5:26 am, Bottom Floor of The North Wing.
Lilith didn't know how to pick up the pieces.
To be fair, she was never the kind of person that needed to know. Lilith was used to being on her own, and now she regretted her past loneliness. Or maybe she was starting to miss it. She couldn't tell anymore. All she knew was that Merix's sudden absence was a wound like nothing she'd ever felt before, and she had no way of comforting herself.
Nash wasn't faring much better. At least he'd gotten the chance to say goodbye, but he had been uncharacteristically quiet ever since. His forced optimism was gone entirely, leaving him nothing but an empty husk. Lilith didn't know what Merix had said in his final moments - she feared the answer she'd get - but she knew it had affected Nash deeply.
How were they supposed to cope with a loss like this?
She should've been there. Lilith repeated that to herself like a mantra. Merix had only died because she was gone. She had gotten too complacent despite their circumstances and let them out of her sight, even though it was only for a few minutes. Had it been longer? She wasn't sure anymore.
Lilith hadn't planned on getting attached to anyone in the Games, and certainly not to someone like Merix. But it had happened anyway, and where did that leave her? The emptiness of loss was something that she was vaguely familiar with, but there was nothing to fill in the gaps this time. Lilith didn't particularly feel like crying; she wanted to be angry at the world and ask why someone as good as Merix had to go when she was still there. It didn't make any sense. None of it did. It wasn't fair. None of it was. Lilith was so… so tired.
But, as she more than anyone else knew, life wasn't very fair at all. It never gave things freely; it only knew how to take and take. And Lilith felt like a fool for even considering that the Games could be different.
God, she was so fucking stupid.
She pulled Merix's small notepad out from her pocket, carefully turning it over in her hands. It had been left with the rest of his supplies, and Lilith had grabbed it before Nash could discover it. Granted, she couldn't bring herself to open it up and take a look inside, but she wasn't sure if Nash would be able to handle the contents. Maybe she wasn't sure she could either.
There was a smear of blood on the cover, which she tried to scrape away with her fingernail. It was a painful reminder of the fate that had befallen the boy. The notepad probably belonged with his body, far away from here, but Lilith couldn't bring herself to let something like this go. It was all they had left of Merix outside of what lived on in their memories.
Lilith glanced over at Nash, who was still curled up on his side, presumably sleeping away. Part of her longed to wake him up so they could move farther away from this accursed place, but he'd barely been able to move into another room yesterday. He'd been in and out of sleep since then, but Lilith wasn't sure how much sleep he'd actually been getting. She suspected he just wasn't ready to talk yet, and Lilith was willing to give him time.
Was this… really what friendship was? Love and loss, give and take, push and pull? Now that she thought about it, had Lilith ever been a good enough friend to Merix? Was there more she could've done?
Nash had been there. Nash could've done something.
It would be so easy to let a quiet resentment build up towards Nash. But Lilith had to keep telling herself it wasn't what Merix would want. He'd want them to be happy again, for his sacrifice to mean something.
But that was so hard.
Even now, Lilith felt her eyes burn as if her body wanted to cry, but when she lifted a hand to her face, her eyes were as dry as ever. Maybe she was still a monster after all. Maybe it was stupid of her to think that she could be different. She'd spent far too long in Nine, spent too many years killing without a second thought for the universe to wish any kindness upon her. Maybe it was stupid of her to forget her plot to kill Thay. If she'd never met Nash and Merix…
She shook her head quickly. No. She couldn't say that. Their time together had to have meant something. Under any other circumstances, she would've left Nash behind the instant everything happened. He was too close to dead weight for her old self to be willing to stick around. She'd have long disappeared into the darkness, ready to return to her original revenge mission. Even though Merix was… even though Merix was gone, had Lilith been able to help him as much as he'd been able to help her? It was too late to ask, and maybe it was selfish of Lilith to keep thinking about herself in a time like this, but regrets kept plaguing her mind. They'd never stop.
Somewhere deep within, Lilith could still hear Annie telling her to become a little nightmare all over again. Thay was still in the Arena, waiting for her, and there was nothing holding her back. All Lilith could do was tell the memory of a long-dead voice that Merix wouldn't want her to leave Nash alone.
If she couldn't be there for Merix, then she could at least try for Nash. All she needed was a sign that he was willing to try as well.
"You can't give up," she whispered to his still sleeping figure. "Not now. I can't do this on my own."
Nash didn't give any sign of hearing, but Lilith wasn't sure that he was asleep either. Still, she didn't press him. Lilith didn't know what she could say anyway.
At the end of the day, Lilith didn't know where they stood without Merix. If things were irreparable, then Lilith wasn't sure what her next step would be. But based on how quickly things had changed over the last twelve hours…
The two of them would never be the same.
8:04 am, Second Floor of The West Wing.
The endless halls in front of Thay only heightened his sense that something was wrong.
He wasn't sure why. Maybe it was because he hadn't encountered anything since Eleanor's death a few days ago. Maybe it was because he even more acutely aware of the feeling that he was being watched. Or maybe it was because, for the first time in the Arena, Thay was all alone.
Thay did feel bad that things had gone south with Jack so quickly. After all, he also wished that there was a way he could've gone back and saved Eleanor. He should've been faster. But instead, he hesitated - the most damning thing a person could do.
He still wished Jack all the best. At least, he did unless they ran into each other again. This was the Games after all, and Thay knew the price for keeping his life was a high one.
With only ten tributes left, Thay figured their split was for the best. While a lone tribute would be at more of a disadvantage if the Careers came along, they'd also be more able to go unnoticed or slip away. And besides, Thay was used to doing things by himself. Most of the time, he was the only person he could rely on. It was better that way.
He heaved a sigh. Adjusted the straps of his backpack. "Hello?" he tried, calling out to the emptiness surrounding him.
Nothing answered.
He picked up the pace again, purposefully avoiding the more interesting doors. They felt more like a trap than anything else, and he was uneasy enough already. Or, perhaps paranoid was the right word. Yes, paranoid. As fantastical as this environment was, it made Thay almost feel like he was at home, the narrow hallways reminiscent of the tunnels he often roamed in Nine. But he couldn't draw much comfort from that. He didn't exactly have much of a home to go back to.
Now, though, he had Thee. Somewhere out there, Thee was waiting. Thay had to get back to him.
From within one of the rooms, Thay heard a quiet thud. His feet stopped moving as he tried to determine whether or not it would be worthwhile to check out the noise. With no allies, he had no one to watch his back in case anything went wrong. But outside of the Careers and perhaps his own District Partner, Thay felt confident that he at least stood a chance in a fight.
He should at least try. Another tribute gone was another step closer to home.
The noise came again. This time Thay followed it to a rather inconspicuous door, the kind that likely housed a bedroom of some kind. He'd been in and out of a lot of them over the course of the Games thus far, so he felt well prepared to deal with whatever - or whoever - was in the room.
