Chapter Twenty One.
w w w. breaktheicehg. blogspot. c o m
Day Seven in the Arena
Snowflakes fell from the sky.
It started out as a light dusting, each speck of snow slowly drifting downwards, landing on tree branches and atop the tributes' heads and faces. The snowflakes created a white blanket across the arena, covering the supplies, the clothes, the blood, leftover from the tributes that were killed.
The snow covered the remnants, the memories, of the deceased.
All that was left was Renour from District Two, Denali from District Eight, Aedan from District Nine, and Avena from District Nine. Soon, three of them would be covered by the snow, too. Their bodies, their backpacks, their weapons, would be covered, concealing them underneath the blanket of white snow. Three of them would soon be a distant memory, another face in the sky, another name of a dead child from the Hunger Games.
One tribute, however, would live to see another day.
Denali was already awake, twiddling her thumbs, staring at her ally. She watched him scrunch his nose as the snowflakes landed on his face, and his eyebrows twitched, followed by his eyes shooting open. He looked up at the sky, rubbed his eyes, and turned to the side, locking eyes with Denali.
"Good morning," Renour mumbled, sitting up in his sleeping bag. "How'd you sleep?"
I didn't, she thought. Denali stayed awake for the most of the night, pacing back and forth, kicking the snow and snapping the branches off of the trees. She listened to herself breathe, thoughts coming and going, and focused on the sound of owls squawking in the distance.
For the first time in what seemed like her entire life, Denali didn't know what to do. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know what to think, to feel. Denali Felder – the up-and-coming District Eight socialite – always had a plan, but, at that moment, she was speechless. Thoughtless. That made Denali panic.
"What happens if we're the final two?" Denali asked abruptly, her voice quiet. Renour started packing up his belongings, leaving the sleeping bag on the ground – he hoped he wouldn't be needing it later that night – and Denali pinned her arms to her side. She felt restless, her fingers twitching, an anxious feeling growing inside of her as heart beat faster.
"I hope it doesn't come to that," Renour replied, and Denali froze, abruptly stopping in the snow. She looked at him, wanting to see the look on his face, but he didn't turn around. "I want to win, Denali."
"So do I."
"We all do," Renour said, shrugging. "Is this it, then?"
Denali didn't want this to be it. She wasn't content with this.
"This isn't it," Denali replied, annoyed at the confusing word game they were playing. "This is not it."
Renour chuckled. The sound of his voice, the flippancy of this response, irritated Denali. She furrowed her eyebrows, and when he looked over his shoulder, she looked him up and down, weighing her options. She wasn't strong enough to kill Renour, nor was she smart enough to out-maneuver him.
The only way she was going to win was for him to die without her playing any role in it. This wasn't another Orion-type situation; there was no way for her to deceive him. He had to die, but she didn't know how. She didn't have faith that Avena could do it, so the only way for Denali to win was for Aedan to kill him.
But, how? Denali thought. She played with the ends of her hair, tugging at it, nearly ripping it out of her scalp. She grit her teeth; her patience, her interest, her ability to pretend with Renour, was wearing thin.
Denali's grasp on Renour was slipping. Her grasp on the Hunger Games. Her grasp on her own mental stability.
On the contrary, this was the most confident, most assured, that Renour felt thus far in the Hunger Games. Renour knew all along that he came first, not Beau or Denali. He struggled to find his footing first, to find his place in the Hunger Games and in Panem, but a newfound passion for change – to create a different life not only for himself, but for others like him – was what he set his mind on.
At one point, it wasn't about what Renour wanted, but now, it was. He was in charge of his future, and with that came a sense of power, but also a sense of uncertainty. Regardless, Renour knew that he had to win to see what came next.
Denali and Renour gripped their weapons and locked eyes.
I'm going to win, Denali thought, offering him her trademark smile. The vapid, superficial smile. Renour is going to die.
Renour wasn't so sure about that, though. He was certain he was going to be the victor of the Hunger Games. He was going to do what he didn't he could, what he didn't think was for him. He was going to win.
"Let's go to the Cornucopia," Renour suggested. "Hopefully Aedan and Avena are waiting for us."
The snow gradually shifted into a thick wall of snow, starting from outside of the arena and moving to the center of it. The sudden change in weather drew the tributes together, the squalls of snow pushing them closer and closer to one another. Renour and Denali made their way to the Cornucopia, followed by Aedan soon after, but Avena hesitated.
