Question from Iacopo: Imagine: a woman is convinced by Cara Corduroy to leave her husband. The husband is upset and figures the Corduroys are suspicious and turns them in. What happens?
Answer: Nothing serious, because the peacekeepers won't risk a riot to give a random man vengeance. If he had solid proof, then that'd be something else. The Corduroys are wealthy and influential enough in Creneis that they are already watched anyway. This is Achlys, not Snow. People can hate the Capitol all they want as long as they don't act or aren't too loud about their opinions. Rebellion is about what you do, not what you think (not yet^^).
Berle survived to see 18 for similar reasons. The idea is to give just enough freedom and leniency to keep people tame without needing two hundred peacekeepers in a town of 5 thousand. The rebellion was barely a decade before, the Capitol can't afford a new war.
The first part is pretty awful, the second much more lighthearted. I didn't have internet this weekend, hence the late update. As usual a big thank you to my reviewers, you boost me when my timetable gets too full. (I'd probably be catching up on Doctor Who otherwise instead of writing after work.)
Date: Year Ten, September, a year after Mags' victory.
Lieutenant Falx stepped forward.
The crowd went silent.
The streets leading into the main square were blocked by peacekeepers and over four thousand sun-tanned faces were turned towards the gibbets.
White wood. The platform of death stood out in every weather.
Facing the crowd and flanked by her guard, Mags locked eyes with her mother, so austere in her black dress. Her unwavering glare and rigid stance that reminded Mags to stand straight.
"Do you have an authorization, Mr. Gemini?"
Ajax's voice had the effect of a cold gale. Mags slowly turned around.
"Of course," Lucian said. "I was sent to provide a factual report on the event. I have never seen an execution." His silver whiskers trembled with indecent excitement. The camera in his vest almost made him look muscled.
Mags quieted the sarcastic voice that seemed to rise in her whenever she dealt with Capitolites. Lucian was clad in a rather subdued maroon suit and had made no move to disrupt the execution. She would not let his presence affect her.
Lieutenant Falx was standing in front of the four gibbets, a hand on the device around his ear.
"In this year one hundred and nine of the New United Republic, in the name of Her High Mightiness, the President of Panem and Protector of its People, Evadne Achlys, I stand here today to deliver justice. May the assembled citizen of Creneis Town and Sickleport bear witness."
"It is very similar to the style of address used by George Washington when he was sworn in as the first President of the United States in 1789 of the old calendar," Lucian commented dryly. "Critics charged that it smacked of monarchy. No one said anything when Mrs. Achlys reinstated it to 'mark a renewal in the longstanding tradition of democracy of this country'."
Mags might have laughed had six young men and women about to be executed had not stood before her.
"Genny Foster, twenty-two year old female, Sickleport," the aging Lieutenant announced in a loud monotone. "Calder Hill, twenty-one year old male, Sickleport, Dylan Espino, twenty-one year old male, Creneis, and Mareen Duckworth, eighteen year old female, Creneis. Accused of destruction of property of the State and sedition, sentenced to death by hanging."
The platform creaked.
Clad entirely in black, his uniform clashing violently with the immaculate white of the platform, the Giant stepped forward. It was said the man was a special kind of peacekeeper who travelled from District to District, ready to answer Death's call. Masked and broad as three men, he could walked hunched and yet never have to look up at any man.
Mags found herself stepping behind Lucian, wishing she were invisible, hidden from a creature capable of breaking her with a single breath.
The Giant's hair-raising, and all too well-known, gravelly voice, rumbled across the square. The terrible traditional words echoed on every stone and building.
"The menace that hovers over Panem is faceless. You forfeited individual rights once you chose to defy the laws of our motherland. You will die faceless."
Black masks were slipped over the heads of the condemned. The four didn't move, their eyes lifeless and their arms limp by their sides. They stumbled forward when the Giant grabbed their arms and placed them behind the ropes that would mark their ends.
Silent and beaten. The condemned always were. Mags couldn't remember ever having heard so much as a plea or a desperate escape attempt. A long time suspicion darkened her face.
The corpses were still swinging gently when Lieutenant Falx called the rest of the condemned, his composure much too relaxed for a man who summoned death with every word.
"Dover Nelson, eighteen year old male, Creneis, and Berle Hook, seventeen year old male, Creneis. In her great benevolence the President will grant one of you a second chance."
Berle and Dover were in chains, their expressions murderous. Mags' suspicion turned into a certainty. Genny, Calder, Mareen… all those unchained docile men and women who had passed beyond on the White Platform, had been drugged before being executed. Dozens of rebels and criminals, all so quiet in the face of death... It had to be drugs.
