Speak Not The Dead

by CragmiteBlaster

Born to greedy Capitol parents kicked out of the grand city and raised to be a medium in the biggest con throughout District 9 history, Lisbeth Trismegistus enters the 126th Hunger Games to put an end to it. For her, it's not just about survival, it's about finding out who she really is. [Victor Exchange 2023]

4. Phase IV: The Victor

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PHASE IV: THE VICTOR

"Keep your eyes on the road ahead. Don't be drawn into the light or the shadows in your head. Keep your eyes on the road ahead and don't ever look back, don't ever look back."

---

It's light out when I wake up, though the rain is still coming down hard. Slowly but surely I force myself into a sitting position.

I surely slept like a rock, but I'm so tired. Exhausted. Drained.

When is this gonna be over?

Not until eight more tributes die, I hear my inner voice say.

Solar sits near the entrance, watching the rain outside with a knife in her hand. My stirring perks her up as she turns back to see me. She's by my side in a moment.

"You good?"

"Not really."

"...Yeah, dumb question I guess."

"How long was I out?"

"Only a few hours since… that," she says, slowly. "Still nine of us left. No sign of anyone else."

Ah, yes. That. The baby, the tipping point that sent me right over the edge. Solar doesn't ask about my breakdown. She just waits for me to say something else.

"So… now what?" I ask.

"Well, wanna share out the supplies you got us from under there?" Solar suggests. "I'd have helped myself, but me reaching in your pack, and you maybe waking up while I did… yeah, would've been a bit awkward at best."

Yes, yes it would've. I do as she wants and take out everything we managed to loot for ourselves. It's not a bad haul, really. We eat our way through a pack of pork and two bottles, setting them outside to refill with rain water.

After that we just… sit. Sit and watch the rain.

"So, we got the supplies," I say.

"Yeah, and all it cost us was most of our sanity. If I get to go home I doubt I'll ever get another proper night of sleep ever again," Solar says. "Whenever I close my eyes, I see that thing."

"I'm never having kids. Never really thought about it anyway, but now I really won't."

"Same."

"...Yeah."

"Yeah."

If there's anything to be thankful for, the baby has stopped crying. There's no noise of any sort from below. Perhaps it's been recalled by the gamemakers, though if there's any justice in this world then it'll starve to death down there and I'll never hear it again.

It's an hour later that the rain starts easing up. It won't be long now before it stops outright, and surely that'll be when tributes will be on the move once more.

"We should go, Solar. The careers said they were gonna come back once we were at ten tributes, and now we're at nine. There's been no anthem, they won't know Rupee is dead, they might think she came here."

"Maybe if we're lucky they'll be the baby's next meal," Solar mutters. "Yeah, we better get moving. We got lucky against Sturm and Rupee. I doubt we'd fair well against Sun and Clamantha at the same time."

"Button could be a problem too. He scored a one on purpose," I remind her. "We don't know how good he actually is."

"Then let's not risk finding out. C'mon, this way."

"Which way is 'this way'? It's a desert, it all looks the same to me."

"We're heading back to the canyon. Maybe Theory's hiding there," Solar suggests.

Ah, of course. Solar still intends to stick with her district partner, wherever he is. I should trust her more; she didn't have to pull me to safety within those closets and ensure we both made it past Rupee, but what happens if, and when, Theory joins us? What happens if I finally run out of usefulness to her?

She soon notices I'm doing nothing more than silently following her, not quite looking her way.

"You don't trust me," she says.

"Does anyone in the arena?"

"I trust you," she says, shrugging. "I think I'm right to. You did help me over that wall and get me away from that mutt. Why wouldn't I trust you?"

"...Just one victor."

"Chances are one or both of us are gonna be hunted down like the rest of our allies were. I don't think we have to worry about betrayal when pretty much everyone aside Theory is gonna kill us on sight. We're pretty much all we have, if you think about it."

