Two

Zuko, Province 1

"Zuzu, get up already!" my sister yells at me. A 'good morning' would have sufficed as well, but that's about as much 'nice' that Azula is going to offer me before she sets my bed on fire. Believe me, it's happened before.

I shake my head and examine my surroundings briefly. I'm in my bedroom, of course. Silk wallpaper adorns the walls, adorned with a vague pattern of fire. To the left, is the balcony that leads to a distant vista of Province 1. Across from me, an ample mirror displays the image of a sleepy boy being bereaved by his younger sister. To my right is the door that leads to the hallway, ajar, and my sister, towering over me like a giant. For some reason, she's wearing her special dress, fitted around the shoulders with a talon-like attachment shaded a deep maroon: the color of the Fire Nation provinces. The "sharpness" of it fits her personality perfectly. But why? Azula only wears it during the most festive occasions; military pageants, business dinners, and …

"It's selection day, and if I don't force you out of bed, the guards will."

Oh crap.

I jolt out of my bed instantly. Selection day: my least favorite occasion of the entire year. That's when two children and taken from each province and sent to compete in the Element Games, a fight to the death. I come from Province 1, which is the closest of the twelve to Republic City in most ways; we're wealthier than the rest of the provinces and get quite a bit of favoritism. Just like in Republic City, it turns into something of a celebration.

I never quite grasped the concept, unlike Azula and dad. Why would I, a province citizen, celebrate the incoming deaths of 23 innocent children? Am I supposed to be happy that I wasn't one of them?

"Oh, so now you get the idea." retorts Azula in a tone even more condescending. "You have 10 minutes, and dad says we have to leave as a family. Chop, chop."

"Thanks for the warning." I reply feebly.

I dive into my cabinets before I realize, belatedly, that all of the dress clothes are in the room down the hall. Half-walking-half-waddling, I make my way down the passage, which seems twice as long as usual. My sister motions in the other direction toward her bedroom, mentioning something about putting on mascara, or whatever strange girly thing she's going to wear to the square.

When I make into the dressing room, I find my formal robes hanging on the mirror, probably left by a knowing servant. Cautiously, I maneuver into the clothes, the soft silk sliding delicately around my skin. Hastily, I grab my customary headpiece and head further down the hall.

Now, I'm quite literally in the home stretch as I slide into the dining room, slowing my pace as if to pretend I'm at a casual glide. I do it rather poorly, though, as my mom and dad look up sharply from their breakfasts. Almost by cue, mom hurries over to fuss over me.

"What took you so long?" she asks as she straightens my hair back into a neat formation.

"Er…" Fortunately, I'm spared from answering when the door across the room bursts open and Azula storms in. While looking up, I sneak a glance at dad, but he barely gives me a glance before turning to great my "precious" sister. Well, what could I expect?

"Your hair!" my mom continues. "You must look nice to preserve the family name you know. Besides, this'll be the year you…" she trails off, unsure of herself.

The letter came in the mail several months ago, the same one I have been secretly dreading my whole life. It was short and simple, but the message came through in one and a half sentences.

Congratulations, Zuko.

You have been hand-selected for the honor of representing Province 1 in the 74th Element Games.

You see, I was chosen to be one of them: the Elites. Collectively, children in One, Two, and Four, the wealthiest provinces, are trained before the beginning of the Element Games and told to fight for honor and pride. Before the games begin, we go before a board of trainers, sent from Republic City, and compete in a tournament of sorts for who gets to be sent into the games. I rack my brains to remember why I was selected. At this point, not I even know.

Truthfully, I never wanted to become one an Elite. Not only because I fear death, but because I fear what comes after. I've seen that kind of victor every year. The games, they change people. They drive them insane.

After everyone's finished, we take the Satomobile to the province square. Every couple of minutes, I peek outside the velvety curtains. From there, you can clearly see Province 1's poor; easily identifiable with the layer of dirt around them, their ragged clothes, their bone-thin hands resting on their empty stomachs, and, above all, the utter bleakness in their eyes. Each time, I shiver and regret opening the curtain. We pass through several rings of tenements, each progressively less derelict, before we finally come to the center.