Thay kept silent as he opened the door, taking in the rather open room. The only piece of furniture in the room was a bed shoved into the corner; across from the bed was another door, likely leading to a closet of some kind. Thay stepped fully into the room, looking around the door to see what he missed, and he immediately froze. The only other person in the room was… himself. Thay frowned, wondering what kind of weird mutt he was facing.
Until he noticed the missing arm.
"Thee?"
The other occupant of the room turned to face him, face breaking out into a smile. "Thay!" he said, moving towards him with arms outstretched as if he wanted a hug.
Thay's hand immediately jumped to the hilt of his knife, the other arm outstretched to keep the thing at bay. It couldn't be a real person. Thee wasn't here.
Thee frowned at him. "What are you doing?"
"You're not here," Thay said softly.
"Of course I am," Thee replied easily. "I had to find you again."
"I'm sorry." Thay wasn't sure what he was apologizing for, considering this was nothing more than a trick of some kind, but the words fell out of his mouth anyway.
"You left me," Thee whispered.
"I didn't know," was the only thing he could offer in response.
He dug his nails into his palms in an attempt to wake himself up from whatever sick dream he was having. But the hand that touched his arm was very real, and Thay could no longer pretend it was just a sick dream.
Thay couldn't tear himself out of the thing's grip fast enough. "You aren't real," Thay insisted, trying to convince himself that he needed to draw his knife, needed to defend himself against… against…
Thee just frowned at him, a touch of hurt in his expression. "Why would you say that? Have you forgotten all about me?"
"No! No, I just…" He squeezed his eyes shut. "You're in One. You're safe. You can't be here."
"But here we can be together again," Thee said, his eyes shining with what could almost be tears. "We were always supposed to be together."
"That's not my fault. We were just kids, what was I supposed to do?" Thay glanced around him, trying to formulate a plan. "That's why I'm trying to get home to you now, to fix things."
God, and the real Thee was probably seeing this right now. Thay wished more than anything that he could truly express how much he wanted to get back, how deeply he cared about his brother, but he feared that if he let his guard down for even an instant, he'd already be at a disadvantage.
"But you didn't even come back to check." Thee's lip trembled, a horrifying display of emotion from something that couldn't be real.
It wasn't real. Right?
"Our house was nothing but ash, Mom and Dad were dead!" Thay took a step back, finally putting together the barest shambles of a plan. "Ymir had to half drag me away! Don't tell me I could've tried harder, because I fucking know. I think about it every day. I should've taken you with me, I should've looked for you after. But it's too late for that, and all I can do now is promise that I'll do everything in my power to get back to you."
Thee sniffled. "But what if you can't?"
Thay set his jaw. "Then I hope you forgive me for what I'm about to do next."
Before Thee could process his words, Thay pulled open the door to a closet behind him, lunging forward to wrap a hand around Thee's wrist. Thee didn't take long to figure out what was about to happen, and he let out a startled cry, genuine fear filling his voice. Thay tried to block it out, putting all of his strength into pulling Thee towards him and then using that momentum to shove him through the open doorway.
The last thing he saw was Thee's panicked face before he slammed the door shut.
Thay sank down onto the floor wearily, pressing his back against the door to keep it closed. He flinched as he felt something smack against the wood, and then he heard Thee's frightened voice.
"Thay, please! Let me out! I can't- you have to let me out! Please! Help me!"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Thay muttered, his words mixing with Thee's panicked cries.
Thee hated the dark. Thee hated small spaces. Thee needed you, and you weren't there for him.
The door lurched behind him, as if Thee was trying to use all of his weight to break it down, but Thay stayed rooted in place. He couldn't bring himself to leave. Not this time.
He continued his apology as a soft chant, covering his ears with his hands in an attempt to muffle the cries behind him. It would be smart for him to leave now, to get out before the thing that wore his brother's face tried to come after him, but Thay stayed. He didn't know how long it lasted; he only knew that the noises slowly got quieter until they died out entirely, until suddenly the silence was more threatening than the noise.
Carefully, he took his hands away from his ears, the only sound being that of his own breathing. Thay slowly stood up, staring at the door. Before he could convince himself it was a terrible idea, he wrapped his hand around the handle, took a breath, and pulled the door open.
The closet was empty, as if nothing had ever been there at all.
11:46 am, The Basement.
When Makani was a little girl, there was nothing she loved more than a good story.
Bastian was particularly talented when it came to telling them. Even though he was a few years older than her, he was always patient and more than willing to spend time with her. She followed him around as if she was the moon orbiting the sun, desperate to get a glimpse of the light.
He'd weave stories for her, letting her act them out to her heart's content. Each day was a different tale, a new role for Makani to put herself in. She loved the way that his words would come to life in her own mind, and he was always patient with her, even when she managed to derail his carefully thought out storyline.
Makani wasn't sure why exactly she was reminiscing like this on the seventh day of the Games. Well, maybe she had a bit of a clue. She was homesick. After losing Alila, the only thing keeping her going was the fact that she so desperately wanted to go home. Her chest ached at the mere idea of being able to see the ocean again, of being able to talk to her brother without secrets weighing her down.
It wasn't fair.
She was beginning to lose track of how many times she'd cried - or at least come close to crying - over the past day. Crush probably thought she was beyond useless; that had to be why she kept disappearing to… well, Makani could only guess where. She supposed she should be grateful that Crush had saved her, but Makani didn't feel much of anything at the moment.
Sniffling quietly, Makani wondered if things would be the same even if she managed to get home. Despite her nonexistent chance, she enjoyed entertaining herself with daydreams of what would happen when she made it back to Four. She'd walk along the beach until her feet hurt from the sand, she'd swim in the ocean until she could barely remember what it felt like to be on dry land, she'd pick up shells until they spilled out of her pockets. She'd spend time with her friends, she'd eat dinner with her family, she'd talk to her brother again.
Once upon a time, where the sand met the sea, there lived a girl that would do anything for the people she loved.
A choked sob escaped her, and Makani covered her mouth with a hand to muffle the noise. She didn't want Crush to know that something was wrong. Makani was weak enough as it was, and she didn't need anyone else to be aware of that fact.
Besides, she'd spent enough time pushing people away back home that she could deal with this herself. She'd learned how to. As soon as she knew she was going into the Games, she cut ties with everyone, believing that it would be easier for both them and her that way. Looking back, maybe it was just selfish. She never gave them a real chance to say goodbye.
Had she managed to do the same to Alila? Was that why Alila had left her behind?
Makani couldn't understand where she'd gone wrong, what she'd done to push Alila away. She'd only been gone a few minutes, or so she thought. Alila was still alive. Her face hadn't been displayed on the wall last night. Makani could almost believe that Alila had killed Kano and ran, that it had nothing to do with Makani in the first place, but the cannons hadn't happened until far later in the day. She couldn't make sense of anything at all.
And even though Alila had left her, Makani missed her so desperately that she thought she'd never run out of tears to express her anguish.