"One of you may purge his sentence by volunteering for the eleventh Hunger Games."
Berle's harsh laughter cut through the chorus of sudden whispers.
The scarred boy turned to Mags. "Your idea, or does Trashlys really need to get a life?"
He barely winced when the nearest peacekeeper backhanded him for such disrespect.
"You will save a life," Mags said, her voice hoarse. "And you have shown an aptitude to destroy that can only help."
"It is no Game," Berle said with a sneer. He spread his dirty arms wide, embracing the crowd. "I come to my death with my head held high instead of living in shame and cowardice. Wolves are bad for the shepherds and their dogs, but bad news, guys," he shouted, turning to the peacekeepers, "wolves roam, and they'll get you. You'll grow fat and complacent and we'll get you, no matter how much you want us turned into sheep. I-"
A kick to the stomach put an end to his passionate speech. He fell to his knees, his stomach heaving in protest.
His whole body screaming for vengeance, Berle took a swipe at the nearest peacekeeper. A boot crushed his back. The young man cried out, his chest touching the ground.
"Your kind's bark is always worse than their bite," Falx said, disgust etched in his lined features. "Berle Hill, accused of sedition, incitement to sedition, and destruction of property," he declared. "Death by whipping."
Mags' heart quickened. That was not planned. Hangings were quick, impersonal, but whippings… It had taken the Games to replace her nightmares of the previous ones. A scowl entered her face, and when her eyes fell back on Falx, she saw something foul.
Tentacles. They had power, no matter their claims. They were responsible. It was Falx, not Achlys, who had decreed this whipping.
"I'll volunteer." Dover said quickly, his eyes on the Giant as the massive executioner picked Berle up as if he weighted nothing.
The Giant fastened Berle's chains to the ring on the rightmost gibbet pole. Mareen's shoes were almost caressing the wheezing boy's face.
"You will be doing community service until the Games are held," Falx said. "It'll toughen you up."
"Would the Capitol not prefer a trained tribute for their entertainment?" Dover dared hoarsely, the beginning of a challenging, insolent smile on his lip.
Mags' felt an old vindictive flame rise inside her. Age had told her of the futility of such actions, but the war child thrived on defiance and hope.
Falx's eyes narrowed, but Alaric had already escorted the ashen Dover off the platform.
"Berle Hill, hold your head high," the peacekeeper officer said, "or truly, you'll have failed every step of the way."
It took a well-placed elbow from Marquise to make Mags realize how obvious her outrage and disgust were. The young woman ground her teeth, forcing her features to reveal nothing while her mind screamed at the government-sanctioned criminals for whom freedom was a jest and equal rights a heresy.
Berle shook as he forced his abused back straight, and gifted the crowd with his broadest smile. "You're nothing, old man. You'll die nothing, and one day, we'll break free! I swear, I –"
Crack.
The bullwhip uncoiled, an extension of the Giant's arm.
Crack.
Red droplets stained the white wood. Berle couldn't face the crowd anymore. His smile was but a memory. His black shift was torn, his bloodied shoulders braced for the next blow.
Crack.
Braver men had screamed earlier. Berle's voice broke, tearing at their ears.
Crack.
Mags averted her eyes.
Crack.
She snapped her head back up, scalded by a vicious thought.
If she couldn't look, she who had lived the Games, than who would stand this? Dylana had been right. Berle was a symbol, and their symbol was whimpering, drowning slowly in his own blood.
The words burst from her lips. "Lieutenant, it was my academy he burned. May I finish delivering the sentence?"
The Giant's wrist twisted and the whip cracked in the air instead of against Berle's flesh. Without awaiting the stunned Lieutenant's orders, the executioner stepped aside and offered the young woman the bullwhip.
The Giant's frame hid whole sky from view. Mags couldn't breathe.
Hazel. Through his mask, the Giant's eyes were hazel. Like Glynn's, like Bianca's, like old Riviero Gibbs and so many others. The Giant was human. Mags' hand tightened over the offered weapon, filled with sudden energy.
Hazel. A myth had been vanquished. There was nothing left to fear.
The victor had no experience with bullwhips, but she had seen a large dog killed in a single strike to the neck. It was a matter of 'failing' to aim.
Her surroundings faded into nothingness, only her, Berle, and the weapon that would free him.
Crack.
Berle's scream was muffled as the air was knocked out of his lungs with more force than the Giant had ever applied.
The noise brought reality crashing down.