Avena dug her boots into the snow, reluctantly walking forwards, knowing that the other three tributes left in the arena would be there, waiting for her. On one hand, she was walking closer to her death; there was still a Career alive, along with her District partner who was capable of murdering. On the other hand, she was walking closer to her future. A future that consisted of her being a victor of the Hunger Games.
When she was reaped, Avena didn't think it could be her. Yet, she beat the odds that were stacked against her and she secured a spot in an alliance, and now in the finale, and that alone made her feel more confident. More prepared. Avena hadn't killed anyone in the arena, unlike the other tributes, but that didn't make her feel disadvantaged. Although it was rare, there were tributes that didn't kill anyone in their Games, yet still won.
Avena could've been the next victor.
Aedan, Renour, and Denali also could've been the next victor, though.
They all knew how that day would end. There would be no tomorrow – not in the arena, at least – for three of them. Only one of them could win, could be crowned victor, could return to their District.
Renour wanted it to be him.
Although Renour was too modest, too inhibited, to admit it, he wanted to be a part of the exact institution he so vehemently opposed and criticized. He wanted to be a victor of the Hunger Games. He wanted to be revered, to be seen as a victor. He wanted to be seen as something else, something bigger, too; he wanted to be an advocate in District Two. He wanted to be admired as a person who made positive, long lasting change in District Two.
Renour was going to win for District Two. Not for the institutions and systems in place that upheld everything that was wrong with District Two – the Mayor, the training academies, the victors. The institutions that corrupted children like Renour. He was going to win for those children, for those who were brainwashed and tricked into thinking that the Hunger Games were normal.
Denali wanted it to be her.
Denali wanted to be revered too, but in a different way. In a selfish way. She wanted people to revere her with jealousy in their eyes. All she wanted was for people to envy how esteemed she was, how worldly and powerful she was. For people to see her on the cover of magazines and on television screens across Panem. For people to idolize her, from her hair to her clothes to her money and power. She wanted to be relevant – more than she already was in District Eight.
There was something more to Denali – an untapped potential is what she called it – that was more far reaching than being a victor of the Hunger Games. Panem was her stage, and her performance was nowhere near finished. Panem was her pedestal, and she was climbing up it inch by inch. Denali was almost the Denali she wanted to be. The Denali she knew she could be.
Aedan wanted it to be him.
Victory seemed so selfish to him, yet there he was, bracing himself for whatever was going to happen at the Cornucopia. His life consisted of selfless act followed by selfless act, from allying with Avena to appease his mentors, to saying anything to put a smile on Avena's face no matter how uncomfortable he was, to working extra shifts in District Nine to bring in more money for his family, to make sure they had food on the table for dinner, to make sure that his sisters had clothes on their backs.
But, Aedan wanted to win not only for him, but for his family, for District Nine. His family would be able to move into the Victors' Village with him, to live in a proper house with a roof that didn't leak and windows that actually closed in the wintertime. It wasn't a secret that the Capitol was temporarily more lenient on Districts that brought home a victor, either.
Aedan wanted to survive for his own sake, but he wanted to win for everyone else's.
Avena wanted it to be her.
It was much simpler for her. Avena wanted to win for the sake of surviving. To see District Nine again. The allure of the money was nice, but Avena didn't give it much thought. She simply wanted to be alive, to reunite with her parents. With her best friend. She wanted to see the endless rows of grain stalks, to wake up on a crisp morning in the springtime, to feel the warmth of sunshine peeking through her curtains. She wanted to survive so that she could continue to make memories in District Nine similar to those she cherished dearly.
She also wanted to prove that she was capable of winning. That she was strong and smart. She survived the Hunger Games all by herself, and although she couldn't ever prove it, she didn't need anyone to protect her. She firmly believed that being young meant nothing in the Hunger Games, that anyone was capable of being the victor.
Everyone wanted it to be them.
It only could be one, though.
Renour and Denali reached the Cornucopia first. They made their way to the center of the lake, carefully walking along the slippery ice caps, and when they approached the Cornucopia, they rummaged through the remaining supplies in silence. Denali spotted a figure emerging from the trees across the lake, and she nudged Renour, both looking up to see the boy from District Nine standing there, his jacket and shirt ripped and stained.
Aedan looked past Denali and Renour, spotting Avena standing on the opposite side of the lake. Denali looked over her shoulder, and then back at Aedan, and then back at Renour. Renour only stared at Aedan, and he gripped a sword tightly in his hand, stepping away from the Cornucopia. Denali stood there while Renour made his way to Aedan, unsure of what to do. Of where to go. Denali wasn't in control of the situation and she hated every single second of it.
