Pure Half-Blood

by isabelle-hunterofshadows

Peyton is daughter of Zeus and a Hogwarts potions professor. She's spent her entire life struggling to balance her double life, and now her parents are sending her off North Shore public high school! What happens when the king of the gods and a powerful witch are parents to the most powerful fifteen year old girl in the supernatural world? Pure half-blood or pure mean girl?

7. Chapter 7

This years Hunger Games just happened to take place in Narnia. I began preparing as I eyed my competition. A short, burly boy sharpened a knife just a few feet away from me. A tall, skinny girl passed by me, her intimidating blonde curls flouncing just past her shoulders. I immediately thought of Regina. A lanky boy with dazzling baby blue eyes. I might have had a crush on him if, you, he wasn't trying to kill me.
Why did I have to be so stupid? I should have thought this through before the reaping. Was I going to die? Which one of these mortals would be my murderer? Even worse, which ones would I be forced to kill?
Let the games begin!

I sprinted toward the cornucopia. Big mistake. The blonde - Isobel - turned out to be both prettier and tougher than Regina - not to mention a heck of a lot faster. She reached the weapons before I could manage, and darted at me with an expertly sharpened dagger. I ducked underneath her arm, swift enough to evade her. She laughed and sliced my shoulders with no compassion. Fury raged through my merciless heart. Without a second thought, I managed to grab an arrow and stab her in the chest.

Hearing her dreadful shouting, I grabbed the bow and arrow before dashing into the Narnian horizon.
Running off, I considered the significance of my mistake. Isobel's final screams echoed several moments after her breath ceased. My ears throbbed with pain. Certainly, I came here with the expectation to kill, to murder. But never in a million years would I ever imagine the guilt and pain that came along with it.
Not to mention that I did it on national television.
"Peyton." A voice roared in the distance. My eyes widened with fear.
"Wh-who are you?" I stuttered. "Reveal yourself!"
"Very well." At that moment, a scruffy lion appeared before me.
I gasped in astonishment. "Aslan?"
"No," he rumbled. "I've been sent to take you to him."
"Why does Aslan want to see me?"
He roared, "Only he can tell you that. Now, you must ride on my back and I shall deliver you to your designated meeting place."
I obeyed, gripping on tightly to his disheveled mane.
"If you aren't Aslan, who are you?"
"Rumbleroar."