Mags' vision swam and for a second, she thought she would faint.
What the hell was she doing? Her hands began to tremble. Her arm brought the whip down on its own.
Crack.
Softer, much softer than the first impact, and yet Mags' eyes blurred and she stumbled once more.
Why had she demanded the right to kill a man? Her lips bled as she struggled not to let out a scream of her own.
She had to do this. The neck. The rope had to hit the bones. A quick glance at the two welts she had caused was all it took for her to adjust her position.
The length of leather and rope uncurled, whistling through the air with a force born of desperation.
Crack.
Screams so loud that Mags had to bite her lips harder to make sure they weren't hers.
Crack!
Not a sound.
Berle Hill was dead.
The Giant pried the whip from her numb fingers. Mags couldn't move. What had she done?
Alaric and Indra put what had maybe been Creneis' fiercest rebel in a bag before Marquise had finished leading Mags back to Lucian's side. In another context, the amber-haired young woman could have appreciated that such swift removal of unsightly bodies was uncommon, but Berle's screams had erased her ability to notice such details.
"Thank you, that was pretty awful as it was," Lucian said with a wince, "he would have survived thirty lashes at the executioner's rate."
"That was the idea," Mags murmured, white as a sheet. What had she done? What had possessed her to speak out? Her arm muscles spasmed. Crack. The extended whip, the recoil on flesh and bone. Crack. her hand was empty, the whip stored away and yet her ears rung and her hand burned from the contact of chafing rope.
"Breathe, girl," the escort said, apprehension tingeing his annoyed tone. "If you didn't have the stones for it, you shouldn't have volunteered to be their guardian angel. Do better by those kids than you did by the tributes."
Mags slowly raised her head, her tortured thoughts replaced by white-hot anger. Her hands shook as she took a step towards that rude little man.
One word, one more word and she would kill him.
"Restrain her before she pulls a Mordred," Lucian said with an eye roll.
"Miss Mags, the children." Marquise's iron grasp on her arm painfully reminded her of where she was. Of what she still had to do.
"Opal Sandler, thirteen year old female, Creneis and Mako Sandler, eleven year old male, Creneis," Falx said, oblivious to the commotion to his right. "You are accused of passive sedition and assistance to criminals. Under the law, you are to be sentenced to thirty lashes of whip."
The siblings were shivering in terror, their faces bloodless and creased. They had not been told they would not be hurt.
Marquise had the wisdom not to let go of Mags' arm.
"But our victor suggested a solution better suited to the needs of this country."
Yes, I am just that awesome. I get children exiled and forced into a profession they detest instead of killed. And adults killed quickly instead of slowly. Mags feared her stomach would rebel.
"Opal, Mako, come here," she said, too drained to put on more of a show that was necessary.
Despite having just murdered a man before them, she didn't have to ask twice.
Her arms went around the trembling children's shoulders and she turned to face the crowd, finding strength in the brave young souls who calmed down in her protective embrace.
"You won't be whipped, avoxed or executed. There are forces who seek for all of Panem to grow up misguided. It is therefore the duty of every man and woman to serve to the fullest of their capacities, to ensure that all grow to become respectable citizen." She paused, forcing breath into her lungs. "To compensate for the shortage of security in Panem, a new peacekeeper training facility has opened in Galene. You will both start training there when Mako turns fourteen."
Mags had rarely felt so exhausted.
Her announcement caused an uproar.
The crowd did not quieten for a full minute despite the calls to order. They had never heard of the decision the unofficial council of Galene had taken four months before and were now presented with the accomplished fact. They would never know of the long hours Mags had spent drafting the plan of a hiring system that mixed workers from Galene with the laborers from Two to boost employment and productivity. They only knew that Four was that much more in the Capitol's grasp.
"In the meantime," she continued. Lieutenant Falx signaled her to stop talking. She grudgingly obeyed, her hold on Opal and Mako tightening.
"You will move with your immediate family there, and until the center is finished you will work to see it complete, paid like the other workers. You will both train as peacekeepers and dedicate your life to preserving the hard won peace you had thought to disrupt. Your family will be permitted to move back when you reach majority." Falx's eyes narrowed. "You are responsible for the way your children are brought up."
Mags winced. The Sandlers had been supposed to stay in Creneis until the peacekeeper school was complete.
She inhaled deeply. It could have been worse. Keep telling yourself that.
She couldn't meet her mother's eyes.
Date: Year Ten, October, 14 months after Mags' victory.
