Chapter Nineteen: Beginning of the End

Tomorrow is still far away
All we've got is now
-Too Young to Grow Old, Lxandra.

Constantine McKnight (18).
District Eleven Male.

Constantine woke up to Lotte thrashing around in her sleep, calling out for her parents, for Saskia, for... herself? Not dwelling on it, Constantine quickly shook her awake, pulling her close as she jolted awake and started to sob. Yesterday hadn't been the best day, for either of them — and definitely not for their ex ally — and he'd been expecting something like this. Still, he was hyper aware of how loud she was, and the fact that they weren't exactly in the best position to defend themselves if another tribute heard them and decided to pounce.

Eventually she calmed down, pulling away from him as she furiously rubbed at her eyes and tried to compose herself.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked.

"No. Everybody has nightmares. Ain't nothing special."

He wasn't surprised at the blunt response, so he didn't press anything. Instead the two of them had a quiet breakfast, and then, once he'd cleaned Lotte's shoulder and rebandaged it, the two of them started to move. They'd both agreed yesterday afternoon that now the tribute pool was small, with just under half of them left being Careers, they shouldn't hang around anywhere for too long. They didn't want to give anyone an advantage on being able to sneak up on them whilst they were unprepared.

Granted, they would be unprepared no matter what, but it wasn't as if the two of them could just take a crash course on how to kill a Career. Constantine didn't know who their other three opponents were, but all he could hope was that they weren't allies. He and Lotte were no trained killers, but they would definitely fare better against one other tribute than three. They had been lucky with their kills, both of them knew that. Constantine wasn't sure how they were going to fare from now on. Not when the tributes were two outer district kids just looking for a place to sleep and getting caught by surprise, but instead trained killers and kids who didn't really have anything to lose.

They had the mutt, sure, but he wasn't sure that it was their magic ticket out of the arena — not that it really could be their ticket, because it would either be his or Lotte's if it worked — after all, they'd seen what happened the last time it was let loose.

"Connie?" Lotte tugged on his sleeve, pulling him out of his thoughts. "What are we going to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"If it's just the two of us…" she stopped walking, looking up at him. "How do we decide?"

Constantine swallowed thickly. "I don't know," he admitted. "We'll have to cross that bridge once we come to it."

Because he truly didn't know. He wanted Lotte to go home, of course he did, but he also wanted to go home himself. To see his mom happy, finally, because the two of them would be safe. And they'd have a house that was better than the shack they currently lived in, and enough food to keep them full day in day out. He wanted all of that. But… if he went home, it would mean his ally would be dead.

And, as selfish as it was, there was part of him that hoped they didn't end up in the final two together. That something happened before then. It would be easier that way, for the both of them. He hadn't expected her to grow on his as much, or as quickly, as she did, and how was he supposed to look at that little girl, the same one he'd held this morning as she cried, in the eyes and tell her that his life was worth more than hers, especially if it was just the two of them left?

"It probably won't come to it," Lotte said abruptly. "Alexander's still alive, and he'll probably be gunning for me. But if I don't go home, you've gotta."

"Well, if Alexander is gunning for you then I can't imagine he'll be too pleased to see me either." Constantine chuckled.

"Hm. I guess. But I'll knock him up a little." Lotte shrugged. "You just gotta finish it. 'Cause we both know he's putting me in the ground after what I did in the bloodbath."

"Hey. Enough. How about we talk about something that isn't death?"

"Why? It won't go away if we stop talking about it."

"You wouldn't talk about your dream this morning. Didn't mean you didn't have it."

"Yeah. She crossed her arms over her chest. "Because it wasn't real. My papa and sister aren't dead. Ain't nobody killing them. Definitely not Alexander." Constantine frowned. "There. I talked about it. Now all of Panem knows. Is that good enough for you?"

"I— Lotte—"

"Save it." She waved a hand. "It's whatever, Connie. It's fine. Just… I don't think it's a good idea to keep ignoring the real stuff, that's all. One, or maybe even both of us, are going to die. It's simple. That's how the Hunger Games work." She kicked a rock out of the beaten path. And… it's probably going to happen sooner or later."

"I know." Constantine nodded.

"And, for the record, you've been a decent ally." She smiled. "I can't say I've enjoyed it, but you're all right."

He laughed. "Right back at you."

How was he supposed to place his life over hers if it came to it? He wasn't sure if he'd be able to.

Sylas Troye (12).
District One Male.