All of the feelings, the thoughts, Denali harbored towards Renour rushed to the forefront of her mind. Renour's chuckle that vexed her as soon as she heard it in the training center. His uncontrollable need to insert some tasteless, thoughtless joke in any conversation. Despite all of their time spent together, Denali couldn't quite understand Renour. Not like Beau.
Did he leave me here to die? Denali thought, watching Renour skip across the lake, not even looking back to see what she was doing. Was she supposed to follow him? To go after Avena? What was a girl to do?
Denali wasn't a killer. Not like Renour. Not like Aedan.
The wall of snow continued to push them towards the lake, and Aedan and Avena reached the edge of the lake, jumping onto an ice cap. The four of them stood on different ice caps as they rocked back and forth, weapons in their hands, and the snow finally ceased when it reached the perimeter of the lake.
Renour was the first one to make a move, jumping off of his ice cap, landing on one closer to Aedan. Avena reactively stepped forward, contemplating which ice cap to jump to, but before she could, Denali reactively leaped off the ice as well, planting both of her feet on a patch of ice across from Avena.
Denali couldn't risk Avena ruining her chances at winning; if Renour took care of Aedan, or vice versa, that would be one less tribute for her to deal with. Slowly, Denali put together all of the pieces, arranging them to work in her favor.
She was so close to winning. To her mansion in the Victors' Village. To an enviable life.
At the sight of the girl from District Eight approaching her, Avena hesitated, reaching for her backpack. Her hands shook as she unclipped the knife, thinking of what else she could use to fight off Denali, but before she could unzip the backpack, Denali pounced on top of Avena, slamming her down onto the ice. Avena tried to push her off, clawing at Denali's hair, but Denali pinned her arms down, resting her entire body weight on top of the girl.
On the other side of the lake, Renour neared Aedan, who seemed just as prepared to fight as Renour was. Renour hopped from ice cap to ice cap, swiping his sword, trying to intimidate Aedan. Aedan stepped forward, though, and swiped his own sword at Renour.
Aedan knew victory wasn't going to be easy. Nothing in his life was ever easy. He had to work hard, to fight, to be who he was.
Denali perked up at the sound of metal clanging. She nodded, smirking. They're fighting. Good.
Underneath Denali, Avena screamed out, weeping and crying, calling for Aedan, but Denali put more and more force on the girl's chest, digging her elbow into the girl's neck.
"Aedan!" Avena screamed, her body tensing up as she attempted to resist Denali. "Help me! Help –"
"Please be quiet," Denali pleaded, blowing the hair dangling in front of her face away, unaware of how much pressure she was actually putting on the girl's small frame. Avena squirmed beneath Denali, but Denali looked away, scanning the lake to find Renour and Aedan. "Please…"
Avena's scream slipped through Denali's fingers, and she shifted her hands, covering Avena's mouth. Denali miscalculated the situation; she focused too much on ensuring that Avena didn't get in the way of Renour and Aedan's ensuing fight, not on what she was doing to Avena.
Denali was only trying to silence her, not to suffocate her, but at the sound of something – a cracking bone, Avena gasping for her – Avena's body twitched. Her eyelids fluttered open and shut, a sharp gasp emitting from her mouth, her body desperately gasping for air, but she couldn't fight back against the sheer weight of Denali's body on top of Avena's, her hands pressing down on her mouth and knees on her chest.
Avena's squirming ceased. Her muffled screams, her squeals.
"Avena?" Denali whispered, crawling backwards as she moved her knees off of the girl. "Avena… Avena, please…"
Denali drowned out the sounds of the fight occuring behind her between the two boys, their weapons clashing, their grunts, the sound of cracking ice under their boots. Denali grabbed Avena's shoulders, shaking her, hoping to see Avena's eyes flick open again.
"No. No, no, no," Denali stammered, brushing the hair out of Avena's face, poking at her face. "No!"
Denali couldn't have killed.
Not a little girl. A girl with dreams just like her own.
The feeling, the act, of killing someone wasn't something Denali could've prepared for. For someone who planned every miniscule detail in her life – what she would wear that day, what she would eat, how she would speak to her mother and father – there was no way for her to emotionally and mentally prepare for what it truly felt like to be the reason someone's life was stripped from them.
This wasn't like Orion. She didn't kill him.
Denali did kill Avena, though.