Capitol-approved education did not promote critical thinking, on the contrary, prejudice was encouraged. Prejudice against strangers, against the other Districts... Anything to reduce the risk of cooperation between the oppressed. Even jealousy towards Capitolites was encouraged, for hate was better than having peasants believe themselves equals to the ruling class. Nevertheless, uneducated did not rhyme with stupid: everyone in Creneis knew Mags had spared Berle a terrible drawn out death.
But they couldn't meet her eyes.
She'd never had so many people apply to work for her, even those who had a stable, equally paid, job, but they went through her mother, Glynn, Esperanza or even her peacekeeper guard, seldom through her. It was the strangest feeling, having the support of the community and yet seeing every day the fear she sparked in their downcast eyes.
Marlin had joked about how she had replaced the Giant in the people's minds, his smile strained and his cheeks reddening, as if he couldn't believe his own nerve, leaving Mags to feel even more lost than before.
What was she then? A benevolent executioner?
Esperanza was by far the most unfazed, and sometimes Mags worried about her sister's unconditional devotion, but with even Cara Corduroy taking her distance and Marquise staring at her as if she'd sprouted wings whenever she thought Mags wasn't watching, the young woman couldn't put into words how much her family's support meant to her.
Which was why she couldn't help but feel unsettled by the way Oliver Blackpool seemed to never leave her side. He'd left his job in the farms, her mother's old accounting job, for one in constructions, where he managed the stocks, and, despite the number of more experienced workers he could address, he kept seeking Mags out whenever he had a question. Mags hadn't minded at first, on the contrary, it had been a wonderful excuse to finally learn more about the tasks she paid people to do and to appear less remote by working silently among them, but now it was making her uncomfortable.
Her eyes darted to where the curly-haired young man was directing workers. Oliver had switched his shift with Zale Tempest, and was coincidentally working exactly where she was for the afternoon. Like almost every day.
Oliver followed her everywhere. His professional friendliness had been welcome, now it was suspicious.
"Miss Abalone?"
Mags was torn from her musings by a curt baritone. She blinked dust out of her eyes, appalled not to have heard the two men reach her. What kind of example did she set by daydreaming?
"I have a challenge for you, m'Lady," the middle-aged man before her said, his expression very grave. "And that's finding a stable job for a boy too good for honest labor. If I didn't know better, I'd say my wife made cozy with the neighbor nineteen years back, cause he's as lazy as a pole when he gets stubborn." Mags' eyes flickered to the familiar ash-blonde boy rolling his eyes behind his father's back. "May I present you my youngest child, Caspian. I believe you've met."
Caspian, lazy? Mags stared, baffled. The boy who had gotten the lighthouse fixed after a year of pitch darkness?
"Yes, yes, he's wonderful," the white-haired man huffed, with a knowing wry smile, "Now try to make him work when the reward isn't him being a district-wide hero. You'll tell me about it."
"Honest, Dad," the eighteen year old muttered, unable to hide his embarrassment.
"Have fun, Son," Caspian's father said, giving him an affectionate pat on the back. His eyes narrowed. "And don't quit this time."
Mags chuckled as the man left, his bearing all too regal for a place like Creneis. "You're lazy?"
"Yes. I'd rather eat less than work on stuff I hate," Caspian said, his arms crossed as he scowled at his father's retreating form.
"I'll find fun stuff for you then," Mags promised, willing herself not to smile lest she offend him. She didn't have to think at all. "There is too much to do for my mother and I to oversee everything. You've proven yourself already, and surely you know who to recruit. The sewers need to be secured, cleared and in some places rebuilt, the overflows during heavy rains are starting to threaten the houses."
Caspian's eyes narrowed at the challenge. "That's not work for the winter, but we could get the material shipped and establish what exactly must be done and where, and with who, before the spring. As well as unclog the worst places."
"Is that saving the world enough?" Mags teased.
Caspian reddened once more. "Oh, don't listen to Dad. He's such a comedian that he must have some Capitol blood in him."
Mags cracked a smile at his grumpy tone. "Come with me, I have partial equipment for installing electricity and the water and gas pipes. I have been thinking about which walls to crack first and where to install power to facilitate the work. I'd use the portable lanterns to start a night shift while it's still warm, but I need to calculate whether we'll have enough batteries to get through the winter and I know we can't always count on electrical heating so I need to dig fire places too, but since the walls aren't all of equal depths and my knowledge on fire places is..." Mags' smile broadened as Caspian blinked owlishly.
"I know a guy who knows fireplaces," he offered.
"I'm all ears, Caspian."