There was a sudden soft pressure against her cheek. Makani jumped from the sensation, her head nearly hitting the wall again. She blinked rapidly, her vision finally clearing to see that Crush had knelt down in front of her, her hand still within inches of Makani's face.
They stared at each other for a long moment. Makani wasn't sure what to say. She wasn't used to her words failing her.
"You shouldn't cry," Crush said before Makani could summon some kind of excuse.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
Instead of responding, Crush just shook her head and offered something to her. Makani took it carefully, realizing that Crush had given her a wad of gauze to dry her eyes. She almost wanted to laugh, the sensation bubbling up out of nowhere, but she suppressed the urge. Crush didn't need to think that Makani had completely lost it.
"Thank you," she said softly.
Crush managed a nod before getting up, her movements rather odd. Makani wasn't sure what to make of the girl, but she figured she had to be in safe hands. After all, Crush hadn't done anything to hurt her yet. There wasn't any use in continuing this charade if she had bad intentions.
She sniffled again, wiping at her nose and wishing she felt less like a disaster. Strands of hair fell over her shoulder, and she just let them hang there. Makani wasn't sure when the braid had fallen out. She just seemed to keep losing things - her braid, her shell, her friend, herself. Makani wondered when it would all end.
"Thank you," Makani said again, more insistently. Crush looked over, a frown etched onto her face, but Makani kept going. "I mean, uh, for everything. I'm really glad you were there to help."
Crush stared at her for a long moment, and Makani squirmed slightly under her gaze. "It… was nothing," she finally muttered, ducking her head. "It would've been a shame to see you die to the likes of Imperia."
"Still. You didn't have to help," Makani said softly, cradling her broken hand again. "It would've made more sense for you to leave me there."
"I'd never let anything bad happen to you," Crush said with an intensity that made Makani recoil, though she didn't know why.
Another 'thank you' was on the tip of her tongue, but when Makani opened her mouth, what came out was, "Why?"
Crush gawked at her, her mouth opening and closing before she blurted out, "The bloodbath."
"Huh? Oh!" Makani sat up a little straighter. "It was- I couldn't-"
"Now we're even," Crush said, hunching over something that Makani couldn't see. It sounded like pencil scratching against paper, but Makani was too far away to tell for sure.
"Oh," Makani said softly. "Still. You didn't have to."
Crush's shoulders lifted in a shrug. "Wanted to."
Makani supposed she felt flattered by that. Maybe. Well, she wasn't quite sure what she felt. Her headache was beginning to return, so it was probably time for her to lay down again. But… she didn't want to, not when Crush was finally back from wherever she kept disappearing to. Makani was too scared of getting lost to try and hunt her down, and Crush usually left when she was asleep. Not that she'd gotten much of that.
The silence was beginning to make her uncomfortable, and Makani itched with the need to do something about it. Crush didn't seem like the type that wanted to hold much of a conversation, but Makani would do anything to fill the quiet gaps of conversation.
"Can I tell a story?" she finally asked, glancing over at Crush
To her credit, Crush appeared intrigued. "Sure."
And so Makani began to talk. About anything, about everything. She wasn't even sure that it was necessarily a story she was telling. She just wanted someone to know her, and with Alila… with Alila gone, Crush was all she had left.
When she was five, she picked up a shell that had a crab inside, and she'd burst into nearly hysterical tears when it pinched her finger. Bastian had to half carry her home so she wouldn't just collapse and live out the rest of her life by the ocean as an act of protest.
When she was six, she'd tried to run away from home. Her bag was mostly full of shells that she couldn't bring herself to leave behind, as well as a small stuffed dolphin that she slept with every night, so she wasn't exactly well prepared. She couldn't remember the reason why she'd tried to run away, but she did remember that Bastian had found her huddled behind a sand dune on his way home from school and shared half of his sandwich with her. Things never seemed so bad when he was around.
When she was nine, she found a whole litter of kittens in one of the abandoned beach houses up the road. They looked rather malnourished, so Makani planned a stakeout to see if the mother would show up. Bastian caught her trying to sneak out of her window that night to visit, and when she explained what she was doing, he just laughed and offered to help. Their parents would never allow animals in the house, but Makani was okay just visiting her new friends.
When she was twelve, she was so petrified of the Games that Bastian had to talk her down to keep her from having a total meltdown on their way to the square. Sure, Four had trainers and all, but some years they didn't have volunteers. She was the most timid one of her age group, and she certainly wouldn't be able to put up much of a fight if she got reaped. Bastian insisted that someone was volunteering that year, and told her they'd go swimming when reaping day was over. She still didn't know who was actually reaped. The volunteer spoke up too quickly for anyone to hear the original name.
When she was fifteen, Bastian had gone into the Games. Makani had tried to keep it together during the goodbyes, but she was never good at hiding her emotions. She was glued to the screen for the duration of the Games, and Khalia had to bribe her out of her room once a day so she could eat and see the sunlight. Makani had been grateful for the support, but at the time all she could focus on was her brother's safety.
Oh, did Makani hate the Games.
It was as if every story held a message, one intended for Bastian, since it wasn't like Makani could talk to him now. It was too late for a lot of things. She just wished it could all be different.
I'm sorry. I love you. I don't know how to leave. I miss you. Please don't forget me.
I'm scared.
Maybe Bastian would understand, maybe he wouldn't. Makani just wished that she could tell him everything herself. She hated hiding anything from him, but… it was the only way.
Once upon a time, where the sand met the sea, there lived a girl that would do anything for the people she loved.
When she finally ran out of words, Makani glanced over at Crush, but the other girl's expression was unreadable. Or maybe Makani's head just hurt too much to figure the other girl out. Either way, Crush didn't say anything at all. Makani wasn't sure if she preferred it that way or not.
Makani laid back on the ground, staring up at the ceiling. Perhaps ceiling was the wrong word. All she could see surrounding her was rocks, the furthest thing from the ocean. It was pressing in from all sides, making Makani long for the open ocean even more.
She heard a shuffle as Crush got to her feet, likely ready to leave again. "Can I come with you?" Makani asked, desperate for just a bit more human interaction. She was so tired of being alone.
Crush froze where she stood before shaking her head. "No. Not yet."
"Does yet mean I can eventually?" Makani asked hopefully.
This time, she got nothing more than a shrug in return. Makani felt herself deflate, resting her head back on the floor. Maybe it was for the best that she couldn't go. Suddenly, Makani felt bone tired, as if she could sink into the floor any minute.
So instead, she closed her eyes, hoping that sleep would come. She wished she could see the ocean again. Just once.
But that was nothing more than a dream.
It still wasn't enough.
Crush had tried everything. She even had Makani here with her, and it wasn't enough to get past her artistic block. This was her perfect moment to observe her muse up close, to capture her very essence, and yet…
Why wasn't it enough?
