Epilogue

Tatiana Emery, 15, District 2

My thumbs nervously twiddle together, sitting here in the President's palace, outside of her office.

They fixed up all my injuries in a heartbeat like they were nothing and then the next few days just went by. The crowning… the interview- it wasn't the same with all the chaos that has descended on the country.

But now that we're in control of the Capitol, the Districts will follow soon.

I never knew victory could feel so anticlimactic. I don't really know why that is? It can't be the fact that the girl from Seven escaped the arena during the whole chaos of what was going on outside, can it?

Was it the fact that watching the recap, I knew so much of it had been edited? The editor was effective, I'll give 'em that – but Marissa killing Franz? I can go with that, but making her the Storm agent instead of me? What was the point of that? It destroys all my accomplishments. What are they up to now? When will they trust me with information?

Although, I never cared for the Hunger Games, really. Just for Saskia and making her proud. I… sincerely hope I've done that.

And now it's finished. She's President and I'm the victor and we've managed to rally thousands behind our cause. So why do I feel so empty?

The voice of a Capitolite cuts my thoughts from my head.

"The President will see you now."

I glance up at the person in front of the ornate double doors, standing above me, and send them a nod.

Taking a deep breath, I proceed carefully inside Saskia's office. There she is. Standing by her unnecessarily gigantic desk. The room itself is huge with sparkling furniture, and behind red curtains are large oval windows that look out onto the gardens. Saskia is dressed more formally than I've ever seen her before – in a buttoned-up, dull overcoat, and with her usual wavy hair tied back in a bun. Her various scrapes and injuries are now gone thanks to cosmetics.

Her appearance, the office… it's all so far removed from that scruffy, wild girl I knew back in District Two. We used to have our meetings in a small, broken warehouse on the edge of the District and now we're here in this golden palace… It's just so overwhelming.

Swallowing back the sadness of nostalgia, my lip's part to speak.

"Madam President," I greet.

She playfully raises her eyebrows, dropping the serious expression that she had during the crowning.

"Tati, Tati, Tati… call me Saskia. We're not past the first name basis," she smiles.

I return the smile, feeling my body relax and unable to hide the strange feeling in my heart.

"Not bad for the youngest president in history, right?" she says, gesturing to herself. Her eyes then study me carefully. "I know something's been up with you ever since the crowning – come on, talk to me."

My arms brace my body weight on her desk and my head sinks down.

"Remember - I'm your friend first, mentor second," she continues.

"I just have so many questions," I sigh. "Why was the footage edited? We got what we wanted, didn't we? And…"

I pause.

"What happened to Conrad? He just disappeared beneath me! I heard no cannon. What is it with him, anyway? I hesitated to kill him at the end… again. I didn't hesitate to kill Marissa or even Franz… really," my voice suddenly breaks at the end, as saying his name invokes his memory.

I hope he's out there somewhere… watching the birds.

I'm about to continue my ramble - however, Saskia raises her hand to halt my onslaught of questions.

"Let me assure you – Conrad Martell is dead. We will not be hearing from that boy again," she answers. She sounds firm, but her eyes tell a different story - like she doesn't believe what she's saying. If he's truly dead, then why is there nobody? Am I just supposed to believe that he vanished under the earth?

"As for the rest – everything will be answered soon. Be patient," she continues, smiling warmly.

I breathe a slight sigh of relief, nodding my head. I suppose she's right? As usual, I'm torn. Does she even trust me? I won the Hunger Games for her. Haven't I earned explanations for everything? Then again, when has she ever given me a reason not to trust her?

However, I do have one final question that needs to be answered.

"What about my parents?" I ask, removing my hands from her desk. "They're part of the inner circle, t-they were supposed to be at my crowning," I stutter, my eyes sinking down. "I-I haven't even heard from them…"

I thought they'd be proud of me. Not only are they nowhere to be seen, but they also never even so much as sent a message. It just doesn't seem right.

Saskia breathes in and curls her lips, placing her arm around my shoulder as a friend.