What was marvelous about that boy was that he knew everyone. Mags had been planning to recruit him full-time for months, but as usual, the days were much to short to do even half of what she had planned.
Her stomach was the first to remind her that it was high time to get home, her sister was second. Dark blue clouds covered the sky, Mags signaled Marquise and Alaric, sitting fifteen yards away, that she was leaving.
"Do you want me to help you carry those away?" Oliver said, pointing at the small wheelbarrow Mags would cart back up to her house.
"Thanks, I'll be fine, Oliver," Mags replied with a polite smile.
Esperanza eyed her sister crossly, as if she'd committed a terrible social blunder.
"It's really no trouble," the young man replied. "It's okay, Caspian, I've got this."
Warm drizzle dripped down Mags' neck and exposed shoulders. She shivered, remembering another afternoon spent outside in such weather, seated with Kyle as Narissa drew their likenesses on canvas. A beautiful, painful portrait hidden from sight in protective cloth.
Her green eyes narrowed, betrayal rising inside her. She gave the expectant man a stiff smile, suddenly hating him. "You're kind, Oliver, but no. You should go home."
Oliver's jaw clenched slightly, but he moved away. "Have a nice evening," he said softly.
Mags didn't answer.
"Mags," Esperanza whispered. "What was that for? That was cold."
"I don't want him to get ideas because I kissed him while I was drunk. He's not been more than twenty yards away from me all week."
She didn't want Oliver Blackpool, nor anyone else. Everything was already complicated and dangerous enough without bringing a man into the mix. Mags couldn't see herself trusting someone like she had foolishly trusted Kyle, nothing was worth the price failure would demand of her and her loved ones, and him, she furiously added. She'd doubtless fall in love again one day, but she would deal with it when the time came.
"You are the best match to be made in town right now," Caspian said, standing two steps away as if he feared to upset her. "Seriously, who is there? Esperanza is a little young, Marina Bream will probably end up marrying Jett Corduroy, since they're the same age, get along well, and the mayor won't let his daughter marry someone poor. Glynn's rejected more people than I can count and hasn't dated since she got legal, the Brimlads' daughters are already dating, Jennifer is the eldest unmarried Crow and only fourteen, and Erwina Vintmoor has such a nasty temper and, well," Caspian's voice dropped in guilt, "an ugly face," he whispered, "that she turns the bravest of us off. Captains Griffin and Morgan have only sons or five-year-old daughters…"
Caspian's voice trailed off as he'd reached the end of his list. He gave Mags a small smile to make his point.
"I thought only Cara would know so much about matchmaking," Mags said, impressed as always by his intimate knowledge of the town. She had vowed to get to know everyone the year before, but it was far from done. "Besides, while there are only a handful of well-off families, there are a fair few who are far from starving. The Blackpools are not only that, but they number over two hundred and are tight-knit. Oliver can marry for love without risking his standard of living." She narrowed her eyes at Caspian. "If you ever flirt with me, I'm drowning you."
The boy raised his hands protectively. "I only like redheads."
"Redheads? We've got redheads in Creneis?" Esperanza said, scrunching her face up as she strained her memory. "Except Nautilus and his cousin Lorraine…"
Caspian nodded vigorously. "She's hot."
"She's married," the thirteen year old cried. "You're going to be single a long time Caspian if you stand there waiting for a redhead."
The boy shrugged and grinned. "Who needs a girl?
"Does Adrina count as a redhead?"
"Nah, she's blonde."
Esperanza huffed. "She's reddish-blonde, which is rare enough already, and she's nice!"
Caspian shrugged again. "So are many girls."
The youngest Abalone's face took a dangerous cast. She hated being thwarted.
"Leave him alone, Angel. He's got time," Mags said before the situation could devolve. "How's Cay?" She inquired, not too sure if this was a 'Cay is the greatest boy ever' or a 'he's so immature' period.
Esperanza frowned in confusion. "Who? Oh right, him," she said, her face scrunching up once more, this time in distaste. "Forget him, I sure have." She raised a finger, her mischievous smile lighting her face. "Save some nice job for Ford Gibbs, I want to get to know him better."
Who? Mags stifled a laugh. She'd probably need to have a talk with her sister.
And talking of matchmaking.
"You wanted to see me?" Glynn said, her face flushed from having jogged down to the building site.
"Yes," Mags said, "Glynn, I need you in Galene to make sure Opal and Mako leave with everything they need and find decent living conditions in Galene. I also need you to speak with a fourteen-, now fifteen-year-old called Adria. She wanted to volunteer last winter, I told her to come in October and she sent me a letter to remind me."
