Chapter 2, 29th March

When she came to the office the next morning, Artemesia had dark rings under her eyes and aching wrists. But the lack of sleep was incidental. She had developed a unique concept for this year. The only thing that stood between her and this idea was Snow.

Artemesia had sent him a message last night to arrange a meeting. Excited, she sipped on her beloved coffee, which was quickly pressed into her hand. An assistant came and held her a note. She dismissed him with a small nod.

Meet me at 11:00 in my office. I hope it's worth it.

Artemesia looked at the clock. In an hour, he awaited her in the presidential palace.

The traffic was not so bad today and it would be enough if she set off in ten minutes. Artemesia pulled the file with the idea and implementation on her handbag. She meticulously looked through them again. If she were to talk to the president, she had to make sure it could not go wrong.

In Snow's office, it smelled of roses. Not so strong that it seemed unpleasant, but more a gentle nuance of the fragrance. On the wall hung a painting with a flower vase. The Snows were really obsessed with that plant.

Artemesia waited half an hour. Slowly, she realized that the delay was only for the balance of power, and she relaxed.

The door opened and a middle-aged man came in.

"Excuse me for the long wait. The previous meeting took longer than expected," Snow said. From his mouth, it sounded not like an apology, but more like him making fun of her. What was the occasion of the meeting?

"You don't have to apologise, sir. You serve the country more than anyone else, there may be a meeting that can take longer", said Artemesia calmly, glad that her voice did not fail. The president sat behind his imposing desk.

"This is mahogany wood. Despite elegant appearance very stable. But I'm sure they didn't come here to talk to me about wood species." Snow licked his lips. The golden hair had been shortened, but otherwise the president looked natural. In the Capitol, he just seemed too strange. Here everyone had been under the knife at least once.

Artemesia pulled out the file and placed it on the desk. Snow took it.

"Are these the plans for the arena?" he asked.

'They don't match what we've seen over the last few years. I thought we should give the games a new touch", Artemesia said, beginning to pray inwardly. Please, please let him be pleased.

Agonizingly slowly, Snow scrolled through the papers. Each page has been closely scrutinized. When he had read the last page, he quickly folded the envelope. Artemesia tried to read some reaction from his face, but Snow left her no chance. The man had acquired a perfect poker face for years.

"The plans are interesting. You were right. Sometimes you need novelties. The arena, what kind of climate do you consider?" asked Snow. To Artemesia's relief he wasn't outraged by the changes; no, he sounded like he was interested. A sign of short-term success.

"I thought of a Mediterranean climate. 25C during the day, at night we lower to 14C. A pleasant climate. Above all we do not want the biggest enemy of the tributes to be the weather, but the others."

Snow handed her the documents. He leaned back.

"Do you know that I was a Gamemaker once?"

Artemesia nodded. Every child knew Snow's story.

The start of his success was the victory of his tribute in the 10th games. Then came a degree with top marks and a job as a game maker. When the previous president died twenty years ago, Snow was elected as the new president by a majority of parliament. Since then, there have been no uprisings in the districts, only peace and stability.

"Then you know why we're hosting the games in the first place." The snake-like smile appeared on his face. Artemesia shrugged.

The obvious answer was punishment, but he would not be satisfied with that.

"We host the games to control the eternal war. We are taking away the rebels' hope that they can throw the country into chaos. The games provide stability," Artemesia said. Snow nodded approvingly.

„A lot of people don't know why we're actually hosting them, but you're right. The games provide stability, although the Capitol seems to be slowly forgetting that. They see it as an annual sporting event. And yet they still cause fear in the districts. Can you tell me why?"

"By showing them that they can't even protect the youngest, even if they try. But they don't do it to protect the children. They are afraid for their children."

Snow got up. Artemesia rose and the chair almost flipped over. She briefly thought of saying something wrong. But the man came to her calmly.