"You have to make an entrance." recommends dad, quite authoritatively. Azula and I wait for the padded doors of the car to be opened by the chauffer. Azula climbs out first, adorned with her signature smirk. I brush any loose strands of hair and emerge from the Satomobile with what I hope is some sort of regality and poise.

The first thing I am greeted with is blank stares. The children of the province turn to face us. By far, this always seems to be the most grueling part of reaping, having to stare down all of the hungry, envious children. Azula does it with ease, which I somewhat admire her for. She branches off towards the sixteen year olds, and I am lead toward the seventeen year olds. Just as I'm about to walk toward my friends, an abrupt noise stops me.

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrk! "Sorry!"

The sudden crack from the microphone alerts us to the sudden presence from our escort. It's a Joo Dee. It's always a Joo Dee. Sent straight from Republic City, the escorts are used to drum up excitement for the games in the districts. What has always disturbed me is the fact that all escorts have the same name and same robotic demeanor.

"Welcome. We are so lucky that Republic City provides us with the Element Games, which provide honor to all districts."

Joo Dee doesn't try to work the crowd, which is odd for someone trying to excite everyone. Rather, it is more like she is stating facts for us.

"Why, let us celebrate the history of the great Element Republic."

And so, the Joo Dee goes on a tangent about the history of this nation. In brief, it is something like this: several hundred odd years ago, there were four nations that lived in harmony; the Earth Kingdom, the Fire Nation, the Water Tribes, and the Air Nomads. Each could bend their prospective element. Then, the "great" Avatar, the only person who could bend all four elements, "united" these nations under one Element Republic. "United" is a light word to describe it. Rather, the Avatar waged war against all of the nations, mostly so he could control everything and everyone under his grip. He rationalized that because the spirits gave him penultimate bending power, the spirits must have also provided ultimate political power. The nations rebelled bitterly, but they were unable to beat the most powerful bender across the land.

And so, that is why we have the bloody, sadistic, Element Games. It is retaliation, so many centuries later, for the resistance the provinces tried to put up against the Avatar.

When she finally finishes her speech, she walks over to the bowls that contain the slips. I suppose in the poorer provinces, this must be a tense moment. Whoever is picked is most certainly fated to die. But here in Province 1, there is no worry since an Elite usually takes the child's place.

"So, let us select our female tribute."

She reaches in and claws around for a strip of paper.

"Masaka."

A girl from the 15 years olds walks forward. She seems delicate, the kind that, unfortunately, is almost always destined for death in the bloodbath. Suddenly, my heart begins to race. It's coming, I know it is. I turn around to face Azula, who is in the opposite section. She sees my gaze and points at her chin. Chin held high…

"So, let us select our male tribute." repeats Joo Dee.

I cringe, as if I'm about to be punched in the face.

"Zuko."

Oh god. I begin to step forward, attempting to hide to nervousness I am truly feeling. I quickly glance back at my sister, and I can tell by the look on her face that I am doing poorly.

"Win." That is the only word dad reserves for me. He's not afraid if I die. After all, I'm clearly the expendable child. Then, he turns on his heels and leaves the room before I can comment.

Azula comes in next. She rushes in, not particularly to say goodbye, but instead to convey a message. Since we have limited to talk to each other, she has to speak quickly.

"You've got to find fire. It's the only way you can win." she blurts out. "If not, make it yourself. You can find flint – it's black and the Gamemakers have to provide it. Stay with the other Elites. Be careful at the bloodbath. Remember everything we've learned in training. And above all, Zuzu, don't do anything stupid."

Suddenly, she stops. In a single moment, her urgency subsides and she says the next words more slowly.

"Dad sent me to bring you a token." she pulls out a ruby necklace. I take it and look at it closely. It's a ruby suspended by a silvery chain, probably from this province's jewel mines. I look at it more closely and see the faint outline of an ornate flame. Of course, it's our family symbol.

When I look up, I realize Azula has left her spot an is at the doorway. She turns her head slightly one last time and I see, if it's even possible, a tear forming in her eye. "Come back, Zuzu." She then leaves the room, probably so I won't have to see her cry.

Mom comes in last. Unlike Azula, she doesn't try to hide her emotions. As she pulls me in for a hug, her tear-streaked face rubs against mine.