There was something different about Makani now that she was in front of Crush. Maybe it was too late for her to capture the vivacity that she'd seen way back during the parades. Something akin to defeat seemed to cling to Makani, and it affected Crush's art. There was a sorrow that wasn't there before.
What happened to her life? Was it so far gone that not even Crush could find a way to bring it back?
And then… the stories. Crush could listen to her talk for hours, could think to herself that only she got to hear the words Makani was saying, but even that wasn't enough to satisfy her. She was always hungry for more, desperate to attain that which likely didn't even exist.
But even if perfection was a construct that Crush harbored in her own mind, Makani was the right muse. Crush was sure of it.
Still, she'd begun to notice a pattern, one that Crush didn't particularly care to see. There was a certain reverence in Makani's voice when she spoke about specific people, and Crush couldn't help but fixate on that. Alila. Bastian. Even Khalia, who had barely more than a mention. That wasn't how things were supposed to be. If Makani was the only one for Crush, then it should go both ways; Crush should be the only one for Makani as well.
She had to do something. She had to find a way. This couldn't be over, not yet.
She'd do anything to make this work.
Crush sighed, reluctantly returning to her project. For now, all Crush could do was continue sculpting. Every waking moment was devoted to the piece in front of her. If she wasn't actively working on her sculpture, then she was considering what to do next. Even her sleep was becoming more sporadic and restless. This project had wholly possessed her, and it would drive her mad if she couldn't figure out how to make it perfect.
The thoughts rang dully in her head as she chipped away at the delicate bridge of Makani's nose, stopping after every hit to compare with the scraps of papers she had littering the floor, each one a perfect rendition of Makani's face.
She couldn't stop. She wouldn't let herself lose her passion, her drive. She couldn't become soulless like her father or a pushover like her brother or a specter like her mother.
Maybe her mother was here now, watching. Waiting.
Crush shook off the prying eyes. She didn't need anyone. She didn't need the glory. This was all solely for herself, for her own passion.
Nothing would get in her way.
1:47 pm, Second Floor of The East Wing.
The silence was stifling.
But of course, what was there for Alila to say? She'd never been close with Justus, not when he had Phaedra and she had Makani. There was never a reason to try.
Maybe she should've tried. Maybe there were a million things she should've done differently, starting with her foolishness during the bloodbath. But Alila was beyond all that now, and if she didn't continue to look forward, she'd get stuck in the past. She couldn't have that, not when Makani needed her to be at her best.
She glanced over at Justus, who was fidgeting with the ring on his finger. To her knowledge, Phaedra and Justus weren't married, but they appeared to have some level of commitment to each other beyond normal dating. Perhaps it was some kind of promise ring, a way to symbolize that they would put each other first even in a place like the Games. That didn't make any sense at all to Alila. But then again, she hadn't exactly come here to make friends and look at what happened with Makani.
Now that Makani was gone, Alila could finally admit it to herself. They were friends. Maybe even closer to sisters. And Alila would do anything for her family.
"You're not worried about her, are you?" Alila blurted out before she could stop herself.
Justus paused and looked up at her. "About Phaedra? I mean, I know she can handle herself. If anything, she's probably more worried about me."
Alila felt herself frown at that, though she wasn't sure why. Justus appeared to notice her shift in demeanor and said, "It's not that either of us are underestimating each other. I know she can take care of herself, but I want to be there to help her anyway. Just because I love her."
"You make it sound easy," Alila said with a quiet laugh. "Things aren't quite that simple."
"Are you sure?" Justus tilted his head to the side. "Maybe you just haven't settled on what it is you want."
Alila bristled at his comment. "I know exactly what I want. I want to win. That's what I came here for."
Shrugging, Justus got up off the floor. "Then it's as simple as that."
"Whatever," she muttered, snatching up her bag. "We should get moving."
"It might be worth it to go another floor down," Justus suggested, adjusting his makeshift sling again. "I mean, they blocked off the top floor as soon as we left, so maybe they want to do the same for this one."
"That's a chance I'm not willing to take yet," Alila insisted, starting off down one of the hallways. "What if we leave too early and it blocks us from being able to go back?"
She heard Justus's rapid footsteps as he tried to catch up to her. "Just a suggestion. After all, Phaedra did say the only way for her was down."
"But we don't know how far," Alila argued. "And that doesn't account for where Makani might be. I don't know if you remember, but we're not just looking for Phaedra."
"Of course I remember that," Justus snapped back, starting to get irritated. "I don't know if you remember, but we only have a lead on one of them."
"Yes, because you wanted to go find her first," Alila said, spinning around to face him. "Maybe if we'd gone the other way we could've found traces of Makani instead, and guess what! We'd be in the opposite situation here."
Justus blinked down at the finger she was jabbing dangerously close to his face. "I said it was just a suggestion. I know you're worried about Makani, but she can take care of herself too."
"That's not what I'm saying! Makani didn't even have her weapons on her." Alila let out a huff. "I just- neither of the cannons were for her, so she could be in a worse situation."
Justus took a step back. "We'll find her, okay? Just… trust me."
Alila didn't know how to say that that felt like a big ask at the moment, so she just sighed and kept the thought to herself. "Let's keep going, then."
Every conversation seemed to build up to some kind of argument, and it was wearing Alila down. She wished that she could justify ditching him entirely, but unfortunately, there were more benefits to keeping him around. She just had to hope that they didn't end up finding Phaedra first. Though, of course, she figured Justus probably felt similarly about finding Makani.
Granted, it wasn't that she disliked Justus. She just… wasn't sure what to make of him. Alila was used to making snap judgements about people and sticking with them, but Justus? She couldn't seem to make up her mind, possibly because she was constantly on edge around him. Perhaps her ego was still bruised from when he and Phaedra had forced her under house arrest of sorts. But since he didn't appear to be the biggest threat under normal circumstances, and especially since he was currently injured, Alila didn't feel threatened by him in any way.
She risked a glance at him, trying to recall the little information she knew about him off the top of her head. She was pretty sure he had a larger family, though certainly not as large as hers. Though his fighting skills left something to be desired, he was clever and a good strategist. If Kano hadn't been around, Shai would've likely taken a particular interest in Justus instead, so there was some clear insecurity or weakness to exploit there. The strength of his connection to Phaedra was commendable, but Alila wasn't entirely sure if it would prove beneficial in the end.
Frowning to herself, Alila realized that she didn't know much about Justus at all. She wasn't quite sure why that bothered her all of a sudden, but it probably wouldn't be relevant in the long run anyway.
Justus suddenly paused, glancing around the area. Alila gave him a strange look before moving past, but he gripped her arm. "Wait."
"What for?" Alila pulled her arm out of his grasp. "There's nothing here."
"I just… thought I heard something," Justus muttered, his eyes darting around as if on the lookout for something.
"Like what?"
"Like… whispers? I can't make anything out. Looks like it's gone now."