I can't deny the sense she makes. The remaining two careers would of course kill us, and after what Button did to Macey he'd surely not have issues doing the same. Stetson already tied me up as bait, he won't be merciful if he sees me or Solar after Settler's death. Seafoam I know is no threat, but he at least wants to attempt murder. Falcon of course wants me dead above anyone else… she's right, she really is my only ally, my only friend.

But even so trust remains hard. Again, she's quick to pick up on my silence.

"You're curious about my arm and how I've been 'lying to you all along', right?"

"Oh, you know… just a bit."

"It was a strategy. Attend the reaping with my arm in a sling and trick people into thinking of me as helpless and weak if I were reaped. I've been doing it since I was twelve," she pauses to laugh. "Nobody ever called me on it even once."

A strategy. One that worked, certainly, when you consider Pleat must have been targeted over her for seemingly being the only one with two working arms. Would Solar still be alive now if she hadn't faked the injury? If she wasn't, would I still be alive?

Maybe it's stupid to be feeling unsure over her conning us. Perhaps I'm just sick of lies after living one for so long.

"If you think about it," she continues. "You kinda lied at your reaping too. You said you were volunteering because you 'couldn't let another sister die for you' or some rubbish, when really you were coming here to shut down some cult."

"...You're right," I concede. "I'm just not used to trusting people."

"Yeah, no wonder. But I think if two girls can survive a massive baby mutt, they can trust each other," Solar giggles.

"That sounds so weird."

"Still true though. And look, I'm not gonna replace you with Theory or anything dumb like that, it's just that more numbers makes us live longer… and if I don't win, I'd like it if he did. Then my brothers get more food."

"...And if not him or you, then me?"

"You know it!"

I still feel out of sorts as I stick close to her across the dunes. Maybe part of it is trauma, because really who would feel right after baby mutts and chainsawing tributes, but maybe another part of it is how, for the first time, I trust someone else.

Even if just a little bit, for now.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

Solar may know our destination but she certainly doesn't quite know how to get from point A to point B. Though I can't claim I know any better.

"Think you can channel the spirit of someone who actually knows the way?"

"Hrrrrrrm…"

We're certainly a ways from the ruins now, and if I have my way we'll never return to them. However, the canyons just aren't around here. Or maybe they're over the next dune? Hard to say when the dunes all look the same to me.

Are the other tributes just as hopelessly lost as we are?

Rather than finding the canyons Solar has instead found cacti. A lot of it. There's always been cacti across the desert, but this is something else. There's gotta be hundreds of cacti plants growing close together, and some of them are unnaturally tall. If not for the risk of impalement, it'd almost be a good hiding spot.

Though some seem to have chunks carved out of them. Is a mutt feeding off of them? After what we saw during the night, I'd die happy to never see a mutt again.

"Look, over there."

Solar points ahead. Beyond the cacti forest and between the dunes is a large formation of rocks and cliffs. It's tall alright; from up there there's no way we wouldn't see the canyons.

"Vantage point," she continues. "At least we'll be on the right track."

"Or just know where not to go."

"Not quite optimism, but we're getting there."

"THERE THEY ARE!"

Clamantha, and with her Sun and Button. She holds a trident, Sun clutches a sword and Button makes do with four knives on his belt and a metal bat. All three are rushing towards us, surely at a speed faster than we can outpace.

"Think they could follow us through the cacti?" I pause. "Can we even fit through it?"

"Guess we're gonna find out!"

We rush for the cacti with the careers closing the gap faster than I would've thought anyone could run across sand. We're in the cacti and edging our way deeper and deeper before they are, and that's when the worst of it begins. The spikes cut against our exposed arms and easily poke through our thin clothing. Slowing down would ease the worst of it, but how can we do that when the careers are right behind us?

They, too, are shouting and crying out from the stabs and scratches of the cacti, and they looked to have wounds from the get go. Was it a stab wound I saw in Sun's arm? Whether or not it was, I at least know I saw acid burns on Clamantha's arms.

Button, the furthest at the back, suggests they just go around and cut us off, but he can't move back because cacti have grown to cut him off. There's nowhere to go but forwards/

There doesn't seem to be any dead ends within this forest of cacti, but some paths are more cramped than others and oftentimes we're forced to go down a tunnel where punctures to our skin are unavoidable. My arms flow with blood, shallow but no less horrifying. Just how much blood am I really losing?