"You've been crying." I state, not ask.

"No, no, of course not. These are tears of joy. I'm so proud of you, Zuko." she assures, more to herself than to me.

Just like the letter that condemned me to this fate, her goodbye is short.
"I love you, Zuko. Whatever happens in the arena, just remember that."

And then, I'm left alone in the room with those words.

Mai, Province 2

"Mai."

"I'm here."

Sighing, I walk up to the guard who gives out the audition slips. He wears a typical uniform, the same as across the rest of the Element Republic. White helmet, white robes, white everything. This is perhaps to give the illusion of peace, which couldn't be farther from the truth. As he hands me a slip, his face twists into the same patronizing expression I've seen everywhere else.

"Oh…" Damn it. "You're the mayor's daughter! You must certainly be a shoe-in for these games, huh?"

"Not exactly." I dismiss as I snatch the slip. "I'm not even going to try." I turn away from him before he can ask for a clarification.

As is the social norm, I train to become an Elite, especially if you have to uphold the "honor" of being a mayor's daughter. But the problem is, I just don't care. I have better things to do than waste my teenage years on the one-in-a-thousand chance that I may be selected by Republic City's trainers. It's pitiful, really, to see all these other over confident trainees waste their life on the games and get rejected. But perhaps I'm wrong. Maybe they just don't have a life in the first place.

The doors open automatically, and I start walking down the corridor. No, not walking. More like trekking. It's darkened, to the point where I'm not sure if I'm walking in a straight line. Down what appears to be at least a quarter mile of space is a pair of steel, iron doors. Clearly, the trainers are attempting for drama and intimidation for all those who audition before them. That's … pretty lame.

After several minutes of walking down this ridiculously drawn out hallway, I finally reach the doors. Without hesitation, I shove them open. My eyes are immediately drawn to the left.

The trainer's box, which is decked out with as many kinds of red silk as possible, is full of the typical Republic City-type. That is, drunk, obnoxious, stuck-up, etc. I can already tell they're all drunk. They probably imported some sort of sake from Province 9. They're probably to blame for all the incapable tributes they've selected; Province 2 hasn't been able to win the Element Games for five years.

Then, I look around. Ringing each side of this concrete-filled octagon shaped room is a different station. Starting from the trainer's box, I see fire starting, plant identification, some circle of dummies which I can only assume is sword wielding, target practice…

Ah, yes.

Since I was 6, I've taught myself to throw knives. A violent hobby? For sure, but there's little else to do when you're a mayor's daughter.

Without bothering to look around further, I strut toward the targets. I immediately pull out a set of ring of throwing knives from the weapons rack. They're cold to the touch and, despite years of use, glimmer in the room's light. Wedging a knife between each of my fingers, I begin.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh…

Each one hits fatally straight to the heart. Next, I pull out the stilettos.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh…

At some point, I stop paying attention to anything and everything. I'm just on autopilot as I pull out set after set of weapons to throw. Some auditions can last a long time.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh...

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh…

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh…

Whoosh, whoosh, -

"That's enough for today." commands the trainer in the center, who I can only assume is the head.

Whatever is going through their horse-glue-and-paper-mache-filled minds, it's certainly not my knife throwing skills. Somehow, they look even more inebriated than when I began.

"So?" inquires my lame excuse for a dad.

"I did it."

"As in?" my mom butts in.

"It."

They sigh simultaneously, knowing better than having to ask further. As of yet, I am 16 and I still haven't gotten even a nod from the trainers.

Like in Provinces 1 and 4, I live in an Elite district. Sure, no one is hungry or poor here in 2, and Republic City adores us, but that only makes life profoundly… dull. There really is no fathoming the depths of my hatred for this province. While I have "friends", I want nothing more in life than to leave and never come back. Unfortunately, that would be impossible. Then again, my dad is mayor, so I could have some sort of chance.

Then, I realize that my parents are still in the room, looking at me expectantly, which breaks my chain of thought.

"What?" I demand irritably.

"Time for selection. You should to change into… fancier clothes." says dad.

"Oh, fine."

