Luxora Cheviot, 18, District One
Representing Rishona Emeril, Victor of the Eighth Hunger Games
After the Fifth Games, the Capitol finally realized they needed to do something to help their Victors handle the trauma they were forced to endure. They did so the only way they knew how: money. Rishona Emeril, One's first Victor, quickly realized that she could make use of that money to elevate her family's status, bringing them from the middle-class of One all the way to its upper echelons. She had already been working with a personal trainer, so they began to… tweak their sessions to include more combat-related things. Little did Rishona know that her decision to train and volunteer would be the cause of the biggest innovation in the Games since their inception.
On any given day, hundreds of students in One's Emeril Academy would pass through the hallway connecting the two main buildings, usually multiple times each. Dubbed the Hall of Victors, portraits of those who had passed through its halls before their Victory were hung in ornate frames, progressing chronologically from the older of the main buildings to the newer one. A small plaque underneath each frame was engraved with the Victor's name, the year in which they won, and then, in a smaller font underneath, the trainer with whom they worked in their youth.
Of course, most of One's Victors had trained there for at least some time, as the top trainees from every Academy in One gathered together at Emeril Academy for final evaluations, hence why most of One's citizens colloquially referred to Emeril as Main or Central. And especially given the number of portraits hanging on the wall, Luxora Cheviot was proud to say that she could find her last name on nearly every plaque.
Walking down the hallway every day, passing from one building to another and back again, Luxora felt her chest puff up, carried herself just a hair more haughtily. She knew her classmates knew who she was and who her family was; after all, nearly every Victor on the walls had been trained by a Cheviot, going all the way back to Rishona Emeril. Luxora was proud of her status, proud of her family, and even more proud of the fact that she'd be the first to have her name in the larger print.
It was about time that a Cheviot took her rightful place among the Victors.
Today, however, Luxora was not particularly excited to be passing through the Hall of Victors. The rest of the trainees were being sent home early to watch a mandatory broadcast with their families, President Garnet Emerald's first address. Luxora was trying to stay optimistic, but she couldn't shake the pit forming in her stomach; with all the inopportune changes that had bombarded Panem since the Fifth Quell, mostly spearheaded by Garnet, she had a feeling she wasn't going to like whatever he was about to say.
And it wasn't just changes in Panem that Luxora had noticed; she also was picking up on things happening back home. Students in younger classes at Emeril had started taking broader courses than their older counterparts, beginning to learn about logic, history, math, writing, and engineering on top of their normal weapons coursework. Things at Emeril were changing, and Luxora didn't like it.
Why would anyone want to waste their time working towards the Events when the glory of the Games was right there!
As the child of two of Emeril Academy's trainers, Luxora lived in a small neighborhood a few streets over from the Academy, so her walk home was, thankfully, rather short. She suspected that a longer walk could get lonely – over her time in training, Luxora had pushed aside any remnants of a desire for friends so that she could focus on her training – but a shorter walk would be too close to the Academy, so she was more than content with where she lived. She pushed open the door to her home, finding it empty, as she so often did. She went into the living room and sat on the pristine white couch, sliding off her shoes and socks and digging her toes into the plush, unblemished white carpet. Her house had never felt warm, but something about its atmosphere felt particularly cold today, as if chilled by an ominous wind. An involuntary shiver left her body, as Luxora was overwhelmed by the sense that life as she knew it was about to change.
And she was not particularly thrilled about that prospect.
Luxora didn't bother turning on her television; she knew it automatically would once Garnet's address began. So instead, she just sat, frustrated that she was wasting time she could be using to train, waiting for something to happen – the crackle of static, perhaps, or the creak of an opening door. A small part of her couldn't help but hope for the latter, but she was unsurprised when the former happened first. The television blared to life, the Capitol's seal displayed in gold on a field of the government's official shade of purple, rippling as if it was a flag. As the anthem played, the picture faded, revealing President Garnet Emerald, standing on the balcony of the President's Mansion. Luxora couldn't help but scoff at the beads of sweat she saw forming on his forehead; since when did a president get anywhere by showing their nerves? Garnet was an embarrassment at best.
"Citizens of Panem," he began, quieting the crowd of politely applauding Capitolites as he stepped up to the podium. "It has been a long and difficult month for all of us, beginning with the death of my mother, President Ruby Emerald, and extending to the rebel attacks that have terrorized our country. Every person in our great nation, from the soldiers of Thirteen to the factory workers of Three, has felt the ripple effects of the seismic shifts that have been forced upon us. Know that we in the Capitol are working tirelessly with the authorities in all thirteen districts to find those perpetrators who took lives and destroyed property during this month's violence. I extend my deepest condolences to those who have lost friends and loved ones in this attack; I am hurting with you and I am mourning alongside you."