"Come, we have a lot to discuss," she says, guiding me out of her office. "The most important thing you have yet to learn is that you can either be absorbed into the new world or face annihilation. Kate and her friends have chosen the latter, and so you, Tatiana, now have a very important part to play in all this."

I've never heard her talk this… formally before. No matter how hard she tries to hide it, she's changed. Together we head out of the palace and into the gardens, insects and birds buzzing around our heads in the sunshine. At the end of the stone path a black armored truck is waiting.

"Where are we going?" I question as I'm bundled into the back.

Of course, I receive no answer before I'm whisked away over the bouncing gravel. My fingers tighten in frustration. When will they start to trust me with information?

Inside, the truck is dark and hollow - meaning that there's no possible way for me to see where we're going.

I'm so helpless. Even more than I was in the arena. At least there I felt somewhat in control of my actions, my fate was in my own hands. Not anymore, now I'm just a pawn.

Eventually, the truck comes to a halt, and I find myself in the middle of the city, staring up at the largest tower I've ever seen. It is made almost entirely of glass, but the glass is black and dim, making what lies inside invisible.

Boots thud down on the concrete and Saskia leads me inside…

Everything is eerily silent and dark. Peacekeepers stand in line, grasping their guns, but these are wearing dark purple uniforms instead of white ones… purple as a violent storm. A line of Peacekeepers which leads all the way up to an elevator.

Once inside, Saskia presses the button for the very top floor.

It feels like the longest elevator ride of my life. Something about this building, the dark, the silence… it just sends an ice-cold shiver down my spine.

"Where are we?" I swallow - but still, I get no answer.

The elevator door pings open. We begin marching down another dark corridor. On my left, glass panels reveal a circular room. It's so white that the insides are reflected bright enough to shock my eyes.

However, what's inside shocks me even more! The survivor! The… the girl from Seven.

She is locked in tiny, glass tubes, bound in handcuffs and slouched down. She looks so pale. Dark bags line her eyes, and she appears extremely malnourished. Has she not been fed… like at all? We shared an arena together, but it was I who was denied a proper victory.

My hands… they curl into a fist for a fleeting moment. She escaped me. Stole my destiny. Franz didn't get that right, nor did Marissa. A small part of me wants to put that right.

Around her, in other glass prisons are various scruffy-looking people of different ages and sizes. Rebels, well… counter rebels. They all look as malnourished as Darrah.

"What will happen to them?" I gulp, skipping forward to catch up with Saskia. She shifts her eyes to me momentarily but soon faces forward again, never breaking pace.

"He has something special in mind for them – not unlike you," she answers, monotone.

"He?"

We halt outside another office at the very end of the corridor.

Saskia turns to me. "The Elder. He has requested to speak with you."

The Elder? My mind flashes back, producing the image of that mysterious, cloaked man in the darkness of the dining room in my parents' house. I've never spoken to him, never seen him since that fateful night. Now he wants to talk to me?

Butterflies fill my stomach, uncontrollably. I inhale to speak - however Saskia immediately cuts me off.

"When you're inside. Only speak when spoken to and face forward at all times," she orders.

And without a second to even think about it, like I'm a machine, I'm inside the large metal door.

The sound of it bolting behind me rings through the room and shakes my heart. My head twitches back to the noise until I remember what Saskia said.

The room feels so… large and empty even though I can barely see an inch in front of me because it's shrouded in darkness.

A deep voice cuts into my mind.

"Congratulations on your victory, Tatiana Emery."

The Elder. I recognize his voice. Although now it seems more clear and less robotic than in my memory all these years. I can't tell which direction the voice is coming from, but I do as instructed and my eyes remain forward into the blackness.

"I know you are tired and have a lot of questions but unfortunately, we have no time for such things. We may have won the Capitol, but in order to attain our better tomorrow, we need all of Panem firmly on our side."

He pauses but when he speaks again, his voice is much closer and I'm suddenly aware that he is close behind me.

"You have already accomplished a lot, but your journey has only just begun. Your next task is the most important one of your life. You will be released as though you are a rebel who escaped from us, and you will infiltrate their headquarters – just like we slowly did to the Capitol."

