A/N: Lucky chapter number thirteen! :) This one is short, but I didn't feel like it went with the next bit, so here it is.
In the Capitol…
"Welcome to the Sixty-first Hunger Games. May the odds be ever in your favor!" boomed a large man wearing the purple robes of Head Gamemaker. He beamed in satisfaction as the control room thrummed to life and the countdown began, displayed by a glowing hologram above a model of the arena in the center of the room. Although his position was less than secure, it was moments like these that made his job worth the fear of execution. The honor of creating another successful Games was quite a reward indeed. In a few weeks, he would be the most sought-after man in the Capitol.
Having launched the tributes into the arena, the assistant gamemakers filed one by one into the control room to take their seats at various monitors at the perimeter of the room. That's when it all went wrong. The lights flickered and all the screens went black except from a strange triangular spiral symbol burning brightly on the displays. The only remaining light came from the live feed showing the blood bath as well as the soft glow from the map of the arena. A young man rushed over to him with a clipboard.
"We've lost all control over the arena," he reported, the pure terror in his expression the only explanation needed to convey the desperation of the situation if the gamemakers wished to keep their lives. "Some force has pushed out all our connections," he gulped. "And I don't know how that's even possible."
Nervous muttering filled the small space, and suddenly a deep voice cried out, anonymous in the gathering darkness. "It's magic. And only one would have the power to do such a thing. Emrys."
The room was suddenly silent as a tomb. The Head Gamemaker's attention turned to the footage of the bloodbath as a raven-haired young man's eyes flashed a dangerous gold and a spear levitated in midair.
Claudius Ackerman, Head Gamemaker of the Sixty-first Hunger Games was a dead man. They all were.