Glynn nodded, her eyes lighting up at the prospect of traveling. "I'll try to talk her out of it. Do you have a last name?"
Mags smiled, happy she didn't have to spell it out. She frowned when she realized she had no last name. "She had a brother, who is one year older than her, who was avoxed before my Games after an incident with a peacekeeper called Druze." Mags suddenly felt even stupider. "I can't recall his name –"
"It should be enough for me to find her, don't worry. I'll send letters and set up a schedule of interviews for Lycorias while I'm at it and since I didn't visit Galene last time, I'll see who I can bring back as potential students and teachers too."
Mags felt a pang of unease. She hadn't been asking for so much. "Won't you have enough to do…"
Glynn smirked in that oddly endearing patronizing way of hers. "I'm no martyr. I won't do more than I can handle."
Indeed not. Mags grinned at her friend.
"Can I come?" Caspian cut in. "I'll draft the plans for the sewers whenever I get free time. I'd love to see Galene."
So now Caspian was making his own timetable? Maybe his father had had a point.
"You'll never appreciate Creneis as much as after you've seen it," the victor said, a shadow crossing her face.
Poverty and death, hardly brightened by the rare solidarity which Mags had glimpsed between the citizen.
But, if Caspian wanted to go, he could only be an asset. Adult, he would be a unquestioned leader, and he was humble, patient and friendly where Glynn was brilliant, driven and authoritative. If they learned to work together, they would better Four without Mags needing to interfere.
"Of course," she turned to Glynn, "I had Marquise find appropriate guards for you."
People who wouldn't interfere.
"Depends," Glynn cut in with an expression so stern even Mags recoiled slightly. "This is not a holiday and everything must be planned perfectly. We will do this my way or not at all. If you can't accept that, you're out."
Mags shook her head ruefully. Glynn would be fully in charge whether she was accompanied or not.
"Okay," Caspian said, quick to regain his composure, "but you teach me how to make that stuff your dad cooked when I worked for your Ma."
Mags smiled. So Caspian had worked for Cara... No wonder he was so up to date on the best prospects in Creneis.
"Deal," Glynn said. "I think we'll get along just fine."
Caspian gave an indignant yelp when the older girl ruffled his hair.
Date: Year Ten, January, 17 months after Mags' victory
Mags had seen many people in the last months, people who admired her, people who feared her, people who wanted to use her and people who wished she had never been born. Saying that helping Dylana sort out the bad feelings left by the execution had been unpleasant was an understatement.
She hadn't been expecting to see Galon Vines. From the sudden shuffling behind her, neither had Marquise and Legend.
The former best friend of Berle and Mareen, a short lanky boy with a thin angular face, walked up to her, his step casual and relaxed.
"I'd better be on my very best behavior," he said with a mirthless crooked smile. "Make people forget…"
Some people had no shame. Mags' chest constricted. Galon's mere presence brought back terrible memories.
Crack.
It had yet to really fade.
"You know what baffles me?" She said, her teeth locked in mounting, irrational rage. "You're not scared of me. You come here certain I won't kick you out."
"You'll notice I'm here, but not Yarrow Fisher, not those guys. I told Berle that bitch from Sickleport was trouble." Galon's whole body stiffened. "We never cared that Berle was younger than us. He was a leader, he was cunning and never got caught. He wore the brand of insolence as a badge of honor, he was brave, Mags," Galon stressed, heat entering his voice as he threw the peacekeepers a wary but defiant glare. "But he was young, and I shouldn't have left him think he was responsible for us and everyone else. When he got an idea in his head, you couldn't get it out."
Galon crossed his arms, a wry smile on his face. "You scare me, Mags, but not in the way you think. You scare me because you're giving us jobs, education, 'cause eventually you'll get meteorology and water sanitation, and they listen to you when you want a punishment to be less harsh. What's the catch? Why has no one done it before? When will the bill hit us? But, I need a blank slate to live old enough to have kids and a home, so I'll go with the tide."
How practical yet lukewarm. But Mags couldn't demand they all be enthused. "You left Berle because you had issues with burning my house?"
"I left Berle because I got engaged and when you get a girl, you stop fooling around," Galon snapped. "Dreaming is nice when you're a kid, but dead bodies don't do nothing. And because burning your house felt rotten and insane, despite it being disgusting that you'd have such a big house like that."
That tore a dry chuckle from Mags' lips. Something about his priorities and his common jealousy reassured her. Townsfolk, the way she expected them to be.