"We'll have so much fun!" mom squeals. According to her, I should interest myself in more "lady-like" hobbies, like clothes, makeup, all the "fun" stuff. While I've never been a tomboy (if you've seen those ugly butch girls at the training center, you'd understand why), "lady-like" habits just seen so… superficial.

After much persuasion, they forces me into a dress. However, it's the same colors as my normal clothes – red and black – so it's more of a victory for me.

Dad takes a step back and forces in front of a mirror.

"So?" inquires my dad.

"It's … bearable."

They both sight again, but they don't bother to fit me in another dress. I'm not in the fashion loop, so there is really no telling if I look good or bad. Bearable really is the most fitting adjective. I observe myself in the mirror once again. It's pure black and long, covering my most of my legs, but sleeveless. It's one of those frilly dresses, with elaborate fabric patterns around my neck area.

"OK, we should arrive early togeth-"

"I'll escort myself."

I blurt out the words faster than I mean to, and both of them are taken aback. The last thing I want is to be paraded into the province square with my parents, the two people I want to distance myself from the most. So, the best way out of this situation is… to lie.

"I want the Republic City representatives to think I'm a more… independent sort of girl, perfect for a tribute." I fib.

"Oh, that's very wise of you, Mai." says mom. The fact that they actually bought the excuse almost makes me want to break out into laughter. The only "Republic City representative" at the square is Joo Dee, and we both know that she could pick out a tribute for her life. But, I digress.

"Bye!"

"Good luck! We're so proud of you, our little Mai!"

They wave at me as I leave, and I pretend to be excited just so they get off my back

As soon as I get to the square, my irises are bombarded with … ugh. It's a gaudy celebration. Right in front of the Justice Building, where my dad works, is a stage covered liberally with banners of green, blue, orange, and red. Two enormous screens are there as well, but they're shut off at the moment.

After I check in, the rest of the festivities are a blur. Joo Dee speaks and speaks and speaks until she finally says those magic words.

"So, let us select our female tribute."

Almost by accord, the crowd gasps together collectively.

"Mai."

Normally, selections are held at the same time across the country. Every Joo Dee, in perfect unison, must be picking out the female tribute. For the ones in poorer provinces, they must be utterly terrified. For the ones in Elite provinces, they must be utterly thrilled. But with every single emotion that should be coursing through my veins right now, only one word comes out.

"Oh."

I feel my friends push me forward. Whether out of excitement or envy, I'm not sure. As I tread up the stage, I'm greeted by the pale black eyes of Province 2's very own Joo Dee. That's the last thing I vaguely remember before everything pans out again. It feels more like I am watching myself from a distance, as if nothing at this very moment is real.

"Chan." I'm snapped back into reality as I scan the crowd for my first sign of competition. If I want to win these games, I'd better start thinking. A burly 18-year-old separates himself from his section. I've recognized him before; he's the popular boy. Almost every boy from his section cheers him on, much more enthused than the girls in my section when I was chosen.

He's popular, but he's weak: I note to myself as he to climbs the stairs. I remember seeing him at the training center. As much influence as he had, he couldn't shoot a bow and arrow for his life. I figure it must have been his influence that let him win the selection.

Joo Dee motions for us to shake hands. As we do so, he leans over slightly and whispers in my ear only audible enough for me to hear: "I'm going to win, doll."

"We'll see about that when I throw a knife through your femoral artery." I hiss back. He shrinks backwards, causing me to smirk slightly. He probably didn't expect me to have a backbone. Well, if there has to be an Elite alliance, there is no chance that I'm going to pair up with him.

Well, he's dumb too. I think as his features distort into confusion. He doesn't know what a femoral artery is.

Several boring hours later, I end up on the train.

You need to stop phasing out, Mai. If you want to win, you have to pay attention to every second. I remind myself.

I take in a deep breath and look out the window, seeing the passing landscapes.

Besides, shouldn't you be worried?

Quite surprisingly, I'm not. I never thought about this till now, but it's true. In fact, I'm almost happy that I was chosen. My life wasn't headed anywhere, back in Province 2. Don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those suicidal maniacs, but perhaps, just perhaps, the Element Games will give me a chance to make a name for myself. Not just as the little Mayor's girl, but as myself.

