Sylvia's work was finished early in the morning. She stepped back and gazed up the tree. The canopy of leaves and branches were thick and healthy, lending them well to be burnt. Just like every other tree in the whole arena.

Sylvia's hands shook with excitement as she took out the box of matches and opened it up. She picked out a match and, taking a deep breath, struck it against the side of the box. She admired the faint glow. So tiny, but so powerful. So deadly.

She dropped it onto the pile. The whole thing was alight within seconds. A wide smile split open her face as she watched the flames trickle up the tree trunk.

Now go do the other piles! The Fire Spirit urged her on impatiently. Now that things were finally picking up, he wasn't keen to simply stand back and watch even when everything wasn't all done. Like what Sylvia was doing.

Now! Come on Sylvia, it's not over yet! Go now!

Sylvia obeyed.

As she sprinted in the direction of the river, following the marks she had made on the trees, the flames spread, the smoke billowed, and a terrified scream cut through the morning air.

Sylvia ignored it.

She only had one goal in mind: go do the other piles. She paid no attention to her surroundings except for what was directly in front of her, not even the cannon that boomed minutes later, signaling her first kill.

She reached the second pile and wasted no time in throwing a lit match onto it as she passed by. She couldn't stop now, not when she was so close!

It was this determination that carried her all the way back to the first pile she made, and light that one up too.

Now, with all the piles lit, she changed her direction and headed for the rocky cliffs that encircled the entire arena. She needed to gain some height, if she was going to see the full extent of what she'd done.

Scrambling up the cliffs was easier said than done, but she still did it. Never mind the fact that she scraped her hands and tore holes through the knees of her trousers and then scraped her knees too, she needed to see. She had to. Desperately. What was the point of putting on a spectacle like this if you couldn't even see it?

She didn't make it all the way to the top. Instead, she came to rest on a large rocky ledge that jutted out from the cliff wall, and decided that that was good enough. She could still see everything, and oh, what a glorious sight it was!

The three piles had grown into huge bonfires, consuming all the trees around them. The cracklings of wood echoed throughout the valley and the heat was immense. Three skyscraper-sized columns of smoke rose up and a steady haze began to drift over everything, covering the land in an inescapable blanket.

The Capitol audience watched on in amazement as the remaining tributes began to run for their lives, some coughing, some sobbing, all scared of being burned to a crisp. Sure, they weren't getting the glorious, bloody battles they were expecting, but still! This was a nice change of pace.

Then the screens switched to Sylvia, and everyone stared at them, wondering what she was going to do now.

Sylvia laughed.

Quietly at first, then it grew into a crescendo of uncharacteristic joy.

She laughed and laughed and laughed; great big bellows that made her chest heave in and out in rapid succession. She laughed so hard that tears began to roll down her cheeks.

Then, she threw her hands into the air and began to scream. Then cheer. Then dance around with a wild, primal lightfootedness. Still screaming, still cheering.

How could she not? The world was on fire! The Fire Spirit was happy as well! It was time to celebrate!

She danced around in circles alongside the Fire Spirit, who did not cheer like she did, but was still clearly very impressed by how things had turned out.

You have done well, child. This filthy world will now be cleansed, alongside those who live in it, partaking in all that filth. Fire. This is how it should be. Fire.

It was the most happy he'd ever been about anything!

When the three bonfires merged into one enormous ball of flame, Sylvia gave a leap of joy.

Down below, however, it was a very different story.

The girls from One and Two had fallen victim to the fire, while their district partners were running, trying to make a desperate escape from the heat licking at their heels.

"Come on!" Gaius shouted, his face damp with sweat and black with soot, "To the cliffs!"

Lord had ditched his weapons and backpack in order to get rid of the extra weight. But he didn't feel any less heavy for it. Every breath he took allowed more and more smoke to invade his lungs. Every step he took drained more of his energy until he could no longer carry on.

He fell to his knees. Gaius turned around and tried to drag him back to his feet. Lord weakly shoved him away.

"Forget it," he choked out, "I'm not gonna make it."

"Bu-"

"Just go, man. Just go and live."

Gaius took one last look at the boy he'd become fast friends with, and turned around and ran away.

He didn't make it very far himself before he too collapsed.

Two cannons rang out, followed swiftly by two more as the girls from Four and Five, having run into each other, came to a mutual agreement to stab one another rather than let the flames get them.

As Sylvia heard the cannons boom, she became aware of her own voice becoming more tired and hoarse. She gave a mighty cough, then let out another cheer. Yes, her voice definitely sounded different. And her throat was tingling too. It felt dry and scratchy.

Then she became aware of the fact that she could no longer breathe properly. Every breath she took seemed like a struggle. She coughed and spluttered, trying to rid herself of whatever was wrong with her.

Then she realised that it was getting harder to see. The smoke covered the false sky, plunging the arena into near-darkness.

Sylvia fell to her knees, vomited what little she'd eaten beforehand, then collapsed onto her stomach.

The remaining tributes were having an even worse time. The boy from Five had been pinned under a burning branch. The pair from Ten ended up getting separated and dying alone and in pain. The boy fell due to smoke inhalation. The girl tripped over a rock and landed in a patch of fire.

But it was Cable who had the worst time if all. Being that he had a massive phobia of fire, he wouldn't stop screaming and crying for his mother to save him. His eyes blurred with his tears and, in his temporary blindness, ended up stumbling into a corner at the bottom of the cliffs, his back against the rock and fire in every other direction. He didn't have the upper-body strength required to climb the cliffs. He was trapped.

Cable could do nothing but wail helplessly as the fire closed in.

When his cannon finally sounded after five agonizing minutes, a rainstorm appeared overhead. As the downpour began extinguishing the raging inferno, the trumpets blared, followed by Claudius's voice declaring an unconscious Sylvia Morris, of District Seven, the Victor.