"More like for now," Alila said with a sigh, starting to walk again. "We should just keep going. We'll find out what it was sooner or later."
"Maybe sooner is better," Justus replied, doing a bit of a jog to catch up. "We don't want to get caught off guard."
"I can handle whatever this Arena throws at us," Alila shot back, running a hand along the fan at her hip.
"I'm sure you can, but I'm down an arm. I certainly don't want to run headfirst into something we're not prepared for."
Alila forced herself to take a deep breath and then let it out again. "Fine. Let's look around for a minute. Does that work?"
He didn't seem entirely pleased with her offer, but Alila wasn't sure what else to do. She was too busy thinking to hear anything at all. And the longer she was away from Makani without any kind of word about what happened to the girl, the more anxious she got.
"That works," Justus finally agreed. "But we still shouldn't split up."
"Fine by me. Besides, I didn't hear anything. I may need you to tell me if you hear it again."
But as they searched, Alila quickly grew frustrated by their side quest, as the surrounding rooms contained nothing of interest. Alila wanted to move on, to be able to resume her search for Makani. Maybe the Arena was getting to Justus, and he had heard nothing at all.
"Wait. There it is again."
This time, when Alila stopped to listen, she understood why he was having issues hearing the sound in the first place. It wasn't just one voice; rather, it was like a crowd of people, all speaking over each other. They were almost familiar, but she couldn't pick any out yet. It was almost as if the voices were surrounding her, as if they were speaking to her, and-
Alila gritted her teeth. "Fuck," she muttered. "This is for me."
Justus shot her a worried look. "For you?"
"My siblings," was the only thing she offered as an explanation.
Thankfully, Justus didn't seem to need anything further explanation. He just nodded and put his free hand on the hilt of his sword. "They can't be here," he reminded her.
"I know that much," she replied, trying to keep the bite out of her voice. "But this feels… familiar somehow."
As she wandered down the hall, she began to pick out more individual voices. Zuli, Peridot, Warner. April, Lacey, Quinton. Archimedes and Diocletian. Ebony and Ivory. Jade and Amber. She started losing track of them as more voices filled the space, and for an instant, Alila was nearly home again. While she loved the silence back home, somehow this cacophony was nearly welcoming, as out of place as it felt in the Games.
Alila supposed it was hard to miss something before it was gone, but she certainly missed it now.
"That's a lot of voices," Justus murmured, almost to himself. "I thought I had a big family."
"You'll come home though, right?"
Alila swore loudly, bringing one of her fans out. "This is from my goodbyes."
Justus looked at her, alarmed. "Your goodbyes?"
"That was Thee's voice," she said softly. "He never really wanted me to go."
She raised her voice, saying exactly what she did what seemed like an eternity ago. "I'll be home before you know it."
"Promise?"
Even though she knew the question was coming, Alila hesitated. When he'd asked the first time, she'd been a lot more confident about her standing among the rest of the tributes, whether she'd met them or not. But now… god, this was so different from anything she'd expected.
But she had to make it home, no matter what.
"I promise," she finally said, a few beats too late.
Back home, Thee was probably watching. She hoped he still believed in her.
"Who's that?" Justus asked cautiously, as if he was afraid to ask.
A small smile lifted up the edges of her lips. "Thee. My brother."
Justus gave a measured nod, opening his mouth to say something, but he was cut off by a noise that made Alila whip her head around. Thee and the rest of her family certainly were not in this Arena, but…
"Alila!"
"Makani?" Alila called, nearly throwing herself off balance as she spun around. "Makani, is that you?"
Justus frowned, hand still on the hilt of his sword. "I'm not sure-"
She didn't wait for the rest of his sentence, instead taking off down the hall as fast as her legs would carry her. She tried to follow the source of the voice, simultaneously unwilling to admit that it could be anything other than Makani and unable to care if that was the case. This was the closest thing she had to a lead. She nearly rammed her shoulder into a wall as she took a corner too fast, uncharacteristically clumsy as she sprinted past the rooms. Deep down, she knew that she was being irrational and that it was a long shot for Makani to really be there, but Alila had to keep up hope.
She'd follow the voice to the ends of the earth if that's what it took.
Skidding to a stop, Alila panted quietly, glancing around the empty hallways. "Makani?" she called again. "Where did you go?"
"Alila!" she heard, closer and less panicked this time.
Alila jogged to the end of the hall, belatedly wondering if Justus had managed to follow her. But she was soon distracted by Makani rounding the corner, looking just as she'd left her. Makani's face immediately brightened, and Alila couldn't help but smile back.
"Is that you?" Alila whispered, taking a step towards Makani.
Makani smiled and held out a hand that Alila was ready and willing to take before she felt something shove her hard. She staggered to the side as a clang rang out that reverberated in her ears. When Alila glanced back to see what had happened, she saw that Justus was there, holding his shield up against Makani.
No, Alila realized, as she glanced down at the knife in the girl's hand. Not Makani.
Her expression twisted into something nearly ugly as she realized her plan had been foiled. It was likely that this Makani had been waiting for her to let her guard down, waiting for her to get close enough to slot a knife between her ribs.
And to think it had nearly worked.
"Nice save," Makani sneered. Alila nearly recoiled at how similar the voices were, though Makani had never sounded so confident.
Alila brought out her fan and lunged forward, ready to pick a fight if that's where the encounter was headed. "Where is she?" Alila demanded. "Where's Makani?"
The clone snickered. "Doesn't matter. You can't get to her now."
"What does that mean?"
"You'll find out soon enough," the clone said with a grin. "We all have our roles to play."
It ran off without another word, but when Alila tried to go after it, she felt a hand on her arm. She glared up at Justus, then instantly backed off when she saw his expression.
"It could know something," Alila protested, but even she didn't believe her words.
"Or it could lead you back to a hundred more of those things. Or, and this is what I suspect, they're programmed not to give up details like that. No matter what you try, it won't work." Justus watched the clone turn the corner, sighing quietly. "It's not worth it."
Unfortunately, he was right. Alila knew he was. That's what she hated to admit.
"Fuck," she muttered, kicking the wall.
"I'm sorry," Justus offered, as if that was all he had to say. Alila couldn't blame him.
"Why did you step in? You could've let me die there."
"An Arculeo never goes back on his word," Justus said simply. "And I said I'd help you find Makani, just like you said you'd help me find Phaedra. That means not letting you get killed by a clone."
Alila bit her lip, mulling over his words. She couldn't say she fully understood it, but then again, she'd helped him back with the Kano clone. Maybe she understood more than she was willing to admit.
"Thank you," she said sincerely. "I… appreciate it."
Justus merely shrugged. "I'll have your back if you have mine."
"Deal."
The dynamic between them had shifted ever so slightly. Alila didn't quite know how to put her finger on what was different, but she figured it was a good thing. Any time that they spent doing something besides bicker was a step in the right direction.
As long as it helped Alila find Makani, that was all that mattered.