Teo, Province 3

The sun shines brightly across my bedsheets. Its warm glow nearly comforts me back to sleep, ironically. But the bright sheen, crossing through even my eyelids, tells me otherwise. Instinctively, I try to roll over until I stop and almost laugh at my stupidity.

Duh, you can't do that.

So instead, I pull the covers across my face. I feebly attempt to recall the dream I had. Clouds… flying… winged lemurs… dragons… fire… explosions… falling debris…

What?

Oh right, it was more of a nightmare than a dream. Somehow, my brain just loves to flash back to that day, when the factory explosion took out my legs – and my mother.

"Okay, okay, I'll get up." I regress, to no one in particular.

I slip into my clothes, with less difficulty than I expected, and transfer from the bed into my wheelchair. I ride past my dad's room to make sure he's asleep. He's always wanted to protect me, especially after that factory explosion. He's never told me much about it, which I don't mind: having no memory of that day is a blessing, but he's always blamed himself for the incident. But, in some weird, inverse way, I want to be able to protect him to; he's much older and more vulnerable than he used to be.

I chuckle lightly to myself as a roll past; he would never, ever approve of what I'm going to do next.

"You prepared?"

"You prepared to lose?" pipes Qian.

We're both at eastern edge of the Province 3. Because the clouds have turned a lighter shade of grey I assume it must be sunrise, but it's hard to tell anymore since the factory load increased. You see, I live in Province 3. We build assorted technology for Republic City in the many factories spread throughout our mountainside. Radios, explosives, projectors, you name it. Before the Great War, Province 3 was once the Northern Air Temple. People, called the Air Nomads, lived in harmony with nature. As much as I like my province, sometimes, I yearn for the days of the Air Nomads. Their lives were simpler than ours.

After the war, when much of the airbending population of this temple was wiped out, the so-called "Great" Avatar decided that the ever flowing winds would be constant enough to blow away pollution, making the Northern Air Temple a convenient location for the factories. Well, he sure was wrong. As the population of the Republic grew, the need for technology did too. Before long, the once intricate structures of the Air Nomads were re-shaped, re-formated, and even bulldozed to make way for the factories. The remaining hodge-podge of benders and non-benders were nearly worked to death.

From what I know, almost nothing of the old temples has been left. There's still an old wall here, a building there, but by now, it's almost completely gone.

My wheelchair, constructed with steel, creaks ever so slightly as I ease forward to the line. My hands tighten around the brake instinctively, but I relax. We both back up to a line drawn in the stone pavement, and Qian begins to count down.

"5, 4, 3 – " I look up and realize that he's already sped away.

"You cheater!"

By then, though, he's already dived off the platform. I pull forward to the ledge as well, but laughably slowly. What can I say? I guess I wasn't born with strong arms. The wheel's trajectory follows through, and I end up freefalling off the edge.

As the wind rustles past I hastily pull back on several handles just before the tipping chair threatens to unseat me and let me plummet all the way to the sharp rocks below. The wings pop out with a steady click. And then, the chair glides along the air.

Only one word describes such a feeling, one few have ever experienced - freedom. Freedom from a complacent life at the dingy factories. Freedom from those smoggy clouds and dirty air. Freedom from Province 3, and even from the Avatar's reaches.

You see, fate decided I wasn't born to walk; I was born to fly.

I scan the clouds above me and see the faint form of Qian above me. I tilt the steering handles from side to side and manage to catch a current off an enormous rock formation, pulling up onto the same level as him.

"Very, very convincing Qian," I shout above the din, "I almost thought you wouldn't cheat, again."

He turns around: "But you still fell for it." He leers. "Face it, you're more trusting than you should be."

We both laugh to ourselves, much more loudly than normal considering the noise level. He steers right and I follow, the distance between us lessening by the second. Just as I'm close enough to his side to reach out and clip his wing, something stings my right ear.

Instinctively I swing around my free hand to try to catch whatever insect caught the deed, but I come up short and find nothing but a bizarre, out-of-place, speck of steel. Steel, probably from a spark of ember, which only appears in the air when there's an –

"AIR SHIP!" I bellow, just in before a hulking mass of platinum unexpectedly emerges from the cloud directly in front of it. Qian veers left, and I veer right. I manage to avoid getting hit fairly easily, but the ship's horn suddenly rings, alerting them to our presence. You see, air-gliding isn't precisely… legal.