My throat tightens as I hold back my emotions. So that's the reason for the editing of the footage of the game!

I've done everything for them, and they still want more? We overthrew the Capitol, but now I have to lie again and keep more secrets? I hate secrets, despite the fact that I've become good at keeping them. When will this end?

"When your final task is complete, you'll get everything you've ever wanted, Tatiana. Your ideas heard, your perfect world will come to fruition, all the answers you crave, and most importantly… a seat at the inner table."

My lungs feel tight. It's like he can read my mind. All I need is to complete one more task. My resolve has never faltered, and I don't plan on it starting now.

"I have faith that fortune will favour you. If you succeed, in the years to come, you will be the eventual replacement of Saskia as President."

My heart jumps in my chest! What?! My mind doesn't even begin to comprehend the ramifications of that before he continues.

"And no one will be able to tell you what to do ever again."

He's right. I've never liked people telling me what to do. Not even Saskia, truthfully.

"But… if you should fail and you are compromised…"

His wrinkly, ringed hand produces a thin vial, containing a thick, dark purple liquid, in front of me.

"You will drink from this vial and die for the cause, as many have done before you…"

I blink, and suddenly he is gone and I'm back outside in the lit corridor!

The door bolts behind me and I'm facing Saskia with the vial in my hand…

Kate Wakai, 18 Three days later - somewhere on the edge of District Seven

It's so quiet outside, except for the sound of cicadas humming in the evening air. It surely doesn't reflect the chaos currently enveloping the country.

The order is destroyed - except for me and a few stragglers. The Storm and Saskia are in power. We are losing.

I adjust the sling that's keeping my injured arm in place, moving my eyes briefly to Grey, who is perched on an old wooden chair, staring out the window at the lake outside.

The rest of us are made up of rebels from almost every district. I, however, am one of the few from Four. My home has mostly given its loyalties to the new Capitol and is currently unreachable for us.

This little old, crummy, wooden hut of a safe house won't hold us for long. They'll find us.

From across the room, a man pushes through the bunch of rebels to meet me at the small, wooden table which we've been using to plan over the last few days. He is tall, with black but greying hair, and wrinkles beginning to form on his face. It's Mr. Murk- the victor from District Nine.

He hobbles over to the table, dumping a large array of guns and other weapons onto the desk. "This is all my team could salvage," he breathes, resting his arms on the table. "District Two has already sided with the new Capitol and with it, the Peacekeeper headquarters and most of the country's weapons are theirs… they're sayin' most other Districts will follow suit over the next few days."

His eyes are on me now. They all are. Everyone in this room. They're expecting me to say something - to lead. I was never a leader. I was trained to be a killer, nothing more. People told me who to kill and I followed through. At first, it was kids from other Districts - then after the games, it was members of the League. Now I'm the last head of the Order and with it, the weight of a planet is on my shoulders.

"I-if we do nothing… I'm afraid people will start forgetting what democracy is. We can't give up," I say with a deep sigh.

Mr. Murk is about to leave when something seems to prick at his mind. "Oh - there's one more thing…"

"Yeah?"

"It's probably easier if I show you," he shrugs.

After shooting Grey a slightly confused look, we decide to follow him through a tight corridor to a staircase that leads down to a basement.

"Before the Peacekeepers arrived - our people swept the arena… it's not much, but I thought you should know," he explains as the three of us enter a gloomy basement, only lit with a few orange flickering light bulbs.

On the table is a young man under a sheet - unconscious and on life support. His hair is blond and extremely dirty, his face is covered in scrapes, gashes, and bruises and he has a loosely fitted respirator over his nose and mouth. It can only be one person…

Conrad… Conrad Martell. He's alive? Or is he? He looks more than half dead at least. I'm speechless for one of the first times in my life.

"We found him just outside of the arena and managed to remove the tracker," Murk begins. He's right. Wrapped around Conrad's wrist, is a bandage. "Grey's antics in the control room must have paid off, but it's a miracle he's still alive… to be honest. I'd give him a few more days at most… he had no family, right?" He asks.