"You understood your job. The games will be unique this year. Concern the stability of the country that will calm the rebels. A good winner, loyal and strong. And now you're getting to work. This arena requires a lot of effort," he said. He pulled a white rose from the vase and attached it to her blazer. She trembled all over her body, but fervently hoped that Snow wouldn't notice.

The scent of fear and death had never been so close.

Blight Clevar, 18, Victor of the previous Games, Train to the Capitol

Blight felt numb. Since the Games ended, he just wanted to find peace.

He grabbed the bottle of wine and filled the next glass with it.

His thoughts were still in this forest, where he killed this four innocent children.

They haunted him in his dreams. The little girl from six with the arrow between her hazel eyes who wanted to scream at him. Why? Why did you let me die?

Everytime she showed up, Blight wanted to yell at her. Look, I didn't want this!

But now, the girl was only a shadow. Dead, like every other tribute from last year's Games. Well, exept of him. And that was something Blight was furious about.

When he asked his mentor Blake, if there would be peace, he just laughed at him.

„Oh, boy," he said, „the true games just begun."

Now, six months and hundreds of empty winebottles later, he finally understood, what Blake meant.

He would be the next one to send innocent children straight into their graves. He would be the one who had to give the sad families a letter from their dead child. And Blight was sure a little part of him would die with them.

Blight threw the glass against the far too expensive picture of some famous artist from the Capitol.

Why had it to be him? Why couldn't it be the smart boy from district 3? Oh, right because Blight killed him just to be the next completely broken victor. He was tired of this shit. He was tired of the Capitol and their stupid games.

All he ever wanted, was to live his life in peace back in district 7.

--

District 1 looked less prettier than Blight thought it would look like. He was told that some people from the Capitol came here to vacation. They should've come to district 7 with its pure nature, not in this town which was made of glass and glitter. The train stopped in the train station.

Honestly, Blight wasn't amused about the fact, that he would meet other victors especially the victors from a career district like 1. They were spoiled and arrogant, but also trained killers, which was why districts 1, 2 and 4 had the most victors.

He heard voices, becoming louder the closer the victors get. The door opened and a woman came in. She was still talking to someone Blight couldn't see.

„Yeah, I know. But aren't you excited to see what the arena looks like this year?", she said.

Then Blight recogniced who was standing in front of him. It was Sapphira Mooner, victor of the 46. Games. Behind her a men came in. His hair was blue and there was something like nest in it. It must be the escort from the Capitol.

Sapphira was still talking about the arena when the men noticed Blight.

„Oh, you must be our newest victor. I'm Fabulous Lorenzo, the escort for district 1. It's a pleasure to meet you." His voice sounded more like a womans one and Blight would have told him that if he didn't knew they would see each other every year.

„Do you guys want to take a seat? It's really lonely here", he asked.

Sapphira rose her eyebrows, something Blight always wanted to be able to do, and looked at him, but then she settled herself on the couch. She was a very pretty woman. Sapphira had long blonde hair like the majority in one and stunning green eyes. They remembered him of the ivy, which was growing around his new house.

Blight didn't like talking to people and that would never change. Fabulous seemed to love it. The man, who said he was as fabulous as his name, talked to Sapphira like he'd never talk again.

„I still think this year's Games are going to take place in a cold surrounding. Maybe they will have ice bears as mutations in there!"

Fabulous took a sip of this tea. He looked at Blight and smiled. „I love ice bears. Have you ever seen one before?"

„No, I haven't. But you can tell me about them", Blight said and Fabulous started talking again.

Blight looked at Sapphira who was as tired of Fabulous as he was.

Oh gosh, this man talked too much. Currently he explained why ice bears should be used far more often in the Games. At least it would be easy to sleep now, Blight tought. He could say he was tired of the long journey and nobody would disagree with him.

Suddenly the train drove into a tunnel. Sapphira got up and walked to the windows.

„We will arrive in the Capitol in less than ten minutes. Get ready, guys."

Next chapter we will get to know the first tributes! I'll do introductions with two tributes per chapter and two reaping chapters with all tributes and mentors. What do you think about this chapter? Let me know!

Love, Athena127