My steering skills are really put to the test as a net is launched out of one of the ship's cannons. I avoid it, but as if by magic, redirects itself and flies back upwards toward me again. Damn – there's metalbenders aboard that ship.

"Province citizen," blares a loudspeaker, "air-gliding is an illegal and dangerous sport under Province 3 jurisdiction. Please surrender to Republic forces immediately."

I pull out a spare knife and slash at the net just before it launches at me again; it falls towards the ground, halved. If I just make it to the end of the airship, it'll pass us. It takes every bit of determination to steer my chair in that direction, considering that its sudden appearance just disrupted all air currents.

"Just… a little bit more." I grit through my teeth as I wildly maneuver my wheelchair. I nearly collapse with relief when I see Qian on the other side of the tail fin, batting away his own net with an impressive show of airbending. When he turns to face me his face is abate at first, but it morphs into an expression of horror.

"WATCH OUT!"

I pretty much have no time to react as a steel cord grips itself around my left wing.

"NOT TODAY!" he hollers, and sends over a wave of air to sever the cord. For a few seconds I am jerked backward, but as I turn around I realize, belatedly, that the force of the blast has made the cord pull away with the wing.

A feeble "Uh-oh" is all I manage before the chair begins to plunge downward, dragging me with it. Qian swoops down again and grabs my right arm, pulling me out before the hulking machine fails entirely. He hauls it up toward the middle portion of wing, and does the same with my other hand, leaving me dangling above certain doom.

"How long can you hold on?" he directs more than asks. For what seems like an eternity, but is more like a few minutes in reality, he guides us back to the safety of the province cliffs. As soon as we are a feet past the overhang, I finally loosen my death grip and tumble to the ground. A second crumpling sound tells me that Qian has made it back to steady ground as well.

After a few seconds he helps me up, rather awkwardly considering I have no feeling in my legs. In spite of all of his backhandedness, Qian sure is a benevolent person. Fortunately for both of us, it's still too early for most people to get up, so no one is here to see this odd scene. He practically carries me to the front of the home, before he stops.

"It's fine, I can find a replacement wheelchair from here." I say, mostly to end the silence.

"Oh, all right." I can tell that he's still a bit shaken up from the encounter, but him much more than me. It looks like he's seen a ghost. "See you at the reaping."

In a less-than-dignified manner, I flop down onto the dusty wooden floors and crawl with my arms to the garage. I manage to pull up into a spare wheelchair just as I hear a distant yawn from my dad's bedroom. I hurriedly roll toward my bedroom and plop into the bed, just a few seconds before I hear movement from his room.

"Teo?" dad says as he peeks in through the doorway. "Time to get up, it's selection day you know."

I feign a yawn before I fake surprise as well. "Really? I've lost track of time. I'll get up."

As I get dressed in my dad's hand-me-down-special-occasion-but-mostly-selection clothes, I stumble into the kitchen a simple breakfast of bread and dried fruits. I'm about halfway through when I realize the dad hasn't touched his plate yet. His face is solemn and unusually stoic, unlike his cheerful, slightly overbearing self. He's staring at, of all things, a flower vase, though rather, he's simply lost in thought. I know exactly what's on his mind.

I reach over and grasp his hand. "Look." I assert. "I know for a fact that there are 594 people in Province 3, not even counting the ages. Because I'm 14, the chances of me being drawn are 3 in, say, 2000. There's no need to worry."

He pauses for a second, before he turns to face me as well. He grins at me, but I still see that trace of concern in his eyes, unsettling me.

"Alright, alright." he admits, "I'm a worry wart. I'll be strong for you." – Then, he does a near perfect impression of a Joo Dee. – "And I hope that the odds are in your favor, Teo."

We both laugh together, if a little forced; I'll need to assure myself a bit more if I want to get through this selection day.

"Hello." Joo Dee states to the tense crowd. "Welcome to the Element Games." She pauses, expecting a cheer or some sort of applause, but nothing gets through.