A glance back, though, and I can see the careers are suffering much the same. Button appears small enough to avoid the worst of it, but he can't fit past his allies to catch up to us, and it's clear that Clamantha and Sun are taking on all manner of punctures, being bigger than Solar and I. Even now their muscles have several spikes dug in deep.

I wonder if our one and only medical kit will be able to do a thing about the spikes.

"Almost there," Solar says. "Get ready to run!"

Moments later she forces her way forwards and takes off. With Solar no longer in the way it's easy to hurry forth through the empty space and emerge on the other side of the cacti.

However, running over the soft, hot sand with bloodied arms is where the trouble quickly returns. I won't last long like this and I can see Solar, maybe fifty yards ahead, is suffering just as much as I am.

"Let's get them! Hurry!" Clamantha yells from somewhere behind me. Somewhere close.

"Why not be nice and give them a ten second head start?" Sun asks out loud. "Why not have some fun?"

"You'd risk letting them get away like Nine's partner did?" Button asks, lost.

"Shut up!"

I hear Sun punching Button, hard enough to knock him down. He decides to forgo the head start and keeps up the chase.

Did Falcon really manage to evade the careers? How did he do that, he may have had skills but to outrun the careers over the desert sand is something else. Could his hatred of me have given him the energy he needed to keep going? Far be it from the first time someone kept going in the Games out of sheer hate.

I run, but I know in my heart that I won't be able to outrun the pack for long. I look back; Sun has taken the lead and he's closing in fast with the sword. If I keep running he'll just slash me and that'll be that.

He seems arrogant. The sort who loves to play with his food. Sturm killed Cookie, and then every death since then has had nothing to do with the pack. Sturm wasn't even with the pack. He'll be itching for action and something interesting to do. If I could get him talking then perhaps I might find the time for an escape, or Solar could assist… or, not ideal but better than nothing, Solar might escape.

Better to at least try than to run only to surely be struck down anyway. At least this way there's a chance, however remote.

I slow and turn to face Sun. As expected, he slows as well until he's stopped just a couple feet back from me. His pausing has made Clamantha and Button stop as well.

"Giving up?" he asks.

"More like I'm sick of running," I tell him. The audience will love that. "The sand in my shoes, the awkward ground. It's not fun."

"Got that right," he cheerfully agrees. He still clutches his sword, but he's more at ease now.

"Aren't we gonna kill her?" Clamantha asks.

"What's the rush? This is the first bit of fun we've had in days," Sun says, confirming all of my speculations. "Let's enjoy it."

"But-" Button tries to speak, only for Sun to shove him aside.

"I said let's enjoy it," Sun grunts. "So Nine, anything to say before you die? Anything interesting on your mind, while you still have one?"

"Well, the door at the temple is open," I tell him. "Interesting stuff down there. Plenty of puzzles."

"Any loot?" he asks.

"Just some," I say. "water. A first aid kit. Rupee's dead. Some food."

"Wait, what?"

"There's a first aid kit. You might need it for your arms."

"No, you said Rupee's dead!" his anger and cold stare returns at that. "Did you kill her?"!

Hmm, he seems quite bothered by that. Offended even. I wonder, briefly, how he might respond if I ask him about that, and press on how it's any different than the tributes he's already killed. I'm doubtful it'd go over well or inspire any change in him.

"I didn't," I say. I glance around to try and spot Solar; she's gone. Did she escape? Is she lurking out of sight, waiting for the right moment that might not come? "A mutt swallowed her whole."

For a moment Sun doesn't seem to know what to say.

"It was a baby. Literally."

"... You're making shit up!"

"I'm not."

"You are!"

"Alas, I'm not. I'm done lying, you saw my interview right?"

"Can we just get on with this?" Clamantha asks. "We're almost at the top eight and my family's really gonna want to be interviewed. Let's just hurry this up."