Jumping from dead tree to dead tree, half rotted log to half rotted log hadn't been easy last night, but he'd somehow managed it, outrunning the mutt that had picked off his allies. It was some modern miracle that he was still even alive, collapsing at the base of a tree at some point last night. He couldn't even remember falling asleep, but when Sylas woke up the sun was in the sky and he was aching all over. But, after finishing off the last of his food, he soldiered on.

Because his allies might have been dead, but he wasn't and if he intended to do right by them, then curling up into a ball and sobbing wasn't going to help him in that regard.

But the trees all looked the same, and eventually he ended up back at the very same bog. It was easier to see in the daytime, and now that his life wasn't in any immediate danger he could safely walk the perimeter instead of having to play the bog is lava like last night.

It was almost unbelievable that he was still alive. After Hades and Ruby he hadn't held out much hope that their alliance would get too far, and last night he was sure that his cannon would boom. Out of the three of them, he hadn't expected Vinnia to be the first to go. The Hunger Games were unpredictable though, he guessed, and no one in their trio had expected what had happened last night. Not one of them. Yet, here he was alone.

Collecting some berries that he deemed to be safe, Sylas continued on past the bog and towards their old campsite. There was no sign of the monster, thankfully, but he was still just as uneasy as he'd been last night. Tulip's cries rang in his ears, and he tried to keep his gaze down at the mud rather than the bog itself. He didn't want to even imagine what it had been like for her, nor for Vinnia, but it was hard not to think about them. He was supposed to protect them, that's what allies were supposed to do, but he'd practically just left them yesterday. He could've joined Vinnia, but he'd stay put with Tulip, and if he'd just reached forward a little more he could've caught Tulip and hauled her into the tree with him. He could've saved her.

Sylas had always been good at staying cool under pressure, and at making split second decisions. But what use was that when it didn't help anyone else? Maybe if he'd been able to think up some other way last night, Tulip wouldn't have missed the jump. Maybe he wouldn't be alone against eight other tributes. He wasn't sure how much use Tulip would've been but… it would be nice to not be lonely.

A deep voice somewhere off to the right was the first thing that alerted him that someone else was nearby. He froze like a deer in the headlights, sucking in a deep breath as he listened out for more noise. But after a few minutes, when he didn't hear anything else, Sylas assumed that he must have been imagining it.

He stepped forward, jumping like hell when something thwacked into the wood of the tree beside him. Turning around, a throwing knife was embedded in the bark. Whoever had thrown it either had terrible timing or terrible aim, maybe even both. It didn't really matter. They'd missed, and Sylas's heart was almost beating out of his chest as he started to run.

But whoever had thrown the knife was following him, and he could hear several sets of footsteps which didn't spell out anything good for him. But, then again, he'd outrun a troll last night. He could outrun some tributes, surely.

Dodging under low hanging branches and pushing his way through thorny bushes, Sylas ran and ran. But no matter how many twists and turns he took, his pursuers didn't seem to relent.

So, he went up.

Practically throwing himself at the trunk of one of the trees, he hauled himself up into the branches. There were shouts from underneath him and, recognising Briar's voice, it was not a comforting realisation to know that it was the Careers after him. Still, he'd managed to avoid them, and if he was quick he would be able to get away whilst they were all bickering about who was going to climb up after him.

Or, at least, he would have been if the branch of the tree he leaped to didn't splinter and send him crashing to the ground.

Qarza Bolton (15).
District Four Male.

Qarza leaned against the trunk of the tree, trying to catch his breath as Briar stalked over to the boy they'd been chasing, grabbing his arm and pulling him to his feet. Somehow, even after falling, he didn't seem to be injured, and Briar held the boy at arms' length, her sword in her hand.

But the dagger didn't find its mark. Instead, she shoved the boy in Darya's direction. "I can't," she told her simply. "This one's yours."

Darya looked at Briar incredulously, pulling the boy closer to her. Alexander on the other side of her was looking just as uncomfortable as Qarza felt, the tension in the group sky high. It had already been an eventful morning, Darya and Briar at each other's throats almost the moment that they'd woken up, arguments about who could or would stay back at the cornucopia whilst the others went hunting. As a result, the four of them were out.

Qarza looked away as Darya gave the One boy's neck a sharp twist, the boy dropping to the ground as his cannon boomed.

There was a moment of silence, and then Darya seemingly exploded.

"Really, Briar? The final days are when you decided to go soft?!" She bellowed. "He could've gotten away, he could've struck back at you, he could've—"

"I don't know if you noticed, Darya, but the kid had just fucking fallen out of a tree. He wasn't going anywhere or doing anything," Briar said cooly. She didn't flinch, even when Darya was up in her face. "He was just a kid, and from home. It's taboo. For someone who talks so much about tradition and honour, you don't seem to care unless it's your reputation on the line."