"You're young, fit and apparently sane," she said, "We'll find something."
Marquise cleared her throat. "Pumping the sewers. He deserves it. He's still insolent and behaves as if we're deaf." Her blue eyes narrowed in warning. "Boy, I'm not your friend. Watch your tongue, I'm not covering for you."
"I'll think about it, Galon," Mags said, her tone making clear the conversation was over.
She shot Marquise a worried glance. Had Ajax told her she was being too lenient? Had it something to do with Alaric not being paired with her so often now? If Marquise was being threatened in anyway... Or maybe Mags was underestimating Legend and his own loyalty to the Capitol...
Suddenly, she lost all wish to talk.
The sun was setting when she had finished showing the first arrivals, future teachers from Lycorias to their new temporary quarters in the West Wing, and the only -barely- inhabitable part, of the academy. A smile danced on her lips, her conversation with Galon forgotten. It couldn't have gone better.
She lengthened her strides, a small frown creasing her forehead when she saw Dylana waiting for her on the grass.
"Hi, Dee," she said, her eyes falling on the new phoenix tattoo on the girl's shoulder blade. Between that and the short-cropped hair, Dylana was turning into a completely different person. Physically at least.
And she should really be covering her shoulders, it was cold.
The brown-haired girl jumped to her feet. "So did you give him a job or a whack on the head?"
Mags snorted lightly. Of course Galon had first gone through Dylana...
"How are you, Dee?"
"Surprised to have seen nineteen with all my limbs attached. Wasn't easy, but it seems they've found other bones to pick. Can't believe those pricks finally realized everyone got off easy. Yarrow's dating again. He thinks it bothers me, whereas I'm just relieved, trust me. I'm done with that black and white world now. Never thought I'd have it in me to be a sailor, but I love it."
Dylana's frail health had always been a problem. With a pinch of Capitol medication, she had been able to quit assistant jobs and finally fulfill her childhood's dream to join a crew, just like her late mother had. It had done wonders for Dylana's general disposition.
Mags wished she had looked into it much earlier, even though she knew the girl would have thrown the medicine right back at her the year before.
"It also pisses me off, and I think Gina's a fake attention-seeker." Dylana huffed in disgust. "Who wears so much makeup at fourteen? But that's besides the point. Is Caspian free?"
The other's bluntness made Mags' eyebrows shoot up. Her lips curled into a small smile. "Dye your hair red if you want a chance."
Dylana's eyes widened comically. Then she shrugged. "Worth a try. Thanks for the tip."
"Caspian?"
"Hardworking, smart, kind, sexy after a fashion, funny, popular and safe, why should I look anywhere else.?"
Oh this was going to be fun. Especially with Glynn now fancying herself his older sister. Caspian had better not be a rebound...
Date: Year Eleven, April, 20 months after Mags' victory.
The darkness was absolute.
As was the silence.
The wind had died sometime during the night, the dry air sizzled with energy. Mid-morning and yet not even the bravest men had dared set sail. Power was always scarce after the winter and the lighthouse was only lit to guide the sailors out at dawn and back home in the evenings.
Rumbling noises soon reached from the horizon, and Creneis town took a fearful collective breath. This was no regular lightning storm.
"Biscuit?"
"Shush, Jett," Glynn said, "You might not see another one like it."
"Please," Marquise said, giving Glynn's little brother a brilliant smile.
Mags smothered an indulgent grin. Whether it was some odd jealousy or just honest incompatibility of character, Marquise delighted in annoying Glynn. Luckily the auburn-haired girl ignored her, which was probably what annoyed Marquise in the first place, Mags thought, amused.
"Well the morning's ruined, we might as well enjoy our free time," the victor said, taking a biscuit for herself as lightning bolts began to cross the horizon.
Distant rumbling reached their ears.
"Dad, tell them they'll be kicked out if they can't be quiet," Glynn said. "If the beauty of it is too abstract for you, pretend."
"Quiet," Nereus Corduroy said, his stern tone belied by a smile.
Esperanza giggled. She gulped when Glynn gave her a withering glare.
There was something disquieting in the dark clouds, as if the darkness outside forced you to look within. Mags fidgeted, hating how vulnerable the silence made her feel. It's just a storm. But the air she breathed in was heavy, and she crossed and uncrossed her legs, her irrational fear of closed spaces resurfacing. The wait was unbearable, the quiet too intense.
"Should I get back together with Al?" Marquise whispered.
Mags almost sighed in relief. She couldn't explain her febrile state, but it was much too real.