5:34 pm, Location Unknown.
"You still need my help."
Imperia huffed and rolled her eyes, glancing up at the oh-so-helpful Jude clone that had been following her around all day. "I don't need anything, and certainly not from the likes of you. Shouldn't you be traumatizing more innocent children?"
Jude gave her a wide grin, the expression unsettling on a face she was supposed to be familiar with. Still, Imperia didn't consider herself to be easily rattled. "More? Are you trying to insinuate that Jude was innocent?"
"Obviously not," Imperia muttered, rifling through files again. "Neither am I, but at least I'll admit it."
"Ooh, so high and mighty," Jude said, leaning against one of the file cabinets. "Good to know you're the same as ever."
"How would you know? It's not like you're actually Jude. For someone that's supposed to act just like him, it's far too easy to tell you apart."
The not-Jude just offered her a smug grin. "It fooled you at first, though, huh?"
Whoever was speaking through Jude was very obviously trying to get under Imperia's skin, but she was having none of it. She just heaved a sigh and moved on to the next drawer, hoping that sooner or later she'd find what she was looking for.
"Whatever you're trying to do, it's not going to work. I'm thoroughly entertained by whatever tactic you're attempting to use, however. Is there a reason you haven't attempted to kill me yet? Or would that be too dull for you?"
"I'm just observing," Jude said, swinging his feet until one of them clanged off of the cabinet he was sitting on. "You'd know all about that, wouldn't you? I think the more important question is, what are you doing?"
Imperia huffed, not bothering to look back at him. "Isn't it obvious? I thought you were supposed to be clever. I'm standing in the middle of a file room in an Arena where someone managed to store an incredible amount about all of us, enough to give us lookalikes that appear to hold some semblance of memories from the person they represent. I want to see what I can find."
"A new experiment in the making, hm?" She heard a slight rustle, then felt Jude's presence hovering behind her. "Any ideas yet?"
"Makani and Crush are both off the table. It's pointless to try and repeat something I've already done," Imperia said, mostly talking to herself. "The only Career that would've been fun is already dead, which is a true shame. And I would never try to pick a fight I can't win, so the rest of them are off the table. I'd try for that adorable little alliance, but with Merix dead, I suspect they're having a hard time anyway. No use in tampering with something that's already broken."
"And that leaves you with two," Jude drawled. "Thay and Jack."
Imperia bit back a scathing comment. "Either would be quite fascinating," she muttered to herself, pulling another file out of the cabinet before tossing it on top with a sigh. "I do quite love picking at the ones that are too stoic for their own good. Besides, I could get back at Thay for his meddling back during training, or I could prove to the real Jude that I can make Jack snap. Perhaps I can find a way to do both. They are supposed to be allies, after all."
"Not anymore," Jude said casually. "They split up yesterday morning."
Imperia hummed at that. "Makes sense. They didn't look quite as close as the little trio of friends. I suspect they found each other difficult to deal with."
"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you?"
"Somehow, you're more insufferable than the real one."
"Perhaps, but you just don't want to admit that you miss him."
"A ridiculous notion," Imperia shot back quickly.
This time, Jude didn't respond, but she figured he didn't have to. Whoever was talking to her, they knew more about her than she wanted to accept. Did she miss Jude? Imperia couldn't say for certain that miss was the right word, but she felt his absence. It almost helped to have this… other Jude hanging around to bounce off ideas. She missed the challenge that Jude brought more than anything else.
But did that really count as missing him? Imperia didn't quite think of it that way. But, of course, she was merely an observer. She didn't need nonsense like feelings to drag her down. That's what would ruin everyone else in this Arena.
"You could've done more to Makani when you had the chance," Jude said, breaking the silence as if he couldn't stand to let her think for too long. "Why didn't you?"
Imperia raised an eyebrow. "Why would I? Crush was far too close for me to get away with much, and besides, I don't want to waste my energy on senseless violence, unlike certain others in this Arena. If I have to resort to violence to achieve an end, I will. But Makani's fate isn't up to me."
"You certainly have an interesting outlook on things," Jude mused, and she heard him take a few steps away. "You're a rather curious specimen, Imperia Bachmann."
Her spine stiffened. "Is that so?"
"Of course," he said, opening a drawer. "I could end you right now, just like your beloved District Partner, but I'm far more interested in seeing what you have to offer me."
Imperia spun around with a sneer on her face. "I am not a little lab rat for you to play around with."
Holding up his hands in mock surrender, Jude just chuckled. "I would never insinuate such a thing, dearest Imperia. You're far too capable to be reduced to something like that."
There was now a file sitting on the cabinet next to him.d Imperia gave him a wary look before snatching it up. It appeared to be incomplete, only containing two packets. Imperia tried not to let herself be fazed by that.
Just as she suspected, the packets belonged to one Jacqueline Carmichael and Thay Yukimura.
She raised an eyebrow at Jude. "Where are the rest?"
"Not relevant," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Just as you explained earlier, the others are of no use to you."
Imperia's lips pulled down into a frown. She hated being this… perceived. It made her feel like she was somehow wandering into a trap. She just… wasn't sure how.
Jude smiled at her innocently. If she squinted, she could pretend like he was the boy from her childhood who hadn't a care in the world, no matter how little time that had lasted. Or perhaps neither of them were ever happy at all. That was more likely, actually. It was simply that the only solace they found was in each other.
How terribly tragic.
"I will certainly not be falling for any of your silly traps," Imperia said, gazing back down at the files. "You'll have to try harder than this to pull one over on me."
"It's a dangerous game. One might argue you're flying too close to the sun."
"If I don't soar to the highest of highs and stoop to the lowest of lows, I'll never achieve anything at all. An experiment is only as good as the measures taken to make it happen."
"I'm sure Diana would be proud if she saw you now." Jude twirled a pen between his fingers, shooting Imperia a look that she couldn't decipher.
"I don't need anyone to be proud of me, certainly not Diana," Imperia said with a laugh. "I think you'll find I'm not as easy to break as Jude."
Jude merely offered her a shrug. "Have you chosen?"
"Of course," Imperia said, handing one of the packets back to him. "But for the record, I was going to do this regardless of what you had to offer me."
"Naturally."
Imperia had to keep looking ahead, had to find the next experiment. Regardless of whatever ghosts of the past the Capital tried to dredge up to "help" her, she'd do all of it on her own. With new information and plenty of time to formulate a plan, Imperia was still set up to win.
Nothing would get in her way.
7:13 pm, The Basement.
As Phaedra stood in front of a large set of onyx doors, she felt her heart beat in her throat. Her descent into the depths of the Arena had gone more smoothly than she'd anticipated. On the one hand, there was only one path open to her -, and every time she tried to deviate, the doors were locked -, but on the other, nothing had shown up to intercept her. The weight of her shield on her back was a comfort, and her spear had never left her side. She'd paused in one of the rooms near a staircase to stay the night, the hilt of her spear still clutched in her hand. It was a restless sleep, but at least that was more than nothing. As long as she had no idea what lay ahead, she had to be on guard and ready for anything.