Qian, who is next to me, nudges me trying to force a smile out of me. I grin a little, but mostly to put both of us at ease.

As she begins her speech, I look around the crowd; I've always had some sort of aptitude for detecting emotions that I supposed inherited from my mother. As you could guess, the tension is palpable. Because selection is a national holiday, no one has work; but oddly enough, I can tell all these people just want to get on with their life. It's just another chapter, another year, to be filed away and forgotten. That thought sends shivers through my spine; the two tributes who will die in a couple of weeks, they will be forgotten too. Not just by Republic City, but by their own province too.

I realize that Joo Dee must have finished, because now she is brandishing around the envelopes. She pulls out the first of two.

"Kyung." I've never heard of this girl before, but I feel a gushing outpour of sympathy as soon as she separates from the crowd.

The crowd murmurs angrily to each other, yet to no one in particular. Kyung turns out to be a little, twelve year old girl. A little, innocent, vulnerable twelve year old girl that is being sent to her bloody, bloody death.

My train of thought stops as Joo Dee unwraps the boy's envelope. Well, maybe dad was right. My chances of being picked are 3 in 2000-

"Teo."

The first thing I try to do after the name is called is crane my neck to see for the unlucky boy, but all I get are blank stares.

Then, I realize. I have been selected for the 74th Element Games.

Ty Lee, Province 4

"Have you heard of her?" the boy whispers.

"Yeah, she ran away from her family to perform here." the girl replies ever so discreetly.

"Wait, really? What a freak!"

"I know, right?"

At this point, I think I've had enough. With an impressive, if I say so myself, somersault I land right to the side of the gossiping pair, making them jump away simultaneously.

"Actually, you mean 'circus freak'." I say to them both, donning a genuine grin. "Freak is just too general." They begin backing away, as if they're being cornered by a serial killer.

"But I'm really glad you've heard of me! You came all the way to see me perform, didn't you?" Then I lean in towards the boy, who cringes. "Who told you that?" I inquire, as if sharing a juicy secret. "Karina? You know, I bet that she's just jealous that I could best an Elite at acrobatics. But don't tell her that!"

Without waiting for a response, I climb up the nearest tent pole and hang upside down from it. "Well, it's been nice to meet you! Enjoy the show!" And with that, I leap back into my dressing room.

Here's something you should know about me: most people don't want to know what others think of them. They want to live in their own wacky, fantasy world where everyone loves them. But for me: well, let's just say "knowledge is power". I do know what others think of me, and I'm very glad I know. It's taught me to separate friends from enemies; I can just avoid the whole awkward dialogue altogether.

I go back in front of my mirror and straighten out my ponytail. I use some makeup, but with a light hand. Here in the circus, we associate makeup with clowns.

"Ty Lee?" sounds a voice through my closed door. "It's almost time for the show!"

"Alright, alright, I'm coming!" I yell back. I hurriedly stuff all the makeup powders into my drawer and pull the door open. I'm met immediately with a pair of disapproving eyes.

"Oh, come on. You need to be quicker than that." says Katsumi with a roll of her eyes. "Look, we share the same trailer, so we both have to be responsible for each other. Now, let's go!"

I'm not too sure why she's so worried, considering her act comes before mine, but I go along with her anyways. As she drags me through the rest of the campground, I wave hello to the rest of the carnies as I pass them. After several minutes of fast paced running, we finally make it to the grand chapiteau, and not with a moment to spare.

"Katsumi?"

"We're about-"

"-to go on-"

"-right now!"

The Nao twins are her partners for their act: the Russian bar. Sure, the trapeze is nice and all, but I just have to envy their act. She's just so… graceful as she performs flips, backflips, cartwheels, and such on a 5 inch long piece of wood. Katsumi would have made a great Elite if she wasn't in the circus.

"…And up next, the trapeze artists as they defy gravity!" the sudden announcement from the ringleader breaks me from my train of thought. Oh darn, we're about to go up.

The trapeze; how can I possibly describe it? It's like the sensation of freefalling… but instead of actually having to land, you're thrown upwards again and again. Of my act, I'm the youngest performer. I join the 4 performers and, with a final deep breath, we step out into the cheering crowd.