The sound of Avena's cannon distracted the two boys, and when Denali and Aedan locked eyes, Aedan punched Renour in the jaw while Renour was distracted. Renour recoiled and Aedan barreled towards Denali, leaping from ice cap to ice cap. On her hands and knees, Denali shuffled backwards, and when her foot found the edge of the ice cap, she stood up, throwing her hands up in front of her. Aedan lunged at her, but she jumped to the side, and he quickly turned, grabbing her leg. They both fell to the ground, colliding with the ice.
They both tried to stand up, slipping on the ice, scrambling to regain their balance. Denali tried to run away from Aedan, but she tripped over Avena's body, falling back onto the ice. Aedan rushed towards Denali, and she aimlessly swiped her knife at him, but he dodged every attack, bracing himself for an attack of his own. He glanced at Avena's dead body besides them, and when he looked back at Denali, her eyes widened at the terrifying look on his face.
Avena was his ally. His District partner. His friend.
It was clear that Aedan still worried more about Avena than himself. She was already dead and now, he wanted to avenge her.
Until her last dying breath, Denali only worried about herself and herself only, yet she expected Renour to intervene. To help her, like Aedan attempted to help Avena. When Renour took a step forward, his sword raised, he watched their scuffle unfold and ultimately lowered his arm. Denali had to die eventually; it was either Aedan kill her or Renour kill her himself. The situation Denali found herself in was ideal for Renour.
Renour had his own plan, just like Denali. He had his own hopes and ambitions too, just like Denali.
Denali cried out for Renour, but when she saw Renour was not coming to her rescue, she scowled. Aedan tackled her to the ground, knocking her knife out of her hand, sending it sliding into the water. She was sprawled out on the ice with Aedan on top of her, and she reached out her fingers, desperately trying to find something to grab onto. Aedan raised his knife, and when Denali's fingers found the hilt of Avena's knife, they both followed through with their attack.
Denali lodged her knife in Aedan's thigh, but he clenched his teeth, fighting through the pain, and stabbed Denali in the chest. The blade tore a deep gash in Denali's chest, slicing through the skin and tissue, blood immediately pouring out and sliding along the ice cap. The blood dripped off of the ledge of the ice cap, and Aedan flipped over, glancing down at the water at the sight of illuminated creatures swimming to the surface.
Renour gawked at his ally, a knife protruding out of her chest. He blinked, taking in the image of her bloody body, and when he looked at Aedan, he pointed the tip of his sword at him, gesturing to the knife in Aedan's thigh.
"That looks like it hurts."
"Is this funny to you?" Aedan spat out, his voice shaky. His legs trembled as he tried to straighten his posture, panting and gasping with each surge of pain in his thigh. "You let her die."
Renour came to terms that Denali had to die, just like Beau, early on in the arena. The first thought crossed his mind when they first met in the training center. Unlike Renour, Aedan couldn't understand that. He told himself that he that he understood that Avena had to die eventually, yet time after time, he protected her.
Time after time, he risked his life for her.
Even in the finale, nothing changed. At the sight of Denali on top of her, crushing her, killing her, Aedan couldn't stand there, idly watching. He felt a surge of anger, of valor, to intervene. Even if he made it in time, he could've saved Avena, but then what?
Aedan didn't have it in him to ever kill Avena.
"They both had to die," Renour called out, snapping Aedan out of his thoughts. He stared at Renour, his eyes empty. Weapons floated around in the lake, and Aedan hobbled to the edge of the ice cap, reaching down for a sword. "I'm ready whenever you're ready, Aedan."
Renour felt a sense of confidence growing somewhere deep inside of him as each second passed. Aedan hobbled forward, blood seeping out his wound, visibly distraught and in pain. Renour positioned himself on his ice cap, prepared to fight Aedan.
Prepared to kill him.
Prepared to win.
The Career-version of himself that Renour silenced, that Renour suppressed, resurfaced.
Renour ran across his ice cap, launching himself off of it, and as he hovered over the water, Aedan raised his sword. When Renour landed, he swung his sword, their weapons colliding, and Renour swiftly swung it again, knocking Aedan's sword out of his hand. The sword clamored as it hit the ice, and with a flick of his foot, Renour sent it flying into the water.
Aedan was too weak to fight back. The image of Avena dying weighed on his mind. The injuries from Cara and Denali took a toll on him.
Aedan uttered inaudible sounds, stammering over his words. He wanted to say something, but what? To who? He wanted to apologize to Avena, to her family, for failing her. He wanted to apologize to his mentors for failing them. He wanted to address all of District Nine, to tell them that he almost made it back. That he almost won for them.