As much as she hated to admit it, Luxora couldn't argue with Garnet on that one. Even here in One, perhaps the most loyal district to the Capitol, there had been rebel attacks targeting Academies all over the district. At first, she hadn't understood why the rebels were targeting places chock full of people trained to kill. But as the footage aired on the news in the aftermath of the attacks, Luxora understood: they wanted to cause as much damage as they could to the core institutions of One.
Luxora despised the rebels and everything they stood for. What did they think they had to gain? Academies were integral to the culture of One; any attack on them would only harm the attackers and their families, and the Academies would be stronger for it.
"With the death of President Emerald," the on-screen Garnet continued, "we have an opportunity to move the country forward into a new era, towards a brighter future. It is in that spirit and in her memory that I announce, effective immediately, a formal end to the Hunger Games."
Luxora had relaxed into the couch, but at that sentence, she bolted right up. She could not have heard Garnet correctly, could she? There was no way that the Games were over, ending not even with a bang but with the softest possible whimper. But no, as Garnet kept talking, Luxora realized that the bastard was deathly serious.
"I understand this may come as a shock to some of you, as the Hunger Games are so ingrained in our nation's culture. But a tree whose roots are destroyed cannot dream of flowering; if we want any hope of building the country we want, we cannot cripple ourselves by endangering our future and sacrificing our children."
Luxora knew that there was more to Garnet's speech, more bullshit pleasantries that he'd spew out from that all-too-pretty face. But she didn't care. She couldn't care. With just one simple sentence that fell from his lips, Luxora's dreams had evaporated, like dew on a hot summer's day. So many years of training, all of the hard work and dedication and blood and sweat and tears, just for some pompous asshole to waltz up to a podium and declare them null and void.
She'd worked so hard, for so much of her life, for a goal that had turned to ash before her eyes. Everything she ever thought was important, reduced to nothingness; all the sacrifices she'd made, meaningless. She and her family had devoted years to the Games, building up and cementing One's legacy.
Without the Games, what had her life's work been for?
Romilly Alberra, 17, District Eight
Representing Calico Traille, Victor of the Sixteenth Games
After the Fifteenth Games, tragedy struck as the President, his wife, and their young daughter were murdered, leaving the young Coriolanus Snow orphaned, alone, and in charge of a country. The Games that followed were the most brutal to date, leaving their Victor, Calico Traille, angry at the country that was supposed to protect her. And she turned that anger into an institution that would long outlive her.
"Move, move, move!"
"To the square, everyone to the square!"
"The official broadcast is starting soon!"
Emerging from a run-down building on the side of the road, Romilly Alberra carefully merged into the group of people heading towards the town square. She had a feeling that her parents would be late, if they ended up there at all, as some sort of useless protest against the Capitol. Romilly had no interest in playing along with her parents' follies; from what she'd learned in her history classes, she understood why people might rebel in the Snow era, but everything seemed so much better under Ruby. Why protest against something that was working for you?
Why protest so much that you put your only child in danger of dying in the Arena?
As the mass of bodies flowed into the town square, decorated with its Reaping Day banners, Romilly couldn't help but feel her heart rate quicken. Ever since she was a child, forced onto a Reaping Statute because of her parents' actions, walking into the town square made Romilly's heart beat just a little bit faster. She couldn't help but envy the kids who could walk through the square without fear, without being reminded of the fact that the next time she came to the square, she could be sent to her death. How she envied those children, both the few who lived in Eight and the many who lived outside of it, who could live uninhibited, who were not placed on a Statute for something they didn't even believe in.
She just had to hold strong for two more Reapings, and then she'd be free.
"Hey, Rom!" a familiar voice called from a few yards away. Romilly stood on her tiptoes to find the source of the voice, eventually spotting Giles Burrell in the crowd, a few meters away. Both children of high-ranking rebels, she and Giles had known each other for most of their lives; it was only later that each realized how much the other was fed up with their parent's beliefs. Romilly appreciated having someone to talk to and vent to about the situation, and while Giles was not quite so talkative, she knew that, if he ever needed, Romilly would do the same for him.
Romilly snaked through the crowds until she emerged by Giles' side, "Hi, Giles. How's it going?"
"It's going," Giles replied. "How are you?"
"I'm OK. Same as ever."
"Same as ever," Giles echoed.
"Are your parents coming?"
"Not sure. I think they're still in custody. I haven't seen them at home in a few weeks, not since Paisley turned them in."
There was a time when Romilly was jealous of Giles – his parents' role within the rebels meant that they were under no suspicion of a statute, meaning that he was as safe as he could be, even while Romilly's life was in danger. Not only that, but he would most likely be able to compete in the Events, even though his sister also already had the chance; Statute kids were ineligible for the Events, which meant that only a few kids from Eight even had the opportunity to do so, and Romilly was not one of them.