So this is it then. This is where I die, for real. Well, I'll go down with my head held high. At least for a week I was my own person, haphazard as it's been. At least Solar got away.

Solar takes one step forth and takes a water balloon right to the face. He splutters, while Clamantha and Button hold back, confused.

More water balloons follow the first, splattering them in their faces. It does little but distract them as it's only water within the balloons, nothing harmful. I take a few steps back anyway.

"Heads up!" calls a voice that isn't Solar's.

Another water balloon hits Sun in the face. He appears more amused than anything else.

"Water? That's your final defence? Throwing water at us?" he mocks.

Behind me, atop the dune before the rock formations, stands Theory with Solar beside him. Two buckets are between them, one appearing empty and one full of balloons.

"Yeah!" Theory replies. "Want more, or have you had enough?"

"By all means keep throwing!" Sun laughs. "It's only water!"

"You'd be doing us a favour!" Clamantha teases. "It's a desert, water is a good thing!"

Button makes no comment. He briefly locks eyes with me, shaking his head over his allies' theatrics. Then he takes a water balloon to the face.

All three of the pack take several water balloons without even trying to block them, and then it's clear that something is wrong. The second volley of balloons is not filled with water. Not by how their skin is becoming seared and scalded, and how one of Sun's eyes has swollen horrifically.

They're full of acid and the pack howl and scream as they realise this. Sun tries to shout out some sort of a battle command, only to take a near-mouthful of acid. As I make a run for my allies he makes a run for his life, rasping and wheezing out words of retreat. Clamantha and Button, their skin burning and peeling in some places, flee after him.

Slowly, Solar and Theory approach to stand either side of me, watching with me as the careers flee over a dune and off to something, ideally, far away.

"Good thing we found Theory," Solar says.

"Good thing I had water balloons full of acid," Theory adds.

"We got really lucky here, didn't we?" Solar concludes.

NNNRRRGGGGHHH!

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

Some time later, when the sun has begun to set, we all crowd together high up on the rocky ledges of the structure. High up enough that it's making me uncomfortable.

Solar lends a hand, literally. She keeps a gentle grip on me, ensuring that there'd be no chance of me falling off. It's… appreciated.

From here we can see plenty of the desert. Sure, each dune looks mostly the same and we can't quite see everything, but this high up we're able to see where the ruins are and where the canyons are as well. I'm less sure of where the cornucopia is, but Theory tells me that it's somewhere south of the ruins and off in the direction we can't quite see as much of.

He tells us more than that too. After he agrees to team up with us and refreshes himself on some of our water and, more importantly to him right now, food, he recounts of how his alliance died. Burnice didn't make it past the opening minutes, Steam was sent over the canyons by the sandstorm and shortly after that he and Cookie became separated.

There's no missing how devastated he is at the tragic and ultimately very early deaths of all his allies. More than once he pauses his words, wondering if he could've done something more to save them. But he doesn't project, he only fills us in and thanks us for listening.

"Thanks as well," I say. "For saving me. Us."

"Yeah, that trick with the balloons was wicked," Solar agrees.

Theory smirks in perhaps the utter least modest way I've ever seen.

"Careers are deadly, but they're predictable. They're pretty much the same person every year," he says. "Just lower their guards, let them be arrogant and then they're putty for your hands."

"Think they'll be coming back?" I ask.

"Doubtful. You saw what that acid did to Sun's face, right? I'd say they'd kill for a first aid it, but…" he trails off.

Solar, recalling that we have a first aid kit - perhaps the only one in the whole arena - has me open it up. It's full of everything we'll need, or at least some such things. Bandages, two bottles of painkillers, a rag with disinfectant, even a needle and thread for sewing skin back together. All this and a little more.

"So, disinfectant first you reckon?" Solar says.

"Um, sure. But… how do you apply it?" I ask. "...I kinda of… don't remember."

"And you call yourself a studyholic?"

"I've never once called myself that."

"Just hold out your arm."

I do, and Solar gets right to work. First she uses the rag and some water to clean away the blood on one arm and then the next until it's all cleaned up. Next she applies disinfectant, and I'd be lying if I were to say the stinging isn't sharp.

