Chapter Eight.

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Avena Raiden
District Nine, 14 Years Old

"I'm bored."

Mid-swing, Aedan turned his head, relaxing his shoulders and letting his arm drop to his side. He shrugged, nodded, and placed the sword back on the rack. He patted the dummy on its back, murmuring inaudibly to himself. The soft skills, like knot tying and climbing, seemed more appealing, and she shivered at the thought of feeling the cold metal of a knife in her hands.

"What should we do next?" Avena asked, following closely behind Aedan. "The weapons scare me a little."

"We can climb," Aedan replied, pointing to the rock climbing wall, and Avena eagerly nodded. It was as if he read her mind, as if they were meant to be. "That's not scary."

The climbing station was unoccupied, and although she was scared of climbing, of falling and hurting herself, she wanted to do it because Aedan suggested it. She clung to his side and as they walked through the crowd of tributes, overwhelmed by the larger, muscular boys, and by the older, pretty girls.

Avena was one of the youngest tributes there. She knew she was already at a disadvantage. It all terrified her – the other tributes, the weapons, the Games – but she considered this normal, all things considered. Aedan, at least temporarily, alleviated that fear, that sense of uncertainty.

They approached the climbing station and two Capitol trainers stepped forward, offering Aedan a harness and climbing rope, but he shook his head and stepped up to the wall. Rocks were sporadically placed along the wall that stretched to the ceiling, and Aedan looked upwards, gripping his fingers around a rock that was at his eye-level. Aedan lifted his leg, placing it on a lower rock, and boosted himself up, slowly stretching from rock-to-rock, his legs dangling.

As he got higher, Avena started to panic, the palms of her hands moistening and her legs faintly shaking. Aedan reached for a higher rock, but his fingers barely missed the grip, and he fell forward, his face smacking into the wall. He scrambled to grab onto another rock as he dangled in the air, his legs kicking underneath him to find a spot to latch onto.

Avena let out a squeal, covering her face with her hands. The Capitol trainers rushed to stand underneath Aedan, but to their surprise, he didn't fall, and instead, kept climbing. He reached the top, and he hoisted himself on the ledge, where the ceiling meets the wall. He looked down at Avena, at the other tributes, and Avena pouted.

She wanted to be up there. With him. Away from the piercing sound of metal clashing with metal, of the grunts and shouts as tributes hacked away at dummies, of the chatter as tributes talked and formed alliances. It all overwhelmed her.

"That was a close one!" Avena shouted with a giddy smile on her face, waving at Aedan. "Don't hurt yourself on the way down!"

Aedan turned around, lowering his legs and finding rocks to balance on, and slowly continued down the wall. He made it look effortless as he briskly lowered his body, digging his feet and fingers into the rocks, and within a few minutes, his feet were implanted into the mat below. He walked over to Avena, a proud grin on his face, and raised his hand in the air. He bent down, and Avena high-fived him, giggling.

"Mind if I join you?"

Avena was startled by the sound of a female's voice. She retracted her hand from Aedan's, and she turned around to see the girl from District Eight standing behind them. Aedan stepped forward, but Avena territorially stood her ground, staring at Denali with pure contempt in her eyes.

Please say no.

"Sure," Aedan said, stepping to the side, letting the girl stand in between them, and Avena stared at Aedan, biting down on her lip. "What's your name?"

"Denali. Born and raised in District Eight," Denali replied, and Avena scowled. "And you're from Nine, right? I remember you from the reaping recaps. Nine looks beautiful this time of the year."

"You should see it in the winter. The snow-capped grain elevators are breathtaking," Aedan replied with his attempt at a joke, and Avena winched as his words pierced her tender heart. Normally, Avena would have laughed, but she was too distracted by Denali intruding on their training time.

Denali looked down at Avena, offering her a friendly smile, but Avena dismissed it, crossing her arms over her chest. "What's your name?"

"Our alliance is full," she mumbled. She knew Aedan wouldn't object; it was hard enough for Avena to wiggle her way into allying with him, and Avena didn't think Aedan would feel comfortable having another ally. Aedan looked at her, shocked, and Denali took a step back, standing up straight. Denali seemed nonchalant, unbothered by her failed attempt to form an alliance. "It was nice meeting you."