He wanted to say goodbye to his family. To his sisters. He wanted to tell them that although he wouldn't be returning, that they would never hear his heavy footsteps creeping down the hallway early in the morning, they shouldn't be sad. He wanted to tell them that they should remember the good memories they had of Aedan.
Aedan wanted to fight back. For everyone back in District Nine.
So, fueled by desperation, he tried.
Aedan flailed out his arms and legs, rushing towards Renour, and while it did catch him off-guard, Renour dodged him and impaled Aedan with his sword, slicing right through his stomach. The tip of the sword protruded out of his back, and his body crumbled, hunching over as he fell to his knees.
Aedan didn't want to stop fighting. He didn't want to give up.
For Avena. For my family. For District Nine.
Renour loomed over him, looking down at Aedan's writhing body, and with his foot, Renour pushed him to the ground. Aedan lied on his back, his legs twitching as he tried to kick. Renour took a step backwards and looked up at the sky.
A smirk formed on Renour's face.
Renour was seemingly unbothered by what happened. It was because he was, in fact, unbothered by it. By the Hunger Games. Regardless of what Renour convinced himself, of what he tried to convince others, he was still a Career, and Careers were trained to kill. To feel absolved of any guilt. The other tributes were mere bodies, like dummies in a training center. He thought of his old allies when he was still in the Career pack, of their faces in the sky, of how at one point, he enjoyed their company, but he kept himself at bay, just like a Career was trained to do. Even with Beau, he kept himself at bay, but after he died, he loosened up with Denali.
He let himself open up. He let himself joke and laugh. He let himself not feel so stifled.
He thought of Beau and Denali, of Drachma and Cleo, of Caspian and Nereida. He even thought of Georgia.
Georgia.
The fleeting thought of her, the image of her dead body at the feast, reminded Renour why he wanted to win. Why he needed to win. Renour stood there, looking up at the sky, inhaling and exhaling, ignoring Aedan as he continued to utter sounds. Renour's mind was set on the future. On returning to District Two.
He eagerly anticipated the Gamemaker announcing his name. Announcing that Renour Malvigne of District Two won. He thought of the upcoming Victor's Interview. The Victory Tour. The Victor's Council he would attend as District Two's newest victor. Of his victory speech to District Two's current trainees.
Aedan closed his eyes, realizing that there was nothing else he could do. Renour wasn't focused on him anymore, and Aedan tilted his head back, shivering as a chill shot from his neck down to his back at the touch of the cold ice.
Aedan flipped to his side, wincing at the pain, dragging himself along the ice, scooting to the edge of the ice cap. He inhaled, shut his mouth, and held his breath as he tipped himself, water splashing as his body hit it. The freezing cold water overwhelmed Aedan, and he felt something nip at him, sharp teeth digging into his skin, but this time, he didn't fight back.
Aedan didn't have any fight left in him. He lied there, floating on the water, holding his breath and pressing his eyelids firmly shut.
It reminded him of his time in the swimming pool in the training center.
It reminded Aedan of what once was.
Renour watched Aedan's body float in the water, the sword still lodged inside of him, and he let out one last deep sigh. Renour started to feel his body, his muscles and nerves, relax, knowing that was officially the end of the Hunger Games. He eagerly scanned the sky, looking for the hovercraft that would come and get him to bring him back to the Capitol. He was already thinking about how soon, he'd have a platform. He'd have an audience that would listen to him.
Soon, he thought. District Two will be different.
Panem will be different.
"May I present to you the victor of the One-Hundred-and-Twentieth Hunger Games – Renour Malvigne of District Two!"
Avena Raiden, District Nine – Placed 4th
Denali Felder, District Eight, Placed 3rd
Aedan Vidar, District Nine – Placed 2nd
Renour Malvigne, District Two – Victor
Author's Note:
What? Whaaaat? What? There's the finale. I hope you enjoyed it! If not, then too bad, so sad! xx
How's everyone's summer going? Anything exciting happening? Any exciting upcoming plans? Americans are continuing to be Americans and are ruining everything for everyone, but honestly… I can't complain. Summer in DC is BRUTAL, so I'm vibing in my air conditioned apartment… anyway, that's enough about me
Next chapter will be the epilogue, where we'll see what Renour is up to as VICTOR. I'll have some questions for y'all to respond to about Break the Ice overall :)