Brizo Windrake, 18
District 4, He/Him
May 3rd, 97 ADD
1:18 PM
"Brizo?"
He opened his eyes, squinting up at the man leaning over him. Brizo inhaled to answer, but immediately began coughing. The man- he was familiar, but Brizo's thoughts were jumbled and he couldn't quite place him yet- pulled his hand back from the side of Brizo's throat and pressed the back of his hand against Brizo's forehead. When he was done coughing, he let his pounding head fall back against the dirt, dizzy.
Dirt… he was outdoors. The sky was hanging over him, clear and blue. How did he end up outside…?
"Thank god," the man muttered. "Can you speak? Can you sit up?"
"I-" Brizo started coughing again as he propped himself up on his elbow. The man passed him a bottle of water when he was done, and Brizo took it gratefully, suddenly aware of how dry his mouth was.
"Not too fast."
Brizo swallowed another gulp. "Where am I?"
The man studied him for a moment. "You don't remember?"
"I…" Brizo squeezed his eyes shut as he thought back, forcing himself to concentrate.
(-a bolt of lightning tearing through the backs of his eyes- thunder pounding in his skull- dirt beneath his nails- rain in his teeth, between his toes, down the back of his shirt- rain everywhere- no, blood, it was blood, blood on his hands on his face- someone was screaming was it him whose voice was that whose hand was on his arm whose blood was that who was screaming WHO WAS SCREAMING-)
"Brizo!"
Brizo opened his eyes again, panting, as the man pulled Brizo's hands away from his face. "Are you alright?" he asked, frantic.
Brizo's tongue was thick in his mouth. "I c-can't- I can't r-remember-"
"Okay. That's fine. For now just, uh, drink more water, okay?"
"Thanks," Brizo muttered.
The familiar man put the bottle back in Brizo's hand. While he drank from it, the man continued talking to him. "You were out here for the Wilderness Trial," he said. "Do you remember the Trial?"
Brizo nodded. Four's Volunteer system had two tests- first the Wilderness Trial, then the Battle Trial. The Wilderness Trial was a relatively recent addition to the Trial, which used to just consist of the fights on the beaches, and it took place about two weeks before the Battle Trial. In order to Volunteer, hopefuls had to survive the Wilderness and win the Battle.
"I remember starting it," Brizo murmured. "I was out here for a few days…"
"Right," the man nodded. He… he was a trainer. Right. He'd worked with Brizo many times before. He'd known him a long time. "And then there was a storm."
"I…" Brizo tentatively tried to reach back again for the memories, but the lightning sparked at the back of his mind and he recoiled. "How long ago?"
"Yesterday," was the answer. "We tried our best to come out here and find all of you boys, but you had made your way further along the coast than we'd anticipated."
"All of… us…?"
"Yes, Brizo, all of the boys that want to Volunteer. There were over a half-dozen of you." Brizo glanced around, but he and the man were alone.
"The others?" Brizo asked.
When his gaze returned to the trainer, he found that the man's expression had shifted. "We've found three others so far, and now a fourth- you."
"Oh. Okay."
The trainer hesitated. Brizo was sure by now that his name started with an H. Harmon? Henry?
"I'm glad to see you all right, Brizo," he said. "I'm not seeing any… injuries, other than possibly your head?"
Brizo ran a hand through his hair- while his head ached, and he had plenty of scratches or bruises, there were no wounds. "I don't think so?"
"No other injuries?"
Brizo pulled himself up from his elbows to a fully sitting position with a groan. "Everything… hurts…"
"That's fair." The trainer (Heltan?) gave him a quick once-over before nodding with satisfaction. "Okay. Here's what we're going to do. I'm going to help you try to stand, and we're going to go find the medics and call your parents. Okay?" Brizo nodded.
After securing permission to touch him, the trainer helped pull him to his feet by his arms and slung one of Brizo's arms around his shoulders, supporting his shaky legs. Brizo looked down and saw that he was covered in mud, with a few of his cuts reopening and starting to bleed shallowly. Brizo let the trainer- Harvey, he was sure now that the trainer was Harvey- help him stumble out of the wilderness.
