Thalassa Pearl, D4

"Ronan. Ronan, look." Thalassa helped him lift his head to look up towards the sky where they were showing the faces. "It was Ruben. He's dead." Ronan laughed once, but it sounded strained, coarse. He wasn't doing well.

"Now I just need to hold on until the others kill themselves off, and we can go home." He said, before another bout of coughing cut him off. Thalassa held back the tears. She didn't want to lose him, but she knew that the finale would force her to abandon him to fight. It seemed like a hopeless dream to go home with Ronan.

"Yeah," she said, "You just need to hold on."

Paxton Luke, D2

"Jackie?" Paxton was worried. He had woken up this morning and his sister was nowhere to be found. He'd spent all morning looking for her, and nothing. A cannon wouldn't have gone off if she was dead, so he had no way of knowing if she was alive or not. "Jackie!"

"Paxton?" It wasn't Jaclyn's voice that had called his name, but he'd know the owner anywhere. He spun in place to look for her, but she wasn't there.

"Elle?" He called.

"Paxton?" Her voice, it was coming from the west. Just over the hill. And sure enough, he saw through the trees. She had her bow in hand, but it wasn't aimed at anything. She hadn't seen him yet, so he called her name again. She looked down, and Paxton was happy to see her smile.

Elle ran down the hill. She dropped her weapons at the base and jumped into him. Paxton held her tight to his chest, never wanting to let her go again.

"Why did you come back?" He asked. She seemed so mad before when she left him.

"I found the note that the mentors sent. Remember that last line. It said 'stay together'. I think… I think the mentors knew something like this would happen. I don't think that was really Royce. I have to hope that Royce is still safe in the Capitol somewhere." Paxton released her.

"But how? Sorry, but how could that have been anyone other than Royce?"

"The big thing I've learn here in the arena is this. The Capitol plays tricks. I think they might have tried to break us, and our alliance, apart. Television, you know?" Paxton forced a small laughed, but now he was nervous. And Elle saw that.

"What's wrong?"

"Jaclyn's here." He said.

"Jaclyn? Your sister?" Paxton nodded. "I'm not going to say it isn't really your sister, Paxton, but be careful. Where is she?"

"Not here. I can't find her. I woke up and she was just gone. At this point, I'm hoping you're right about this being a trick, because I don't think I could stand to lose her." He saw the sad look that took place in Elle's eyes. He had to be careful about what he said from now on until he found out about Royce and Jaclyn.

Damien Greyson, D9

Damien froze in place, motioning for Sloan to do the same.

"What happened?" she asked in a hushed tone. Damien pointed to his ear, and then to a spot down below, just a ways away from their spot in the trees. It was a tribute, and through the dirt that caked his shirt, he saw a color he hadn't seen in a while. Light purple. He sorted through the districts in his head, trying to narrow down which district this boy could belong to. It came down to either Three or Eight, and district Three had no more living tributes in the arena. That left Eight. There were so many careers still left, it nearly pained Damien to jump from the tree.

The boy from Eight was armed. He had a small sword. Damien managed to get a good swing to his leg, but the boy managed a blow to Damien's shoulder. He dropped his weapon. This boy was going to kill him. Damien wouldn't make it home. And of course, who would be there now to keep Sloan from getting into trouble.

But then Damien was knocked backward. Sloan had jumped from the tree, driving her knife into the boy's lower back. She'd fallen off of him and into Damien, causing both of them to call out in pain. Damien's shoulder was bleeding badly, and he was sure Sloan had re hurt her already wounded arm. Despite the pain, Damien forced himself to pull Sloan away from the other tribute. His breath looked strained, but a final effort to take them out might still be possible from him.

It took a minute for his breathing to slow, to shallow. Another before he stopped moving. And finally another two before the cannon rang out. He'd been fighting hard against death, trying to stay alive. Damien pulled out his old shirt from his bag.

"I'm going to run out of shirt trying to keep us alive." He laughed, ripping more strips of fabric from the torn shirt. He bandaged Sloan's arm again, and then handed her the rest of the fabric, telling her how to wrap his wound to stop the bleeding. It wasn't the best job, but it would have to do for now. They were out of fabric.

Damien helped Sloan move into a comfortable spot on the ground for the night. He was in agonizing pain from his shoulder, but Sloan didn't need to know. He told her to rest, so that she could keep watch that night.

Wayland Hightower, Head Gamemaker

"Sir, we're down to eight." called Garius. "Shall we start rounding them up?"

"Yes," said Wayland. "Bring them to the Cornucopia."

The Fallen

Carsander Amell, District Eight. Killed by Sloan.

Eight Tributes left! Who will be the Victor(s)? Sorry for taking so long on this update. Also sorry for the shortish chapter, but it was all I could manage before I left for work. What did you guys think?

Also, new cover art. A self-drawn digital portrait of Thalassa.

Please, please review. :)

- Sarah