"You didn't seem to care about killing kids in the bloodbath." Darya turned away from her, fury evident on her face. Qarza shifted uncomfortably; he had a feeling that this wasn't going to end well, and he didn't want Darya to pay for it. Even if she'd started it. "There's another twelve year old still in play, you know that, right? What are you going to do if the Eight girl gives you puppy dog eyes? Let her win?"

Alexander cleared his throat. "For what it's worth, Lotte doesn't do puppy dog eyes. She'll just come at you with a—"

Darya's glare was enough to silence him.

"Does it even matter?" Qarza asked tentatively, eyeing the boy's corpse. "He's dead. It doesn't matter who killed him."

"You're talking a lot of shit to me for someone who defends him," Briar said, pointing towards Qarza. "You're slating me for not killing someone when your precious little 'Qarzie' is there with no kills?"

"Yeah, because he's fifteen, Briar and you know full well he wouldn't be here if not for the quell."

"Forgive me, but didn't the lot of us witness a twelve year old almost take down Alexander in the bloodbath?" Briar asked. "If she, who's barely the size of my fucking pinky finger, can do that, then surely a kid years older than her from a Career district can score a kill."

"Will you two stop?!" Alexander stepped in, shaking his head. "You really want to do this now? We're in the final eight. Can't you just hold it together for long enough for us to finish what we started?"

"Oh, that's easy for you to say. Why don't you stop getting involved in situations that don't involve you?" Darya sneered. "You only want us to stick together because it saves your ass. You'd be dead if not for us."

"I'm not doing this!" Briar ran a hand through her hair. "I'm not going to stand her and be shouted at for not killing my fucking district partner. Grow up, Darya. Not everything revolves around what you want to happen."

Silence fell over the four of them after Briar's sharp remark. Qarza watched the two of them carefully, the two of them seemingly deadlocked in a staring competition. If looks could kill then neither of them would be standing right now. Qarza noticed it before Briar did, the way that Darya was readying the sword she'd chosen this morning in replacement of her spear.

Her swing was clumsy, and there was a clash of metal as Briar realised what was happening and managed to block. Panicking slightly, Qarza turned to duck behind the tree. He couldn't just up and leave; not without Darya, but he also didn't want to be directly in Briar's gaze if she was the one who ended up prevailing.

But he peeked out when there was a shriek from one of the girls, and Darya was calling out his name. Where Alexander had been standing, the undergrowth was on fire, with the flames starting to lick up the trunk of a tree.

It was only a matter of time until the place was up in flames. It was already spreading, and Alexander and Briar were nowhere to be seen.

He called out to his district partner, the girl staggering over to him. There was a gash across Darya's bicep, the girl clutching her upper arm as she barked at Qarza to run.

So he did, even if he had no idea where he was going. The cornucopia wasn't a safe bet if either Briar or Alexander had fled there, and how could there be a safe place in the middle of a forest that was starting to burn?

This hadn't exactly been how he imagined the beginning of the end to come around, and it definitely wasn't how he wanted it.

Alliance List:

What the Fuck is Going On?: Qarza and Darya

Grumpy child and her underpaid babysitter: Noa (Lotte) and Constantine

Loners: Briar, Venus, Alexander, and Everleigh

Eulogies:

9th place: Sylas Troye, D1M. Killed by Darya, D4F.

This was probably one of the hardest deaths to decide. I loved Sylas, and I think he would've really shined in a story that dedicated more time to the tributes. I love EOS, but the twist made it really hard to focus on the tributes as much as I wanted to. I do feel like Sylas suffered because of that, so I'm sorry Guest! I did really want him in the final eight but, like I've said before, plot prevails, and Sylas was just kinda... there, after the last chapter. But he was truly a great tribute to write, so thank you for sending him in Guest!

And we have our final eight! That's super duper insane to me, and I can't believe that we actually got here. But... well, we're here and the numbers will only be dwindling in the next chapters. It's almost time to crown our victor and I'm super excited about that.

As this story is in the stages of wrapping up, please do go and submit to the sequel, A Tide of Scarlet. I suspect that everyone reading this has already submitted/has plans to, but I thought I'd plug it anyway just in case. It's going to be lots of fun, so I'm excited to start getting into it once EOS is done!

Anyway, there's a new poll on my profile. You know the drill.

Wear a mask, wash your hands and all that. You're probably all bored of this memo now.

See you next chapter!