Eventually, they arrived at a main road, where several Peacekeeper trucks and a small crowd had gathered. As soon as they saw Brizo, they started pushing forwards, but the Peacekeepers held the civilians back. Harvey guided Brizo towards two small white tents that had been pitched by the roadside. A medic directed them into the tent on the left, and Brizo was brought to a cot. Several medics swarmed him, and Brizo let his mind drift as they examined him.
"Brizo…"
He looked around, confident it was Harvey's muffled voice that had said his name, but the trainer who had recovered him from the wilderness was nowhere to be seen.
"Yes, about a half mile from here."
He must be outside the tent.
"Yes. About a quarter of a mile from Adrian and Rainn."
Adrian… Rainn… he used to train with them.
Harvey's voice lowered. "Less than that from Eaton."
Eaton. Brizo didn't have to struggle to place that name.
The other, unfamiliar voice responded. "And still no sign of the others?"
"No." Harvey sighed. "I… I fear…"
"What?"
"There is a chance," Harvey continued, voice hushed even further, "that Brizo Windrake may be the only survivor."
Brizo's eyes widened at this revelation. That meant… Eaton… and Adrian and Rainn… and… and…
(-thunder shaking the earth beneath his feet- another scream- he couldn't see couldn't hear couldn't breathe the storm the storm the storm-)
"Mr. Windrake!"
Brizo opened his eyes, gasping. He didn't remember curling in on himself. He didn't remember shoving his fingers in his ears.
(He didn't remember anything.)
Tisiphone Fotis, 18
District 4, She/Her
May 7th, 97 ADD
10:10 AM
The sky was clear, taunting Tisiphone with its soft breeze and shining sun glimmering against the ocean waves. She picked her way along the beach carefully, stepping around the debris as she scanned it. It couldn't have been a more beautiful afternoon- if she ignored the destruction along the coast. The Peacekeepers and their cleanup crews were still hard at work, clearing away the felled trees, restoring power lines, and generally returning Four's landscape to what it had been less than a week prior.
Before the storm.
(She thought she'd seen something from the top of the lighthouse that morning.)
(She'd been caught in this in-between state, this waiting, for days now, and Tisiphone wasn't sure if that was better than the alternative. Because in not knowing, there was still a chance, right…?)
She stepped around the wreckage of a fishing boat, her throat tight. She could only hope it was one of the boats that hadn't been tied up properly, that the winds had torn it from its dock and smashed it against the rocks.
(Tisiphone could only hope that this was not yet another wreck whose blame laid on her shoulders.)
(If she had only-)
Her eyes widened as she took in the next wreck.
This was the one she'd spotted.
(This was the one she'd hoped she'd falsely recognized.)
Tisiphone picked up her pace, stumbling through the sand and falling to her knees before the wreckage of yet another boat. The splintered hull had once been painted white, and the engine had been ripped off. It was the same one she'd seen by the jetty, but it had washed downshore by the time she'd made an excuse and slipped away from her siblings. Tisiphone reached, her hand trembling, for a piece of wood and examined it, and then another, and another, and-
-her heart dropped.
The symbol, applied with black paint, was unmistakable. A lighthouse.
Tisiphone dropped the wood and keeled forward, wrapping her arms around her torso and hugging herself tightly. Her eyes filled with tears, and she struggled to hold back her sobs as a ragged cry tore loose from her throat.
She had failed.
(Keep the light going. Keep it on at all costs, and wait for me. I'll be back.)
She'd promised. But she'd broken her promise, and now her mother was never coming back.
For a long moment, she let herself cry. Her tears were hot and bitter, the sand coarse beneath her knees. Tisiphone wept before the wreckage of her mother's boat, the only one to hold herself in this terrible moment.
(She'd put everything she had into keeping that light going. It was not enough.)
But she didn't let herself cry forever. Eventually she raised her head and brushed away her tears, squeezed her hands into fists to stop them shaking. She was the eldest daughter. She would keep going. She had suspected this outcome for the last several days, and now she had her confirmation. She had to carry on.
It was what her mother would have wanted her to do.
Gingerly, Tisiphone reached again for the wreckage, searching the debris. Her mother was not with the boat; Tisiphone tried not to think about her whereabouts too deeply. She could only hope that it had been quick. She quickly turned up a broken oar and damp medical supplies, as well as a flashlight and a waterlogged flare gun. Curiously, she also found a shoe- a boot that Tisiphone didn't recognize, which was certainly too large for her mother. There was a broken pair of binoculars that wasn't hers, either.