That night I stare up into the heavens as if they hold all the answers to my complex life. My sleeping bag cocoons me, like some sort of hibernating animal. They twinkle back at me, yet the only thing unchanged by the years of war since the republic was founded. I look to my left and see Katsumi already nodding off to sleep. Most nights, I too would be out like a log, but not tonight. You see, tomorrow morning is the selection. I don't know why I should particularly worry, I guess, since Four is an Elite province. I know the real reason. Surely it's because of what happened 4 weeks ago, the thing I feel I'm about to regret very soon

"Your name?"

"Ty Lee."

The guard's eyebrows rise.

"You're not from around here."

"That's right, I'm part of the circus."

Suddenly, the guard's expression changes as he is hearing a joke. He chokes down the emotion that almost makes him chuckle right to her face, but barely.

"Oh, I see." he continues, the patronization ever so noticeable. "Go on."

The girl sighs as she begins to walk away. She would have expected that sort of response, but seeing it materialize so immediately was, to her, upsetting. As she walks down the corridor, she is met with the same glare the guard gave her, this time from the boys and girls who will soon become her rivals. The girl knows very well why; she is not one of them, the Elites, nor will she ever be. The reason is that she comes from the circus. She is not accepted inside their circles, for that reason. The whispers accumulate, like tornado picking up debris or a fire gaining more fuel.

She does her best to ignore them (not too bad, in that respect) and walks down the corridor. Her pause in front of the audition chamber suggest one of many things; regret. The girl is forcing herself to do this, for reasons she doesn't even know. One could assume that she was tempted to join the Elites, but this is something she would deny automatically. More likely, one would also guess that she is trying to do something with her life. As she knows very well, she cannot live with the circus forever. Perhaps this year may be the year. No, that's too optimistic, she thinks to herself, I won't win, I can't win. But, I could try.

With one last breath, she opens the door.

The next day, I join the other circus performers and we head to the square as a pack. I assume it's harder to make fun of us "carnies" when we're all there at the same time. Most of the adults join us too, for two reasons. One, they want to give us support; us children will need it where we can get it. Two, since selection is a holiday in Four, it gives them a chance to perform for a few extra tips.

Once we get to the square, we spread out amongst the different ages, but still trying to keep together where we can. I split off from my roommate, since she is sixteen and I am fifteen, but keep next to another girl named Lan, who does the tightrope act. We're not friends, per se, but you really want support from them considering that we have no other family.

After we settle into the crowd, I prepare for the normal routine. You see, I've taught myself to phase out my surroundings when I have to, especially during the boring Joo Dee speeches. I do a pretty good job, if I say so myself. But the next time I look up, I see Lan's eyes fill to the brim with tears as she looks at me.

Oh no, I think, someone from our circus' been reaped.

But as I turn to look at the other acrobats with the crowd, I realize that everyone is looking at me. Friends and enemies alike, they are all staring at me, for one reason. I've been reaped.

No, god no!

I spin around frantically, like a caged animal, as the world closes in on me. They step closer, or perhaps that's only what it seems like in my disoriented mind.

No, this isn't real. It's only a dream. In a few moments, you'll wake up, and everything will get back to normal.

But, that blessed relief I hope for never comes. My legs begin to move forward, without me, in spite of me. As I stand up on the stage and as the crowd cheers (and jeers) for me, the panic ends. Unfortunately, fear sets in instead.

Get a grip, Ty Lee. Think like an Elite. Act like an Elite.

Almost pathetically, I try to mask all the emotions surging through me like a tsunami by waving and smiling, in the signature haughty fashion that the other Elites do so well. Only my eyes convey what I am really thinking right now. I scan the crowd and find Katsumi a few yards or so away from the stage. I lock eyes with her and see several distinguished tear streaks make their way down her face. In a single look, I deliver what is probably my final message to her.

Stay strong. And, work on that Russian bar.

Author's Note: Sorry, I really went overboard with this first set of reapings. Anyways, here's your first good look at the Element Games tributes. I hope I did a good enough job of portraying them. I'm pretty sure I made a lot of plot errors and loopholes, so I'll try to answer them next time. As always, please review!