Grey ignores him and pushes past us to Conrad's bedside, tapping his feet impatiently.

"We can't just give up on him!" he exclaims.

Murk's eyes dart to me, and we exchange a look briefly before mine go back to Grey.

"It's not the physical injuries - that we can manage… but his lungs have slowly been suffocated by some kind of Capitol poison, and the respirators we have aren't enough to clear it," Murk states.

"Well… then go get some that can!" Grey shoots back immediately.

Murk lets out a chuckle and rolls his eyes. "We'd have to contact some of our fighters in Three, but with everything going on… besides, even with the advanced equipment I'd still only give him a fifty-fifty chance."

Grey turns to me again. His face is pleading to me to take his side, but unfortunately, I'm ninety percent a realist. I get it. We fought our way to the control room, we lost people to save these guys. But we need to be practical and conserve the resources we have for more important things.

It's not even because he and Tatiana killed Marissa, my tribute. I've been in the arena. I know what you have to do. Besides, Marissa was a member of the Storm - or so they say.

No, I'm just a realist.

"I'm inclined to agree with Mr. Murk… it hardly seems like a good use of our resources, the few that we have."

Grey throws his hands out with an irritated and judgemental sigh.

"So that's it? Did we watch the same games? Did you see what he went through? Don't you remember what Cornelius said? If we give up on him… then what message does that send to the Districts? Are we just gonna give up on them too?"

He shoots us an accusatory glare.

Whilst Murk simply gives a condescending laugh, my mind is caught in a dilemma. Grey is right. We can save this boy - there's something more to him. I can feel it. I've never made decisions with 'feelings' before but that irrational ten percent of me is winning over this time.

"Do it," I say, turning back to Murk. "That's an order."

His smirk sinks away in amazement, and he rolls his eyes again, this time to the ceiling.

I turn back to Grey, who has a surprised yet pleasant smile on his face. "We're gonna save him?" he questions.

I nod.

He pumps his fist through the air like an excited child.

…

Whilst Murk disappears to fulfil my command, the air outside is suddenly shaken by a violent boom, coupled with twirling the sounds of dozens of spinning propellers.

Together, we charge outside into the evening woods. Leaves and branches are blowing violently around us. The lake has been covered entirely by a shadow. Lights whirl and illuminate the darkness, and we see that above us looms a gigantic airship that reminds me of a stretched-out balloon.

We stand below it. Like insects. Our eyes meet each other as our hair blows in the wind.

"The First Renegades… so they are real… what are they doing here?" Grey muses.

"The plot thickens…" I murmur back.

Military hovercrafts begin descending down to meet us…

Ok, there's the first Epilogue! Some new plot times getting created here, especially for Tatiana. Big Thank you to Rising-Balloons for beta reading this chapter!

Also also, another announcement I (Nautics) am officially opening Born Again, my sequel fic to Town of Shade. You can find the tribute submission form and the interest list on my profile page! Team-Shadow has also opened her own sequel t and the details are on her Profile!

Also, now that the two survivors are official. Here are you guys "Eulogies" well they aren't eulogies because they're survivors, but you get what I mean.

Conrad: Wow I'm going to try to keep this concise, but this was the least you deserved after everything you went through! From never having a family to finding a brother in the games and then having him taken from you in the most cruel way, to getting bittersweet revenge. RB, I know I gave you another survivor in another unrelated story but I dont care. This is the story I was excited to tell, and I can only put time and energy into writing something I'm excited about. We considered some other character arcs like maybe a Harvey Dent type arc but something I really wanted to explore about Conrad and Nadia in this story is how pain and loss makes them stronger. Congrats RB and thank you for giving us Conrad!

Darrah: Darrah, and her interactions with her allies have to be some of the most fun I've had writing a group of characters. She had to grow up fast, and learn how the world works. In the end, everything she went through wasn't for nothing, as she's still alive! Although not quite in the best situation, I'm quite happy with the journey she took and excited to see where she goes next. Congratulations daydreamer626 for your survivor, we hope we did her justice!