But then, as her hand brushed a clump of sand, she caught a glint of gold and reached for it. Her throat tightened as her fingers clasped an object Tisiphone immediately recognized: her mother's locket. She pried it open. There were two images inside, both of men. The man on the left was one she knew- her father, Mariano. Tisiphone cradled the locket in her palm as she studied the source of her freckles, Meg's wavy hair, Ally's pointed nose. The other man, however…
Tisiphone squinted. She had always wondered, though not nearly as loudly as the twins, who Elpis' father was; it seemed she now had her answer. Here was the curly dark hair and light eyes that none of the siblings save their youngest brother had inherited. This man was the spitting image of her younger brother.
Her gaze drifted towards the boot and the binoculars that had not belonged to her mother. Perhaps…?
But she had no way of knowing.
She glanced at the locket one more time before flipping it shut, the reality of her situation sinking in.
Tisiphone held the locket to her chest, squeezing it tightly. The storms had taken her father, and now they had taken her mother, too. Tisiphone was only eighteen- she couldn't care for her three siblings- but she had no other choice, and it was what she would do. They were her responsibility.
But Four… Four would try to take them from her. The government would separate the Fotis siblings if they knew they were alone- and it would take them from their lighthouse, too. Tisiphone could not bear that.
No, she would care for them. She would hold them together.
She would not fail again.
Four could not take the Fotis siblings from their lighthouse if they didn't know Odelle was gone. She could get rid of the wreckage, hide what she'd found, but it wouldn't last long, and she couldn't take care of them without the lighthouse. And she could only think of one way to keep it.
The girls' Wilderness Trial had been canceled, and the Battle was next week. There was still time. She could enter the Games- she could win, and keep her family and her lighthouse.
Winning would get her the money to take care of them, and a home, and either the authority to keep the lighthouse or enough to bribe the officials, whichever worked best.
(Her sisters would hate her for it, she knew. But with the wreckage of her mother's boat on her shoulders, Tisiphone knew she had no other choice.)
(She would keep the light burning, or die trying.)
Bastet Avarne, 18
District 2, She/They
May 31st, 97 ADD
9:34 PM
"Adequate, I suppose."
Bastet whirled around to find Nyx standing in the doorway, dark hair covering half her face. They didn't know how long she'd been watching them hurl knives into a target across the room. Her most recent throw had been an inch to the left of the bulls-eye.
Bastet scowled. "I was warming up."
"No, you weren't," Nyx scoffed. "You're been here at least an hour."
Bastet's scowl deepened. "What do you want?" they asked, turning the next throwing knife over in their hand. "I don't need your criticism anymore. The spot is mine."
A smirk brushed Nyx's lips. "You don't need me?" she asked. "You would be nothing without me."
Bastet clenched the throwing knife so hard their knuckles went white.
(She was in control. She would stay in control.)
"Or have you forgotten, Bastet, that you were never my first choice?"
Bastet gritted their teeth. "Your first choice," she replied, as scathingly as possible, "couldn't even beat Enyo Paceio. Your first choice got herself killed in a fucking riot-"
"Ah, yes. Aveline…" Nyx trailed, savoring the other girl's name in a way she had never done for Bastet. "That is what I have come to speak to you about."
Her mouth went dry. "Why?"
"Because, Bastet, Aveline Averone has been found."
She stared at Nyx, trying to conceal their disbelief. Trying to play it off casually, because Bastet didn't care. "What, they finally found the body? Took them long enough."
"No, you fool," Nyx answered. "My beloved Aveline is very much alive."
Their blood ran cold. "Impossible."
"She will be representing District One as one of their Volunteers."
"I- what?"
Nyx arched a single black eyebrow in response.
"You're fucking with me," Bastet seethed. "What is it with you and your mind games?"
"This is no mind game."
"It is!" Bastet insisted, struggling to keep their voice even. "Because- 'cause that's not possible. That doesn't make any fucking sense-"
(-because Aveline would never leave them behind like that. Bastet had thought they meant something to her, that Aveline had meant what she said… and to believe Nyx, to be proven otherwise, was unthinkable. It would break her.
