Regret
The arena soon came into view as Hero rose from the tubes. A mosaic of broken and uneven rock shelves, some with jagged spires point out from them leaving but the narrowest of platforms for one to shuffle around on. Others were covered with outcropping shelves of rock. Separating the plateaus were deep, sheer chasms, some seemingly disappearing into the darkness. Rickety-looking bridges connected some plateaus, the only way to cross from one plateau to another since the gaps between them were too wide to jump across for most and the abyssal chasms would deter even the most reckless of tributes from trying to make the jump. Several of these bridges connect the plateau on which the Cornucopia lay to others. However, the barren wastes would most likely cause the other tributes to risk and fight for supplies in the Cornucopia.
30…29…28…27…26...
Hero's attention turned to the supplies that lay at the heart of the Cornucopia, noting the spear and shield that lay within. An array of other weapons had also been provided. All manner of swords, knives and axes. Several backpacks also lay dotted inside of the ring of pedestals, with larger ones residing in the centre.
10...9…8…7…6…
Hero started to prime himself, ready to dash towards the Cornucopia's centre, the other tributes doing the same. He noted the tributes next to him, the small boy from Eight and the girl from Seven.
5…4…3…2…1…
The gong sounded.
Hero sprung into action and sprinted towards the centre aiming to grab the spear and the shield. Chaos erupted around him. Thorough Hero deemed it best not to take note of it until he had armed himself at least, lest he allowed himself to be distracted and in the arena a lack of attentiveness was lethal. Once he had reached the Cornucopia's heart he picked up the shield and spear, then quickly turned outward to survey the mayhem and havoc that had engulfed the central plateau.
Screams.
Metal crashing against metal.
Blades piercing and slicing flesh.
The screams.
Blood.
Blood staining the once shining blades.
Blood leaking out running on the rocky flood below
The girl from Seven desperately tried to run with the precious supplies and weapons that had been obtained only to receive a dagger to the back of her neck thrown by his district partner, Regal De Loughery. He sees the boy from Five running towards the bridges that lay directly in front of him.
The spear. Throw it!
But he does not. He just stands there, clutching his weapon and staring out as the boy reaches the bridge.
Failure!
Chase him down!
He does not do that either.
Failure!
The boy from Five slips away. Slips away from him. Hero hoped that his allies were occupied and did see that had allowed an enemy to escape. He knew what they would say. What they would do. Abandon him. But the Capitol no doubt saw. Everyone back in one saw. His parents saw.
They saw!
Failure!
They saw!
Failure!
They saw!
There's still an opportunity to prove yourself, Hero told himself. Still a chance to redeem yourself. Still a chance to prove that you are worthy of your namesake. He took a deep breath and readied himself to do what he was destined to do. He scanned the surrounding area, took a look at who remained in the area.
Then the small boy from Eight, Louis Denim, emerged.
What followed suddenly seemed so natural to Hero. At that moment all the hesitation and doubt that he had left him.
He plunged his spear into the boy's chest, causing him to splutter and cough up blood, with his last breaths Louis managed to allow a single word to escape. "Why?"
Hero pulled the spear from the tiny boy's chest and watched the last vestiges of life fade from his eyes. It rang through his mind, Louis' last words. No, last word. Why?. Because you had stood between me and what my whole life had been leading to. My destiny, Hero said to himself. However, that answer did little to cease the question"Why?" from circulating through his mind. It did little to allay the doubts just had just before he had on the horrific deed.
The cornucopia and fallen into an eerie calm. Only he and the other career within, with everyone else fleeing no doubt hoping to find shelter in this barren wasteland that was their arena.
"Good catch Hero," Berthold said.
Hero looked startled
"He almost got away and stole what was ours. But you managed to catch brat." Berthold added.
"Thanks." Hero replied. His words were empty. Normally, he would welcome praise in whatever he came, he craves it. Praise was what drove him. But for the first time in his life, such adulation did not bolster him. He knew that it should, yet for some reason that he did not know or dare not seek. It did not.
"Now to go through our gear," Berthold said. "Kaito, take the east side. Tethys, take the west. Hippolyta, the north. Regal the south. Hero takes the centre."