After this she wraps the bandages around my arms, nice and gentle. Not too hard, but not light enough that they'd end up coming undone. It's strange, seeing my arms all covered in bandages from my shoulders to my wrists, but it beats seeing them punctured and bloody.

Solar holds out a single painkiller to my lips.

"Say 'ah', please."

Theory snickers as I give Solar a look. With a laugh she places the painkiller down into my palm, moving on to fix up her own bloodied arms.

We're soon all patched up and, with aid from the painkillers, a little less full of aches than before. The question remains, what now? What comes next now that we've found Theory? Do we remain up here or keep going to the canyons?

"I think it's better if we keep moving," Solar says. "If they send out another sandstorm, we'll be thrown over the edge."

"I keep having to move up and down just in case," Theory admits. "I think they keep adjusting the winds to tease me."

Just at that moment the wind picks up, though only briefly. Moving on it is then. Or perhaps it will be once Theory finishes off another of our water bottles.

"We need to conserve those," I tell him.

"Do we?" he asks. "I know it's not as nice as proper water, but the cacti down there have plenty of water in them. We can refill it with cacti fluid."

Water… in cacti. All the water we could ever need… is in cacti. How could I have forgotten such a thing? I studied it too, I know I did! It was part of my private training, I remember that now! The stress must have caused me to forget all about it… it has to be that, or I'd have to admit that a kid is smarter than I am, and I'm nowhere as humble as that.

At least I remember it now.

With time being of the essence because, really, who knows if the gamemakers won't tilt the rules and allow medical aid from sponsors now that we're in single digits, we begin to make our way down from the high ground.

As we start to - with great care - harvest the cacti and collect water, I can't help but notice that some of the cacti has already had pieces cut out of it. Pieces cut in much the same way we are.

"Theory, did you harvest some of these cacti already?"

"Some of them," he says. "But some were like that when I got here. I guess someone else knows where to get water from… or knew, at least."

Well, I'm doubtful that the careers know any such things. Could Falcon have come this way and stayed alive from the cacti, or could Stetson be somewhere nearby? By the time we leave I'm unable to keep from glancing back over my shoulder, just in case they're right there behind me.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

The journey is long and slow, especially with how the dunes seem to have gotten higher now. Or maybe I'm just tired of roughing it and they only seem that way.

No, they're definitely higher.

We end up stopping for the night at the base of a spot surrounded on all sides by five different dunes. It's out in the open, but at least getting beyond the dunes would take assailants a while.

We're tired enough to chance it, and with the careers having been splashed by so much acid they surely won't be hunting tonight.

"Hey, Theory?" I ask.

"Yeah?" he asks, laying down and facing away.

"Where'd you get the acid anyway?"

I can't see him, but I sort of get the feeling that he just smirked.

"You've seen the snake mutts, right?"

"...How?"

"Remove their rattle and they can't even move. Stroke them under the chin and they vomit the acid out. Easy enough to get sponsor support to collect it after that."

I'm just glad he chose not to use the acid on me, and that nothing had hit me by mistake. Some of those balloons came pretty close.

But, using the mutts as weapons? I never would've thought of such a thing. Nor would Solar if her bewildered look is anything to go by. Then she smiles, ruffling Theory's hair.

"Such a troublemaker doing us all proud!" she exclaims.

"Gerrof, trying to sleep!" Theory whines.

Sleep sounds nice right about now. Solar's on watch first… yeah, why not let myself drift off and just forget about all this for a while?

Well, the anthem is one reason. Theory and I groan, disturbed as it plays loud for all to hear. Thankfully it doesn't last long, only showing Rupee before coming to an end.

"How did she die?" Theory asks.

"Didn't you hear what I told Sun?"

"I wasn't close enough to hear."

"Then trust me, you don't want to know."

"Beth's right," Solar agrees. "You really don't."

Theory soon drops it and settles himself down. Minutes later I do the same, telling Solar to wake me in four hours or so.