And Bastet would not be broken by this woman and her lies again.)
"I received word from District Two's Pantheon today. As you know, One and Two often exchange the names of their Volunteers preceding the Games, and Ms. Van Zandt thought it relevant information. Do you not agree?"
"No!" Bastet shouted. "No, no, no. Stop it."
"She has been living there for the last several months, which is why we were unable to locate her body after the demonstrations-turned-riots last fall," Nyx continued. "She has been living with one of One's Academy administrators, and was chosen to represent One alongside-"
"Stop!"
"-another trainee who goes by the name Invincible Gaultier-"
"You're fucking lying!" Bastet shouting, crossing the room and getting in Nyx's face. "Aveline- she wouldn't do that-"
"I inquired as to her circumstances, and Ms. Van Zandt informed me that Aveline has made several new friends at her Academy," Nyx continued with a cold smile. "Her training has been progressing at an admirable rate-"
"Shut up!"
"-and now we'll finally see that I was right all along, won't we?"
Bastet jabbed a finger in Nyx's shoulder. "You're wrong," she hissed. "I know that this is just another game. I know this is just another fuck you- because guess what? You're fucking pissed, aren't you? You're angry your little golden girl fucking blew herself up. You're mad because you're stuck with me, but too fucking bad. I'm- I'm better, I am, and when I come back alive you'll know I always should have been the first choice. When I win, you'll regret every word that's come out of your fucking mouth for the last eighteen years-"
Nyx laughed, sharp and hollow. "I regret nothing, and I mean every word. Aveline is alive. She will come back to me, and she will be the death of you."
"Shut up!" Bastet shrieked. "Stop it-"
"You were nothing when I took you in," Nyx told them. "An orphan with no prospects. And now, you have the honor of dying for Aveline's victory. For everything I've done for you, I should expect more gratitude-"
"Gratitude?" Bastet shouted, the fist with the knife in it trembling. "For what? It's not like you ever loved me! She was the only one-"
"All you ever did," Nyx interrupted, her voice climbing in pitch, "was drag Aveline down. You only ever held her back, and I tried- oh, I tried- to get you to keep your distance, to let her blossom as she should have, but no. No, Bastet always knew best. Bastet decided to bring Aveline to the front lines of a goddamn riot, Bastet had to ruin-"
Bastet's blood was so hot they could barely think straight. "What are you saying?" she demanded.
Nyx began to smile.
"Say it," Bastet shouted. "You fucking coward, say it-"
"Either Aveline is alive, and you are being delusional," Nyx stated, smile growing, "or she is dead, and it is entirely your fault."
(Bastet saw red.)
(Eighteen years of being second best. Eighteen years of being shoved aside so Aveline could thrive. Eighteen years of being blamed for the failures of Nyx's illegal training ring- eighteen years of being told she was a leech, a parasite- eighteen years of never being enough for this woman who claimed Bastet owed her-
Bastet owed Nyx nothing.)
Bastet raised her throwing knife, slashing it across Nyx's throat.
For a moment, they both went still.
And then a red bubbling line appeared where Bastet's knife had pierced her throat, and Nyx screamed. Bastet stepped back and watched as Nyx collapsed to the ground, clawing at her neck.
(All their life, she'd been accused of ruining. For once, she was happy to claim the label.)
"You're a liar," Bastet whispered, a wicked smile curving across their lips. "See you in hell, bitch."
Nyx convulsed, and then twitched, and then went still. And Bastet relished the sight.
(Nyx was wrong. She'd lied about it all. Aveline was gone, and Bastet was enough, and she would prove it. Because Nyx always lied. Always.)
(So surely, she'd been lying about this, too…
…right?)
aaaand THAT'S IT! NO MORE INTROS! thank you to dyldoxoxo for brizo, darthnell for tisiphone, and mykindleisawesome for bastet! i... i had too much fun teehee! thank you three for your patience!
and ayo it's PREGAMES time! for new friends, i like to give each kid three pregames povs, and the first set will be in the next four chapters, which are goodbyes/trains/parade shenanigans. so that's what we have to look forwards to! hype!
okay that's it from me for now see you next time with goodbyes!
rb