"You too," Denali replied, bumping shoulders with Aedan and Avena as she passed right through them. Avena could hear her laughing as she walked away, and Avena turned around, approaching the rock climbing wall. Avena acted as if nothing had just happened.

"Catch me if I fall, okay?" Avena said, the choleric tone in her voice dissipating. She faced the wall and gripped her fingers around one of the rocks. "I bet I can go as high as you."

Aedan was visibly in shock, but Avena didn't care. Aedan was her District partner. He was her ally. Avena didn't want to get to know anyone else, for Aedan to get to know anyone else. Besides, from the second Denali introduced herself, Avena didn't trust her or her intentions. Avena was too smart, too mature, to be fooled by someone like that. She was much happier alone with him and she figured he felt the same.

Avena hoisted herself upwards along the rock climbing wall, giddily laughing as she looked down at Aedan. Really, she was only half-way up the wall, but it was high enough for her to see everyone, and she peered down at the other tributes scattered around the training center, spotting Denali talking to the male from District Seven. As she looked out at everyone, she felt empowered. She didn't feel so small anymore.

She felt like she was on top of the world.

Donegan Ward
District Ten, 17 Years Old

Donegan rummaged through the books on the metal bookcase, leaning them forward to get a glimpse of their cover and title, and although he was interested in the history of Panem, the training center didn't seem like an appropriate time to read leisurely. Instead, he pulled out a survival guide with images of various plants, berries, and terrains on the cover.

While the other tributes learned how to wield a sword, Donegan chose to spend his time brushing up on his survival skills; in the arena, tributes overestimated their ability to survive, and Donegan joked that not even a spear could save the Careers from eating a poisonous berry.

Donegan flipped through the book, skimming each page, attempting to retain as much information as possible. He came across one page, titled 'Hypothermia,' and he traced the string of words on the page with his fingers, nodding his head as he read about how the body's temperature can drop drastically in freezing temperatures and how it can be fatal. He experienced cold, bitter nights in District Ten during the winter, so he was accustomed to the feeling of a frost-bitten nose and numb fingers.

Donegan was confident in his versatile skill set. It was nearly impossible to fully prepare himself for the arena, since there was no pattern the Gamemakers followed for what the arenas were each year, but Donegan felt confident that he was prepared for any terrain, environment, or setting. The sound of footsteps approaching didn't distract Donegan, and he turned the page of the book, reading about hyperthermia.

"Hi, Donegan."

Donegan sighed as Rhea approached him.

Rhea confused him. She annoyed him, too. The fact that she was so untouched by tragedy, so unaware of her surroundings, so sheltered and naive. She lived in her own world, in a different Panem, than he did. His reality, his everlasting legacy, was being known as the brother of a rebel. Donegan saw his parents' house go up in flames with his own eyes. Rhea was unscathed, living a perfect, delusional life. Their mentors, Naima and Sable, pleaded for Donegan to be nice to his District Partner, for him to sympathize with her and her upbringing, but he saw no reason to pretend.

"Hi, Rhea."

"Hi Donegan. It's been a busy first day," she said, tugging on the sleeves of her training outfit. "A busy, overwhelming first day."

"That's putting it lightly," Donegan replied. "What have you been up to?"

"I want to try everything at least once," Rhea replied, shrugging her shoulders. "It hasn't been going well, but at least I'm trying."

Donegan wasn't sure if there was any hope for Rhea, if there was anything she could do to increase her chances of survival. Rhea attempted to cram what Careers spent six years of their lives learning into the three days they had in the training center, from handling a knife to learning how to start a fire, but Donegan didn't think it would make any difference for her.

"I was wondering if…," she began, trailing off. "If… if I could join you for the rest of training."

"No," Donegan said, his reply coming out almost too quickly. No, no, no.

"Please."

"I…," he said, retracting his words, feeling flushed in the face as he thought of Rhea's family, of their mentors. He didn't feel bad for her. He wasn't sure what he felt towards her, but it was certainly not sympathy. Perhaps it was pity. "I'm sorry, Rhea…"

"I know nothing," Rhea whispered, her lip trembling, a single tear running down her cheek. Donegan gulped, torn between unleashing his frustration and screaming at her or swallowing his words and being nice, like his mentors wanted. Donegan wasn't the type to explode on someone, but Rhea's sheer ignorance was getting under his skin. "I have no one."