"You never were 'together'. You were each other's best pick in a small town with few prospects. You'll be back together as soon as you get frustrated enough. He's rotating in four months, make the best of it," Glynn said, her speech quick and brisk. "Now, if you want to chat, Marlin doesn't live far away."
"It's not just for the sex," Marquise protested, reddening at the offense.
No, but mostly. Marquise and Alaric did many things together, but weren't that close. Mags had to admit being glad of that, for the two peacekeepers had very different conceptions of their duty to the Capitol.
"Look outside," Glynn's father said, wrapping his arm around his eldest.
Light. Crisscrossing the sky in one pure, ephemeral river of sizzling energy. The storm had come.
Barely had they taken a breath when a blast the eerie silence.
Mags bolted upright, a silly reflex born of a deep-rooted hate of canon blasts. The others' eyes remained riveted on the shower of electricity pouring over the ocean.
Lightning forks dove into the ocean, thunder shocks overlapped, louder and louder, tearing through the skies, granting no rest to their screaming ears. The skies were so clear she could see the shells clinging to the hulls of the moored boats on the beach below.
The dry storm was upon them.
"Was the lightning rod repaired?" Jett shouted through the din.
Before Mags could shake her head, the portraits on the shelves clattered to the floor. The windows shook from the force of the strike. A second blinding light assaulted their eyes.
Mags couldn't breathe.
Lightning rod. Metal. Thirty foot high metal scaffolding covered the almost finished West-wing and the main gates of the academy.
Panic overcoming reason, the nineteen-year-old rushed out of the house.
She prayed people had stopped working when the skies had darkened beyond measure. Not her academy.
"Are you insane?" Marquise screamed, the only one fast enough to keep up with her. "Get back inside, it could start hailing at any moment! Get -"
Mags stopped dead.
The scaffolding had melted at the top. Hundreds of pounds of metal twisted like dark wax.
Adria and Dover stood at the bottom of the gates, clutching at each other. Tall wooden gates now striated with black, a bolt of lightning forever burned on the front.
"There, the storm has move on, no one died. Relax, Mags, you're freaking me out," Marquise said, panting from the desperate sprint they'd done.
Mags didn't need anyone to freak herself out at the moment. "Are you alright?" She gasped, running up to the two future tributes.
There really had been nothing to do with Adria... At least the dual training would have her and Dover be the solidest alliance ever formed.
The older boy, who worked for free clearing the mess made by the construction works during the day to be allowed to train in the evenings, limped towards her, holding his arm. A shimmering tree-like pattern went from his shoulder down to his fingers.
"I shoved the gates open with my shoulder, a little too late," he said with a grimace. "It's okay, I can move."
By then, onlookers had formed a large circle around the two and the other, unharmed, people coming out of the gates. Whispers of lightning children, of signs and portents. Dover's scar was the center of all attention.
"Lightning strikes those the spirits love most. Lucky the child reborn from a storm," an old woman cried joyfully.
Mags shook her head at the last, sadness bowing her neck. Dover had volunteered out of fear of imminent death, yes, but also because his twin was eligible just one more time and, with him volunteering, he was sure Samson would be safe and able to pay off his family's debts by signing up for the maximum of tesserae. Dover would need more than luck to make it.
"Lightning rod," Jett Corduroy laughed, his voice weak from relief, "you weren't kidding when you said 'multi-purpose'."
"The Stormborn," Esperanza said, her grin spreading out to her ears. "It's epic."
"A little too epic," Mags said with a slight wince, "they're not going to take us seriously –"
"Shut up, Big Sis. People need epic. It's a symbol, and this one will last."
"I agree with Esperanza," Glynn said with a wry smile. "Don't go for subtle, it'd be wasted. Four's Learned Academy for Success and Happiness. It smacks so much of propaganda I may faint."
F.L.A.S.H. A smile cracked Mags' face. People would remember that name.
And, hopefully, the Capitol wouldn't see them coming.
The second part turned into 'who's dating who' more than I had planned. But hey, dating and later having a family is a major preoccupation of district people between the ages of 14 and 25. ;D
Yes, George RR Martin invented the title 'Stormborn' long before I did. I won't rip dragons off him, I promise. I tried to get an acronym for S.H.I.E.L.D but it didn't fit. Anyhow, as you can guess by how postponed the naming was, it's not something I'm strong at. Academy in Creneis for Excellence (ACE) was a runner up but it felt forced and just wasn't cheesy enough. Lol, bear with me, I've been writing this chapter almost exclusively at night, so I'm a little high.
Please review.^^