"And what you will you do," Regal snapped
"Search the dead. Go through that they tried to take from us" Berthold snapped
Search the dead. He said such detachment and coldness. In a way that did not seem befitting of an honourable warrior. It was certainly not befitting of a hero. Turning his mind away from such matters, Hero began to assess the stash that lay in the depths of the Cornucopia, going through each bag one at a time. Whilst sorting through the supplies his thoughts turned once again to the boy that he had killed. He had been one of two twelve-year-olds reaped this year. The poor lad had to have been terrified. He must have thought that he almost made it out, with some precious supplies no less. Only for a career - for him to strike a defenceless soul down. What heroism lay in slaying a defenceless twelve-year-old? In destroying hope? The way Berthold had complimented him. A certain sense of relief washed over Hero, at that moment. Berthold had not seen how he had frozen, letting the boy from Five escape into the depths of the arena. Though whatever relief he had did little to allay the disgust that Hero had felt towards Berthold's comment. Part of him was even disgusted at his relief. He was unsure how he could do what he had done to the boy Louis again, though he would have to. He would have to if any chance of returning home.
Though did he deserve to?
Of course, you do.
If the cost of his victory were more lives slain by his hand
Your whole life has been building towards this.
Taking a life was not something he could do again.
But winning the games is your destiny.
Living up to his namesake was his destiny
Heroes win the Hunger Games.
People like Berthold certainly aren't heroes. But Berthold may not win the games.
Hero and the other careers began to group now that the initial fight at the Cornucopia had concluded.
"Are you alright?" Hero asked Kaito, noticing the blood dribbling down his leg.
"Just flesh wound," Kaito replied nonchalantly
"Well, still get it patched up and rest. You don't want it to get infected"
"Shall we go hunting tonight?" Tethys asked
"We should wait until tomorrow, regain our strength then attack at our full power. Kaito is injured after all," Hero replied.
"It would be wise not to let them get too far from us, Kaito will have to try his luck tomorrow," Regal said, backing up Tethys
"Reckless and over-eagerness is lethal, Regal" Hippolyta interjected
"Hero has a good point, they will still be waiting for us, come tomorrow." Kaito said, "What do you reckon Ber?"
Berthold grimaced at the shortening of his name. "I'm with Hero," he said. "We wait. See who has fallen come nightfall. Then plan our next targets from there."
"I'll get a fire going." Hero said
Soon nightfall descended. A pot stew was cooking over the fire, a better meal than nearly everyone else in the arena would have. A better meal than most of the tributes may have back home if the half-starved state of Louis was anything to go by.
Louis. There he was again wriggling into his mind along with all the questions that came with him. Questions that Hero was not prepared to answer.
Not yet anyway.
The anthem sounded through the arena revealing the fallen tributes for the first day: the girl from Three, both from Six, the girl from Seven, the boy from Eight, the girl from Nine, the boy from Ten, both Twelves.
Hero recalled all their names: Jania Yukia, Skoda Dasher, Miles Road, Ivy Ackers, Louis Denim, Peyton Maize, Brandon Dowlson, Everest Glade and Char Duster. Hero had always had a knack for remembering names; he had always deemed it to be a good talent to have but upon recalling the names of the fallen, he began to wonder if that was true.
9 had fallen. 15 remained. 14 left to fall.
The next day comes and with it dread, reflected in the looming and angry grey clouds that covered the sky—an omen.
The others did seem too concerned with the day's plans. Kaito was as laid back as ever and his district partner Tethys was just eager. Hippolyta was holding up her usual cold and icy self. Berthold was humourless and serious. Regal was as bloodthirsty as she had been since day one. The same could not be said for Hero, Eight still lingered in his mind. Everything up to that moment - no - it was ever slightly before that. The moment the chaos and brutality of the bloodbath had been unleashed - that was then doubt crept in for the first time. It was perhaps the first dose of reality he had got in all his life so far.
Do others know?
They seem to be acting as their usual selves. But surely….
What if they plan on backstabbing him on the hunt? That would be honourable or noble or heroic. But were these people, heroes, at all? They must. They were like him. They liked him, and heroes always supported other heroes.
But…
But nothing
"What's the plan?" Hippolyta asked
"Split into pairs, two pairs on the hunt, two stay guard." Berthold declared.
"So who stays and gets to have fun," Regal said.
"I think Kaito should stay at camp, his leg wound is still causing him trouble," Hero suggested
"Does Kaito think that?"