"That's not my fault," Donegan snapped. "Blame your parents. This is their fault."

"Donegan, please," she mumbled. "We don't have to be partners in the arena."

"We are partners, whether I like it or not," Donegen replied, the tone in his voice placating. "You mean allies. I don't want to be allies."

"Okay."

"Okay," Donegan said with a deep sigh. Donegan looked around the training center, and instead of causing a commotion, he reassured himself he would only train with her for a few minutes, that they weren't going to become allies. That she wouldn't become a liability. "Come with me."

Rhea trailed behind Donegan as he led them to a different part of the training center. He kept his head down, avoiding eye-contact with any of the tributes he passed, embarrassed to be seen with Rhea. Rumors about Rhea quickly spread among the mentors, and Donegan was sure that it made its way to the tributes. He didn't want to be seen with her, but yet, there he was, sitting at a table with her, explaining why a certain plant is edible and why a different one can cause severe nausea. It reminded him of his time in District Ten at the ranch, teaching the dos-and-don'ts of living in the wilderness to the clueless Capitol citizens.

Donegan caught himself almost feeling bad for Rhea.

Donegan sat back in the chair and watched Rhea sift through the plant identification book. She read each word carefully, examining the pictures, her eyebrow furrowed as she tried to process all of this new information.

He still couldn't comprehend any of it. Rhea's parents were so blind, so delusional, to the possibility of Rhea being reaped, and believed that sheltering her from the truth would somehow help her. In reality, it only made her chances at survival worse. Donegan knew she was bound to die and he didn't plan on risking his life to protect Rhea.

She's not my responsibility.

Donegan's only responsibility, his only obligation, was himself. The Hunger Games were an opportunity for him, and he wasn't going to let Rhea – or anyone else, for that matter – ruin that for him. He was going to win and make a name for himself. Donegan wasn't going to live in the shadow of his brother anymore. People wouldn't know him for the terrible things his brother did, for the damage and suffering he nearly caused.

This was his chance at a new life.

For him to start anew.

Nereida Beck
District Four, 18 Years Old

"Nereida!"

Nereida knew who it was simply by the sound of her grating voice. Nereida ignored Georgia, focusing on the task at hand, and threw the knife, watching it cut through the air, the blade impaling the dummy in the neck. She picked up another knife, and as the sound of Georgia's footsteps got closer, she placed it back down and turned around to face Georgia. To her surprise, it was only Georgia and the pair from District One. It was a relief that Caspian wasn't with them – having to wake up and eat breakfast across from them was more than enough for her – but she also noted Renour's absence.

In fact, she hadn't seen him around the training center much since that morning, and she could relate if he was avoiding his District partner; Nereida strategically moved from station-to-station if Caspian got too close.

"Nereida, my dear ally."

"Ally?" Nereida questioned. She wasn't offended by Georgia assuming the role of leader and approaching District One first – if anything, she found it telling. She wondered if Georgia's strategy was to divide and conquer, to familiarize herself with each tribute individually, rather than as a collective group. In a way, Nereida respected Georgia for it, and besides, Nereida wasn't proactive in meeting her assumed allies, either.

"Are we not allies?"

"Depends," Nereida replied. "Can I trust you?"

"Can we trust you?" Georgia retorted, visibly irritated by Nereida's question.

From across the training center, Caspian spotted the Career congregation and strolled towards them. All of her allies surrounded her, chatting among themselves, distracting her as she was trying to concentrate on training. On why she was really there.

"Hi ladies," Caspian said, wrapping his arm around Georgia's neck. She tensed up and jabbed her hand into his side, and he released his grip and took a step back. "Feisty, huh?"

"Get your filthy hands off of me," Georgia snapped.

"Hi, Caspian," Cleo said, smiling. "Nice of you to finally join us."

"What have I missed?" Caspian asked, stepping away from Georgia and moving next to Cleo.