Then his parents were caught after the Second Events, their perfect cover completely blown. Romilly took Giles under her wing, helping him deal with the pain of the realization that he would soon be on a Statute as well, and the deeper pain he felt when he realized that it was his sister who turned them in, putting Giles and his siblings in danger. But when President Emerald was murdered, all Statute trials were put on hold indefinitely, giving Giles a stay of execution for the time being. And with Garnet coming into power, change seemed to be on the horizon. Romilly could only hope that today's broadcast would bring good news for Giles – and good news for herself as well.
As the last stream of people trickling into the square thinned out, Romilly turned her attention to one of the four massive screens hung from the buildings on the perimeter of the square. Projected on the screens was the Capitol's golden seal, displayed on a field of government purple, rippling as if it was a flag. As much as Romilly approved of the changes that the Capitol had made in the last decade or so – at least in theory, even if they negatively affected her in practice – there was still something ominous about seeing its symbol, unchanged since the end of the Dark Days, looming over the square from all sides.
No matter how much Romilly disagreed with her parents, she couldn't argue with one of their core beliefs: the Capitol would always be watching.
The speakers crackled to life, playing the national anthem; as usual, the citizens of Eight either ignored it or shouted as an attempt to drown it out. But Romilly was surprised that, as the image shifted to be that of Garnet Emerald, the crowd actually quieted down. Perhaps they empathized with how exhausted he looked; it seemed like he'd aged a decade since the end of the Events no more than two months prior. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot, there were hints of grey in his hair, and he was clearly struggling to carry himself like a president. For the first time in years, the person leading Panem almost felt… human.
Romilly wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
"Citizens of Panem," Garnet began, quieting the rowdy Capitolites as he stepped up to the podium. "It has been a long and difficult month for all of us, beginning with the death of my mother, President Ruby Emerald, and extending to the rebel attacks that have terrorized our country. Every person in our great nation, from the soldiers of Thirteen to the factory workers of Three, has felt the ripple effects of the seismic shifts that have been forced upon us. Know that we in the Capitol are working tirelessly with the authorities in all thirteen districts to find those perpetrators who took lives and destroyed property during this month's violence. I extend my deepest condolences to those who have lost friends and loved ones in this attack; I am hurting with you and I am mourning alongside you."
Romilly could only imagine how bad things were in other districts. She knew from eavesdropping on her parents that the rebels they belonged to, mostly based in Eight and Eleven, were responsible for just a moderate fraction of the attacks that they heard about on the news. Of course, they stupidly took credit for most of them, but Romilly couldn't help but wonder who and what had caused the other attacks – and whether the Capitol had found them.
"With the death of President Emerald," the on-screen Garnet continued, "we have an opportunity to move the country forward into a new era, towards a brighter future. It is in that spirit and in her memory that I announce, effective immediately, a formal end to the Hunger Games."
Romilly blinked. An end to the Games? She had a feeling this was what the Capitol was working towards, what with the changes already made to the Games and the addition of the Events. But for it to happen so soon and so suddenly? Romilly couldn't believe this.
This might be the best thing to ever happen to her.
"I understand this may come as a shock to some of you, as the Hunger Games are so ingrained in our nation's culture. But a tree whose roots are destroyed cannot dream of flowering; if we want any hope of building the country we want, we cannot cripple ourselves by endangering our future and sacrificing our children."
As Garnet kept talking, Romilly heard murmurs begin to spread across the square, whispers that, for some reason, sounded discontented. Without waiting for Garnet to finish, she grabbed Giles' hand and ran, snaking through the crowds towards the nearest exit from the square. "Where are you going?" Giles urged.
"I'm getting out of here. I'm scared they're going to riot."
"Why? The Games are over."
"Yes, but they've protested against nearly everything the Capitol has ever done. Why would they stop now?"
"True. Let's get out of here."
The two emerged from the square and rushed down Eight's streets, putting as much distance from the mob behind them that was growing louder by the minute. But for the first time in a long time, Romilly wasn't worried. She could just live in the moment, feel the wind in her hair as she ran, take in the world without fear of leaving it.
Romilly Alberra was free. And what a glorious feeling that was.
Well, happy American Thanksgiving everyone! I know I usually post on Sundays, but I just could not sit on this chapter any longer. Sometimes you just crave feedback, yanno?
A huge thank you to the submitters of these kiddos! Luxora comes courtesy of the mega-collab between optimisms, darthnell, remus98, and Josephm611, which might be the most people I've ever seen work on a single kid. Romilly is the child of itzbirdie (and her first kid at that – I hope I did her justice) and Giles comes courtesy of both me and another submitter… does anyone know where he comes from?
As I mentioned last chapter, I have non-POV slots open if anyone would still like to submit, and I may still be interested in filling a POV hole, so do let me know via PM or Discord DM if you're interested!
We've moved into the teens for Victors now! Any thoughts on where we'll be going next? I'll hopefully see y'all around this time next month!
xoxo, xxxi