For Phaedra was still completely alone.
She'd tried to make her way down as fast as she could after her conversation with Justus, haunted by the idea that it could be their last one. No matter how much she tried to tell herself that they'd find each other again, a little voice in the back of her head persisted.
There was always a ticking clock looming above her and Justus's relationship. And now, they were almost out of time.
But she'd make it back to him. She had to. If an Arculeo never went back on his word, then Phaedra supposed a Nikostratos wouldn't either.
Taking a deep breath, Phaedra pushed open the doors, emerging into what was more like a dark cavern than an actual room. Her shoes landed in a puddle, and she wrinkled her nose as she immediately moved out of the water. The whole area was dimly lit and damp. There was enough light for her to see that the tunnel stretched on for a while, but she couldn't see exactly how far. She couldn't determine the source of the light either, but she figured it wasn't worth questioning.
Whatever she had expected to be on the bottom floor was wrong. What horrors could be waiting in a place like this?
She opened her mouth to try calling out into the darkness, but she just as quickly closed it and decided against the idea. This sort of environment led to noises echoing, and she didn't want to attract unwanted attention. Besides, it was a long shot for Justus to have arrived here already.
So instead, she crept forward, spear outstretched, ready to face whatever lay ahead. She already felt weary, which didn't bode well for her, but she didn't feel as if sleep was a viable option either. Phaedra was tired of sitting around, and now she finally had something else to do. It was just a shame that she had been separated from Justus in order to get here.
Though it had only been a day since their separation, Phaedra could feel the emptiness in her heart, the kind that made her chest hurt. She missed him more than anything, and she was beyond terrified that he was already dead. She'd been asleep when the recap had started, and by the time she managed to rouse herself from sleep, she'd only managed to catch Kano's face before the whole thing disappeared. The two cannons the day before had been so close together that she had to consider them to be from the same encounter, and that didn't leave very many options.
Typically the girl came first during the recap, but Phaedra hadn't heard anything about Makani when she spoke to Justus. She knew Alila and Justus were together, but not much beyond that. Outside of her three remaining allies - if they could even be called that anymore - the only tribute left that came before Kano was the little one from Three, Merix. Based on what she knew about his alliance, however, she wasn't sure they were well equipped enough to take on someone as highly trained as Kano. So the odds of the cannon being Merix's felt rather slim in Phaedra's mind.
As for which of her allies it could be… well, Makani felt like the least likely option. Sure, she was away from Alila's side, but Phaedra couldn't imagine that someone had managed to take out both of the Fours in one go. But, granted, she wasn't sure where Kano or Makani had ended up.
In any event, that left Alila and Justus. Though Justus had said that the Kano they'd spent the night observing was a clone, that meant the real one had been running around the Arena doing god knows what. If that was true, then perhaps he really had killed Shai. Phaedra almost couldn't blame him. And if he'd killed one ally, then he'd have no qualms about killing another, and he already had that vendetta against Alila, and-
Phaedra shook her head. She needed to stop thinking about it. This train of thought would get her nowhere in the end; she'd wind up talking herself in circles, driving up her anxiety level.
Sighing to herself, she continued her journey down the hallway. She had to have faith. Justus was fine. He'd find her. She'd find him. And everything would be okay.
The tunnel eventually opened up to a wider cavern, with plenty of nooks and crannies all around. That made Phaedra frown; she couldn't figure out why an area such as this would need areas to hide or things to duck behind. But then again, she'd been sent down this way for a reason. To explore her destiny… whatever that meant. Whoever had orchestrated this was probably watching her now, watching her wonder what she'd been brought here for. More tests? Phaedra had completed enough of those in her life.
Besides, after Petra, Phaedra was more aware than ever that destiny or not, she was still human. And humans could break.
She heard a noise behind her and spun around, her shield in her hand before she could think twice. Phaedra gripped it more tightly in her hand as she surveyed the scene in front of her. She wasn't alone anymore.
But the more she looked, the more perplexed she was. The beings in front of her were humanoid in shape, but there was nothing to distinguish one from the other. None of them had any faces, as if they were merely the base for whatever creations Phaedra had run into the day before. And yet, while each was a blank canvas, there was clearly something distinguishing each from the others. Phaedra could point out the different weapons that they each bore: rapier, whip, knives, and bladed gauntlets on the hands.
One, two, three, four. From what she could tell, it was like her private session all over again. But these certainly didn't look like trainers, and Phaedra dreaded having to figure out their fighting styles in the heat of the moment.
Once they were content that she'd noticed them, one immediately rushed her - Gauntlets, who aimed two blows at her face and forced her to fall back. Both hits clanged off of Phaedra's shield, but the momentary distraction allowed for something to snake around her ankle, nearly dragging her to the ground. Phaedra managed to catch herself with one hand, using her other to fling the shield at the one holding the whip that was wrapped around her ankle. Her shield bounced off of the thing's head, and its grip on the whip loosened, allowing Phaedra to free her ankle and get back up.
Rapier and Knives were still circling her, giving Phaedra a moment to reassess the situation as she snatched her shield off the ground. Gauntlets and Whip had been in tune with one another, the former distracting her while the latter tried to bring her down. It was a move that seemed almost familiar, and-
"Blythe and Yasha," she whispered to herself, looking between the two figures. They didn't seem to register her words, but Phaedra felt her hunch was correct. If their fighting was styled after two people she knew, then perhaps she'd be better at fending off any attacks.
If she recognized two opponents, then Phaedra figured she should recognize the others as well. Wyverna was the only person she knew that used a rapier, and while there was no shortage of knife wielders in Two, Phaedra felt sure that this one was supposed to be Petra. Somehow, that felt like the only viable option.
Great, so they were representations of people back home. She was actively friends with three of them and… well, Petra was Petra, but at least Nevida and Renji didn't seem to have counterparts. That was almost a kindness. Phaedra was used to fighting with them, not against them, so she wasn't sure how that fight would go.
Even better, Phaedra could now discern all of her opponents' fighting styles. Wyverna, graceful and excellent at parrying. Yasha, strong and hotheaded. Blythe, light on her feet and good at tripping people up. Petra, who was great at everything and exceptionally lethal. Phaedra could work with this. She had to try.
For Justus.
Petra dove in next, knives grazing against Phaedra's skin no matter how fast she moved to avoid them. "She" was more relentless than she was during their fight at the Fortuna Equestris, but that made sense as well. This version couldn't shed blood, couldn't be broken the way Petra had been. As far as Phaedra knew, this was already a losing battle. How was she supposed to defeat something that wasn't even alive?
Phaedra lifted her shield to block Petra's spinning knives before noticing Wyverna coming up on her other side. She planted one foot behind her, letting the rapier pass over her torso, and thrusted her spear forward. It sank into the side of Wyverna's chest, but she didn't even flinch. Phaedra yanked her spear back and retreated a few steps to reevaluate.