"Sweet dreams," she tells me.

"Thank you," I say, settling down to have exactly that.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

I dream of lush wheatfields.

I dream of sunshine.

I dream of friendly birds.

I dream of being home.

I dream of being safe.

I dream of knowing who I am.

I dream.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

I awake suddenly to the sounds of a fight. Through blurry eyes I make out the image of two teenagers fighting. As everything comes into focus I see that Solar is engaged in a brawl against Stetson, one that's surely not long started.

Theory is laid out nearby, knocked out with a bruise to his forehead. For now he's still breathing.

Neither Solar nor Stetson have noticed me waking up, and that will be to my advantage. Surely Stetson went for Solar first because she's the strongest, thinking he could just get the rest of us right afterwards.

Well, she's strong enough to be putting up a serious fistfight and Stetson hasn't taken the time to grab her knife that's landed quite close to me. It'll be all I need.

I've grabbed the knife and started to creep forth, and that's exactly when Stetson finally gains the upper hand over Solar, punching her hard only to grab her arm to twist even harder.

There's a crack.

Solar screams. Her screams cover up the sound of my approach. They don't cover the sound of Stetson's own roars of pain once I sink my knife into the back of his shoulder and, with whatever minute strength I can muster, tear it right back out again.

For a moment it's like he blanks out from pain, barely able to slur. When he turns, he stares right at me. But rather than the rage that was in his eyes last I saw him, now there's only fear.

He kicks me back, but doubles himself over from pain as more blood leaks out of his wound. Barely able to gibber out a few words he turns and runs off. Whatever he's trying to say, I can't claim to understand it.

He doesn't even make it to the top of the dune before he collapses and ends up forced to crawl away over the top, still screaming and moaning. The last I hear from him is a desperate plea for pain killers and help.

Stetson is gone, but that doesn't change how Theory is knocked out and Solar is writhing from her broken arm.

What do I do? I can't remember what I trained for. Did I even train for any of this? I don't remember! We have a med kit; surely there's something in that we could use.

As soon as I open the med-kit I know that won't be the case. Maybe the painkillers will ease some of the pain, but what is there for us to do for a broken arm?

"I… I…" I barely get any words past my lips. "I don't know what to do! What do I do?!"

Solar wheezes and shakes, but manages to gesture to me to pass over the painkillers. I do so, only for her to knock back what is surely beyond the recommended amount.

"Hope these things work fast," she chokes out.

"What do we do until they do? What do we do after they stop working?"

"Sling. Need a sling."

She had a sling before, but she tore it off while fighting Rupee. The torn pieces are probably back under the ruins with that baby. It's too far, and even if it wasn't I'd never go back there.

What else is there for us to turn into a sling? I'm panicking too much to think. With her arm now broken for real, Solar won't be able to fight. She'll die, and then I'll surely die. We'll all die!

Solar, even when in so much pain, claims to have an idea. My jacket. It could be torn to make into a makeshift sort of sling. Our knives, they could be used to cut it.

"But… but it's not the right material!" I say.

"We don't have any other ch-ch-FUCK!" she stops herself mid-sentence to curse from the agony. "I'll…. nrrrrghhh, I'll tell you what to do!"

She directs me in cutting up sections of my jacket, no doubt enough that there's no way it'll be usable after this. From there she supports her broken arm with her other, telling me to get the bandage under it.

"How do you know this stuff?"

"Roughhousing with my brothers," she grunts.

"They broke your arm?"

"...Yes, but the other way around."

"So, no then?"

"Just bring that fabric around my neck."

I follow her every word to the letter. If I'm anything, it's a good listener. Folding the fabric over her lower arm, tying what she calls a reef knot - must be a District 4 thing that got widespread - above her collar bone, tying all leftover fabric for security and making sure it's tight, but not too tight either.

I fear I've done a horrible job over it, but Solar appears satisfied. Or as much as a teenager in terrible pain could possibly be.

"Thank you," she says, grasping my hand with her own.

"You're welcome," I tell her. My voice cracks as she clutches my hand harder. "To tight Solar."