"Absolutely nothing," Georgia answered, disinterested. She rolled her eyes as she listened to Caspian and Cleo's side conversation, as Caspian complimented Cleo, asking how someone so trained could maintain her petite, nimble figure. "I'm done here. It's time to go and bother Renour."

Georgia grabbed Drachma by the shirt, pulling him with her as she walked away, leaving Nereida with Cleo and Caspian. She stood there, listening to the two of them chit-chat, watching Cleo run her fingers along his arms, leaning in as they spoke. Nereida grumbled as Caspian basked in Cleo's attention. She was off-put by Caspian's hedonism – his flippant, nonchalant attitude, the fact he couldn't commit to one intimate relationship at a time in District Four. She interpreted it as an inability to be reliable. To be trusted.

"I almost forgot you were there, Nereida! You're so quiet!" Cleo exclaimed, playing with a few strands of her hair, and Nereida perked up. "Are we bothering you?"

Yes.

"No," Nereida replied. "I would like to get back to training, though. You both should do the same."

"You're right," Caspian said, nodding. "I'll go wherever you go, Cleo."

"I want you to see what I can do with a bow," Cleo said, winking, and Nereida shuddered. She pointed towards the archery station. "I'll meet you there in a sec. I want to talk to Nereida first. Girl talk."

Caspian shrugged and walked away. Nereida angled her head and raised an eyebrow as Cleo got closer to her, looking around them, making sure no one was in their vicinity.

"So, let's cut to the chase. Georgia," Cleo whispered. "She's a problem."

Nereida nodded. She was a problem, and Nereida wasn't quite sure what the solution was.

"For the time being, just ignore her. Let her think she's the leader," Cleo whispered, reaching over Nereida for two of the knives. Nereida looked at Cleo as her face was only a few inches away from her own, and Cleo winked. "It's more fun that way."

"Fun?" Nereida whispered back. Nereida wasn't interested in having fun. She didn't volunteer for the Hunger Games to play mind games with her allies.

"We'll entertain her charade, let her think she controls us," Cleo replied with a light chuckle, her voice at normal volume, and inspected the knife in her hand. "We'll figure it out along the way."

Cleo could tell Nereida wasn't convinced by her facial expression.

"Just sit back and enjoy the show, Nereida."

Is that all the Games are to her? A show?

Nereida nodded again, and Cleo stepped back and aimed her knife, holding her arm out in front of her and closing her right eye. She wound up her arm, and with a swift flick of the wrist, the knife whirled through the air, impaling the dummy's stomach.

"Ugh. These knives are too flimsy," Cleo groaned, tossing the other knife onto the table. "You'd expect the Capitol to not be so stingy."

Cleo spun on her heels, her blonde hair in a whirlwind, and although Nereida was suspicious of her, there was something redeeming about Cleo. Something that she didn't see in Georgia or Caspian. Nereida couldn't quite figure out what her angle was, whether she was truly a damsel-in-distress or if there was more to her. She wanted there to be more to her, for her to be smarter, more competent, than that. She needed at least one ally to depend on in her alliance, and she already crossed Georgia and Caspian off that list.

Nereida wasn't one to typically get involved in petty squabbles, but it seemed she had no choice. Tension was already boiling and Nereida figured it would only escalate from there, and although she didn't want to have to pick a side, she realized that by abstaining, she was making herself a target. At that moment, aligning with Cleo seemed like the sensible option.

Alliances are temporary, she reminded herself. I can abandon them whenever I want to.

Nereida was prepared for that time to come sooner than she originally expected. Whether it would happen in the Capitol or in the arena, Nereida was prepared for that fallout. The cracks were already exposed in the alliance and Nereida knew better than to think it would last long. She was ready to, when the time came, put herself first.

There was only one victor, after all, and it would be her.

Nereida was sure of it.

Author's Note:

Hi, hi. Hi, hi, hi. Hi.

That wraps up Training Day One. Next up is – you guessed it – Training Day Two: Part One. I'll frequently update the blog to reflect alliances.

What did you think of these three tributes?

Thank you all for the reviews :) I really appreciate them all. I know how taxing reading and reviewing can be (from personal experience… I'm sorry y'all…), so thank you!