Now that there was a hole in Wyverna's side, Phaedra could see the metal within. If she could just figure out where they had weak spots, perhaps she could begin to target those. Hopefully it would be similar to that of a regular opponent. The heart or the head would be the safest bet.
The four of them were circling her again, but Phaedra stood her ground, not ready to give up anything else. She feinted towards Wyverna before lunging at Petra, knowing that she had to get Petra out of the way first. She'd caused Phaedra the most issues out of any of her opponents, and Phaedra wasn't ready to die, not yet. Petra spun out of the way, knives whizzing about her. The blades skated across the skin on Phaedra's hand, drawing blood without cutting deep.
Drawing back quickly, Phaedra realized that they were staying out of her way for the most part. This wasn't much of a fight, not yet.
She was missing something.
Her spine stiffened. Even though these were far beyond trainers, four was still too similar to her private session. So far, this whole thing felt like a game of sorts, as if they were trying to herd her in a particular direction.
Phaedra dropped to the ground, kicking out one of her legs to knock down Yasha as well. She heard a quiet thunk and looked up to see an arrow sticking out of Petra's shoulder. A quick glance over revealed an archer huddled on a ledge several feet above where they were now, rapidly reloading another arrow.
She cursed aloud. Of course. How could she have forgotten? While Rhoda had used a spear for the Fortuna Equestris, that wasn't her main weapon. She'd only used it because the Fortuna Equestris wasn't an agreeable environment for ranged weapons.
An archer added something new to the mix, and Phaedra just had to figure out how to exploit that.
Phaedra rolled to the side to avoid another arrow, which hit Petra in the forehead. "She" fell to the ground and didn't move, making Phaedra feel momentarily grateful. At least now she knew these things could be taken down; they weren't completely unstoppable.
Something dug into Phaedra's wrist, causing her to cry out in pain as she was harshly tugged towards Blythe and into Wyverna's waiting rapier. Thinking quickly, Phaedra dropped her spear and wrapped her hand around the whip, pulling Blythe into the path of the rapier instead. Blythe struggled to get away, but Phaedra instead kicked out with her foot, driving Wyverna back. Her free hand still held the shield, which she used to smash into Blythe's head, forcing the clone to drop her whip. With her hand now free, Phaedra scooped her spear off the ground, and in one quick move, plunged it into the thing's chest.
Two down.
Phaedra turned around just fast enough to bring up her shield to cover her face, hearing the familiar clang of an arrow bouncing off. She wished Justus was here - they were always good at watching each other's back.
Something rammed into her side and sent her to the floor, spear skittering out of her reach. Phaedra raised her shield, going to slam it against her opponent, but she immediately let go of it in favor of rolling to the side to dodge Yasha's metal gauntlet, which slammed into the floor inches from her face. Yasha lifted it up again, givingPhaedra just enough time to grip her shoulders, swinging one leg up to knock the girl onto her side.
From there she moved quickly, desperately trying to avoid the blades on Yasha's gauntlets. She hooked her arms under Yasha's, her legs fighting to keep the other girl under control. Yasha kicked and fought with all she had, but Phaedra could still out match her when it came down to it. She could see Rhoda still trying to take aim, and she knew that, for these clones, they didn't have stakes. Rhoda would take any available shot.
Phaedra fought to stay in control, the gauntlets digging into the skin of her arms as Yasha tried to fight her way free. Rivulets of blood streamed down her skin, but Phaedra wouldn't give up so easily. She just needed the right moment.
There.
She ducked her head out of the way at the last minute, shifting just enough that Yasha was in the way of the incoming arrow. She felt the body in her arms stiffen and then stop moving, letting out a quiet sigh of relief.
That only left two of her Fortuna Equestris opponents, and something told her she'd have to get Wyverna out of the way first. While their fight at the tournament had massively been in Phaedra's favor, she knew Wyverna was still more than capable.
Shoving the third body to the side, Phaedra lunged forward to snatch her spear and shield off the ground, ready to face off against Wyverna again. As she did so, another arrow clattered against the stone less than an inch from her ankle. Phaedra knew that Rhoda was beginning to anticipate her movements; if that was the case,, this fight could already be over, regardless of how many opponents had already dropped.
"C'mon," Phaedra muttered, watching Wyverna. "Let's finish this."
Wyverna's movements were almost like Alila's, now that Phaedra had seen them both in action. They were both graceful to a fault, almost dancing out of the way of any attacks. Phaedra felt as if she was being tugged into the dance as well, following a rhythm that wasn't her own. But no, her fighting wasn't a dance; it was a language, one that only she spoke.
Phaedra was well aware that Wyverna was trying to keep her back to Rhoda at all times, but Phaedra's goal was to move so quickly that Rhoda couldn't figure out where to aim. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't seem to get Wyverna to go where she wanted, and it was beginning to frustrate her.
A sharp pain lanced through her, and Phaedra cried out, glancing down to see the tip of an arrow protruding from her right shoulder. She gritted her teeth and spun around, launching her spear at Rhoda with everything she had. Her shoulder screamed in agony, but she watched with a small amount of satisfaction as her spear plunged into Rhoda's chest and she slumped down before toppling from the ledge she was perched on.
That just left Wyverna. Even though Phaedra didn't have a weapon besides the arrow sticking out of her and the shield in her hand, she still felt confident. She could more than handle herself like this.
If the faceless being in front of her could've smiled, Phaedra would've sworn that it did just then. Chills ran down her spine, but she ignored it and pressed on. This was just another obstacle, one that wouldn't stop her.
"Child of gold," it intoned in a raspy voice that almost sounded like the Styx. It didn't have a mouth, no way to speak, but Phaedra heard the words clear as day. "What a great destiny you have. I look forward to seeing it through to the end."
"What if I make my own destiny?" Phaedra tried to stand strong, but there was the slightest tremble in her voice.
"Oh, my dear, if only it was that easy. Many heroes have tried, and many have fallen. You might just be next."
"I don't want to be a hero," Phaedra whispered, so quietly that she wasn't sure anyone could hear her at all. "I just want to be me."
There was no satisfaction when she disarmed Wyverna. There was no satisfaction when she took Wyverna's own weapon and turned it against her. There was no satisfaction when she realized she'd taken down all of her opponents.
This wasn't what Phaedra wanted at all.
Panting quietly, Phaedra cradled her shoulder, trying to catch the blood dripping down. Her lack of sleep was starting to catch up to her, and all she wanted to do was collapse and never get up again.
But she had to fight on. After all, that's what she was made for.
Kills:
Thay Yukimura: II
Shai Kingston: II
Crush Xing: II
Kano Arledge: II
Phaedra Nikostratos: I
Alila Perwane: I
Lilith Beherit: I
Justus Arculeo: I
Nash Prior: I
Arena: I