she let her hand drop from his face, inwardly laughing at her earlier nervousness. It hadn't been so hard.
"We'll talk tomorrow, and you should have told my sister earlier you wanted me to be the one to kiss you," Mags said, her flushed cheeks aching from the force of her smile.
"Walk me home?" Kyle said, an almost pleading light in his gorgeous eyes as he held both her arms.
"No. Deal with it," Mags said, much too giddy to have a coherent conversation. She didn't want to make an utter fool of herself and the more cautious part of her knew she would reveal too much about things she had to keep hidden if Kyle asked. "Tomorrow morning, nine o'clock, I'll come and get you."
"Sure," Kyle said, merry shock written all over his face. He stole a parting kiss and winked before pulling on his hood and running out in the cold rain.
Mags licked her lips, her eyes never leaving him until he had disappeared.
"So what does he taste like?"
"Esperanza," Mags chided, unable to keep herself from smiling. She only then realized she was standing in a puddle of water and hurriedly shut the door.
"You should have been louder," Esperanza shot back, "Mama didn't see!"
"Didn't see what?" Angelites called from the living room.
"They kissed!" Esperanza squealed. "And then Mags kicked him out," she added, erupting into hysterical laughter which drowned their mother's answer.
Mags all but skipped up to her mother, who was putting the practice ledger away. The sparkling energy that sizzled through every fiber of her being and kept a helpless smile on her face suddenly quieted. Kyle made her feel more alive, more immersed in the present, enjoying moments instead of planning for a faraway future. Now that they had kissed, she realized she hadn't never noticed just how intense the colors all around her were.
In comparison, the raven-haired woman before her, despite her warm smile, had rarely looked so alone.
Mags now ached to see her mother happy, to know there was someone she could confide him and who would protect her above all else, someone to whom she meant the world. Mags' face fell at the memory of her father, of how perfect her parents had been together. Her mother had decades to live and Mags wanted to hear her carefree laughter and see her lean trustingly into strong arms again.
"Mama, have you ever thought of getting married again? Or just dating?"
Angelites lifted her eyes of the storage cabinet and turned to stare at the victor. The abrupt question, accompanied by her daughter's loving yet mournful expression, made her gesture towards the sofa in front of the bay window.
Esperanza, now quiet as a mouse, came to sit next to them, snuggling against her sister.
"I don't think it would be a bad thing," Mags said shyly, loosely wrapping an arm around the older woman as the other seemed to collect her thoughts.
The memories Mags had of her parents together were few but vivid. Stories told by candlelight, her mother leaning into her father. A rough cheek tickling her stomach while her mother forced her clothes off her to get her to take a bath. The first days of the rebellion, hidden in dark cramped spaces, squeezed between her parents' bodies as they fled the city to meet with the rest of the rebels. Her father's beaming face after hours of frantic pacing as his glowing wife presented him their perfect daughter, born prematurely in the home of strangers kind enough to help them without asking questions, and declaring she would be called Hope. Her parents' last embrace, eyes whispering wordless promises and blazing in unspent passion; their hands locked so tightly that Mags cried, feeling something break, when the reluctantly let go of the other.
"You remember the tapestries we sold," Angelites began, "cotton, silk, silver and gold spun into legends. Symbols and homages, stories… They told of a world so large and diverse, Jasper and I could not imagine our lives without them. District One was so much more political, Mags," she said, "people rarely spoke their minds, hiding behind honeyed words and appearance. Everything here is much simpler, but people care little for beauty and dreams." The woman smiled, her eyes far away. "We would climb on the roof of the house and imagine a better world while gazing at the stars. I never tired of the way your father spoke, using elegant words for the simple pleasure of hearing the sound of them."
Her face darkened, the thin lines of grief marking her face suddenly more acute. Rivulets of water ran down the large window, blurring the sight of the town below.
"Animals spend energy to find food just as we do, but only humans dream, I think," the widow whispered, "Jasper gave a depth to existence that I haven't found in another man. He had a sophistication I had never encountered in Creneis, yet without the arrogance and airs so many in his district affected." A soft chuckle escaped Angelites' lips. "I would not have traveled so far to find your father had a man in Creneis appealed to me. And in truth, Mags, I don't see myself loving another. He would have to surprise me very much."
"You still love Dad. I mean, of course you do," Mags said, "but you..." her voice broke slightly, "you're still married, you... don't feel single."
A small sorrowful smile graced her mother's lips and Mags wondered how she could not have seen it before.
After all these years.
"I made so many plans with Jasper. We had so many dreams and believed in them so hard..." Angelites' wistful smile broadened. She embraced her daughters. "Two of them are still running around," she said, her eyes glistening as lifted her hand to Mags' golden-brown hair. "You look more like him than you know, Preciosa."
Author's Note:
a very 'domestic' chapter, but daily life defines character as much as the big crises. Those won't be very numerous.
This marks the end of the first arc. Mags struggled to put her plans in motion. Now she has garnered enough support to begin the rebuilding, which will be a long process. We're not even close to the completion of the Academy (if you have a brilliant name idea for it, don't hesitate to submit it.) but I won't cover it too extensively, or this book will have to be a trilogy of its own.
If you wish to see more of Mags with the townspeople, the peacekeepers or Kyle, say it in a review (not 'more Kyle!' but what kind of scene you actually want.) and I will do my best to write outtakes.
For your information, Mags was reaped on August 6th, the train crashed on August 13th and she won in the very early morning on August 20th. The Victory Tour begins on the first week of February. Mags was born on September 14th and Esperanza on July 1st.
Please review.