"Kaito does think that actually. Thank Hero for giving me an excuse, didn't particularly feel like going out running today".
Hero did not understand how Kaito could be so laidback. Did he not realise where he was? The things had done, that they all had done.
"Fine then, but you're not staying with Hero. As much as I'd hate to admit you're probably the best fighter of all of us. I'd like to have you by my side on the hunt" Berthold proclaimed.
He knows, Hero thought.
For a moment, Hero considered protesting but ultimately decided against it. He couldn't risk Berthold and other careers turning against him. He couldn't handle it. Ultimately, it was decided that he and Berthold would form one hunting team, Regal and Tethys on the other, whilst Kaito and Hippolyta remained the guard of the bounty of the Cornucopia's supplies. They headed out in opposite directions.
"The arena is open, so we should see our prey from far off," Berthold said.
That goes for other tributes and their ability to see us.
Hero and Berthold crossed many plateaus and bridges but came not even the distant shadow of anyone else. Not all the plateaus were exactly barren slabs of rock, some dead twiggy remnants of bushes, with few leaves clinging to some of them, others had a coral-like substance encasing their edges.
"Perhaps we should try another direction" Hero said
"No, we must be close"
"But we can't keep running hoping that we cross paths with someone. Surely they would have found some sort of cover, the chasms perhaps. They wouldn't stay out in the open, where they could be spotted," Hero said. As much as Hero would have liked words to be speaking purely of strategy, he couldn't ignore the fact he hoped that they didn't encounter anyone else. He would rather return with no more blood on his hands. Though he didn't like that he couldn't ignore it. He much preferred the certainty he had before entering the games returned to him. That was not the possibility though, the moment his certainty had escaped was the moment he had lost it forever.
"And have you seen a way down into chasms? No one could survive just flinging themselves into them" Berthold snarled
"No, I have not.."
"Then we shall continue across this rocky waste," Berthold interjected.
Their search continued. Hero was fairly sure that he must be way into chasma and that the arena was more than just an expanse of nothingness. Soon enough, to Hero's dismay, Berthold's hold was proven to be right. In the distance, he spotted a figure - their soon-to-be target. Hero waited for Berthold to spot the distant tribute, he did hold until that distant hope that he was the only one to have spotted the tribute but Hero knew it was just that.
"We've got one!"
"Finally, a bit of excitement" Hero replied, hoping he came across as eager as Berthold was.
"We approach swiftly and quietly."
As the pair began their approach, Hero noted that the tribute did not move, they seemed completely unaware that two careers were closing in on them. Hero wondered why they were just waiting out in the open, most likely they were exhausted from hours of running and searching for cover or food or water. They were probably taking a moment to rest and found themselves with no choice but to regain their energy out in the open.
Without thinking, Hero stepped on the dead bushes that littered the plateau that he was currently on - intentionally. Their would-be victim shot up and started running. Berthold grunted and anger and started to pursue. Hero followed suit. He had to have known it was him that alerted their target. But he knew it was intentional. Surely not. Surely the possibility wouldn't have entered his mind. To him must have been impossible to think that anyone would take action to have another tribute. Surely. Hero's earlier actions, however, he attempts to try and divert their path. Berthold must have he thinking tactfully though. Berthold suspects nothing. Nothing.
He suspects nothing.
The chase continued.
"Continue right behind him, I'll try to cut him off" Berthold yelled
There must be something he can do to-
Hero stopped the thought right there. Just focus on the chase, he told himself.
Soon, Hero found himself looking in the direction in which Berthold was running. His next action came almost naturally to him. He threw his spear, making seem like it come from Berthold's direction, hoping it would make their pursuee hastily change direction and sure enough it did. The other tribute suddenly darted down another path, away from Berthold's grasp. Hero then slowed down feigning that running out of energy and couldn't continue the chase, the deception grating on him.
"What the fuck was that Hero?!" Berthold yelled
"I thought that was going change his path guess I was wrong," Hero said between breaths
"They've gotten away now and it could be days before we track him down again. What happened to your perfect aim"
"Guess the real thing is a bit different."
If Berthold wasn't aware of Hero's doubt and hesitation before, he was all likelihood now and it was something he would most likely convey to others. There was still the possibility that, however, Berthold did just think it was a mistake, but one that was becoming increasingly less likely.
A cannon sounded.
"At least, the girls had more success than we did," Berthold said, notably turning to look at me. "We shall head back, but you're going out again tomorrow and you'd better hope that you'll get a kill".
That confirms it then.
They returned to the camp. Berthold relayed the events of their hunt to others. They were turning on him. He knew it. They are aware of it all the doubt, the hesitation, the weakness. But protecting someone defenceless was what Hero would do. He hoped that they would understand that, especially District Two, after all, they prided themselves mostly on their honour and nobility - a hero's traits. His traits. There are no such things to be found chasing down someone who couldn't fight back. There was no heroism to be found in hunting down the weak. That meant there was no heroism to finding him either. He had done the same thing back at the bloodbath when had speared Denim. Hero was at a loss for what to do, he couldn't pull the same trick again. He was sure that his hunting partner would turn on him if he did but letting them kill some innocent soul was not an option either.
"Well, at least we were successful on our hunt. We tracked 'em down and skewered them. Did now that we were there until our blades in their face." Tethys said
"So which one got the kill?" Kaito asked
"We both left our mark on 'em but it was me that landed the killing blow!"
"You did not!" Regal interjected "The kill was mine, my third. Which puts me as one with most. You got of catching up to do Berthold, hope you get with someone more reliable next time"
Someone more reliable. Regal's words echoed through his mind. Even district partners had begun to doubt him. They were turning against him and saw him as someone lesser. Gone were the praises they had for before the games.
You not thrown the spear as you did
It was the right thing to do.
You should have let Berthold chase him down and skewer him
That would have been wrong.
Better yet, you have thrown a spear kill them whilst they running
That wouldn't be heroic
Hero dreaded what the next day would bring. He would have to kill again to be that outer of one of his current allies.
Next hunt to do
The next dawned and the sky above was as ominous looking as it had been the day before. Hero knew that he would have to go on the hunt again, recalling Berthold's words the day before. Would his partner be Berthold again or someone else? Hero was unsure which would prefer. What he would prefer would be to just stay at camp and pray that no one strayed too close.
He noted that others had clustered together. Surely talking about him, talking about what he had done. He walked over to the others. "So, who am I going out with," he said, hoping that his reminder would allay the doubts that they had.
"Me again", Berthold declared "Hippolyta and Kaito, are going out hunt, leaving Tethys and Regal to stay camp"
Berthold again. He had the best idea of Hero's action on the prior, there would be little hope to try and convince him that it was all just an accident, a mistake.
But it wasn't, was it?
Yes it was, just a temporary lapse in judgement
It wasn't.
But it was
It wasn't. He had done what was right.
"We'll be going after Five," Berthold said
"Why Five?" Hero asked
"Because she is just like the boy you killed in a bloodbath. Killing her will prove that you haven't gone soft"
With Berthold's words any hope that Hero had disappeared. Berthold was fully aware of his actions and had a good idea of what was going on inside is breaking their mind.
His heart and mind full of dread, Hero heads out with Berthold. There is no one word spoken between them on their journey, but rare glances were all they shared. Questions rattled around in Hero's mind. Did Berthold have any idea as to where Terra was? What if they crossed paths with someone else? What would Berthold do? What would he do? The best hope was that they encountered no one so that he didn't have to answer that last one. Though hope had seemed rather futile lately, it was one of few things he had
Hero spotted someone in the distance. Berthold in all likelihood did too. Hero hoped that he didn't, that it was Terra.
Their hunt continued.
"Do you see that, Hero," Berthold said pointing straight ahead
"Yes," Hero muttered in response.
"That must be her"
What was Hero to do?
Let Berthold kill her
He wouldn't allow that to happen
Do it yourself then
No. It's not right. It's not heroic.
It is the only way
It is not.
They closed in. Terra was seemingly unaware of their presence.
Closer. Closer. Closer.
He had to do something. He had to do something. He had to do something.
It all happened so quickly. Berthold had just begun to strike when Hero blocked it with his shield. He saw Berthold's face, it was mired in surprise and fury. A quick look at the girl from Five revealed that was similarly shocked but in place of fury, there was fear. Hero then lunged blade into Berthold's leg, causing him to fall to the ground in pain. Hero then grabbed Five's arm and began to run. He felt her fighting against his grasp.
"Trust me, I'm going to hurt you. I'm going to protect you." Hero said
"Why?" she asked
"Because it's right."