"Sorry," she says. "It just… hurts like shit."

"I can imagine."

She's not the only one who got hurt. So did Theory, though as… eeerrggghhh… luck would have it, he's starting to come to. He sits up and groans, muttering about Stetson's right hook.

Some of the remaining painkillers appear to be enough to ease the worst of his wound. He only suffered a punch, nothing with a real weapon.

"He came at us so fast," Theory says. "He just ran right down the dune and lunged right as Solar was going to wake you up."

It feels like so much happened in that fight, even if it couldn't have been anymore than half a minute or so. But such are the Games; injury and death at the push of a button, or the snap of an arm.

"We should keep moving," Theory says.

"Stetson won't be coming back after that," I tell him. "Solar hasn't even gotten any sleep yet."

"Seafoam and Falcon are still out there," Theory says. "You saw what Stetson just did. Could we defend ourselves if someone else attacks us?"

I'd like to say yes we can, but can we? Falcon isn't useless by any means, and… well, Seafoam might've taken a cactus to the front and back, but he's still alive isn't he? He's still arrogant and eager for blood. After so long without getting even one kill, who knows what he'll do.

In the end I agree to keep moving, but only with the promise that once we reach the tunnels we will stop, and stay there for as long as we can get away with. Theory puts up no resistance; he's certainly in no mood to get into more fights.

So it is that Theory leads the way with Solar's knife in his hand while I walk right beside Solar, trying to keep her supported. It's hard enough to get over a dune, harder with another person's weight to partly support… and harder still when they're starting to get distant and weird.

"You know, Beth…" Solar mumbles. "Sandy is… really sandy. So much sand… sandy sand… stuck in my shoes. I hate sand… hate it all."

"...Yeah, you tell that sand," I tell her, for lack of knowing what else to say.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

We move for the rest of the day and well into the afternoon of the next day too. No cannons fired. Progress is slowing to almost a literal crawl. Solar's had issues walking due to either the pain or the pain meds.

At first the meds began to ease up but that only meant the pain came back and she couldn't stop writhing. Then she used too many pain meds again and left herself mostly stoned.

Whatever's in those pills is potent. I sure hope Solar won't cause herself harm by having taken so many of them.

"Are we there yet?" Solar slurs out.

"I sure hope so," I tell her. "Theory, are we there yet?"

"It won't be long now," he says, somehow confident. "We went a bit off course, but I believe it's just over the next dune."

Rattles. Hissing. Lots of it. From the sand emerge half a dozen snakes, the same kind as the one that tried to attack Rotor days ago. But… they seem different. They're a grim shade of red.

I find out why as soon as they open their mouths. They expel mouthfuls of fire, almost close enough to singe us.

With the threat of incineration behind us we manage to make it to the top of the dune faster than I would've ever believed possible. The threat doesn't end when we run down the other side - well, Theory runs and I just lead Solar as best as I can - because the snakes follow us, still blasting fire.

"There it is!" Theory points up ahead. "The canyons!"

The clouds begin to move overhead, covering the red sky. They're thick, terribly dark grey and surely full of rain.

Though, would being drenched with rain truly be the worst thing right now? Maybe if we're lucky it'll put out the fire in the snakes' mouths.

One boom of thunder. Two booms of thunder. As we reach the base of the dune the downpour of rain begins to strike us and the whole desert.

It's only a moment before I realise this is not rain.

We all begin to shout, scream and cry as our flesh quickly becomes seared by the acid falling upon us. Theory leads us onwards, crying out with every step he takes. He puts up his hood, though I doubt it'll do him much good.

But I don't even have the hood for protection, and the bandages aren't holding up well to the acid. Beside me Solar grunts, cries and howls, leaning forth to block the sling from the acid with her own body.

"Hurry, hurry!" Theory yells, making his way down the trail to the lower caves.

We stumble-run as best as we can, keeping pace despite the pain. From somewhere else in the dark I hear another tribute screaming, though I can't trace their voice. All I can do is hope, whoever has found us now, won't enter the same cave we do or will be driven off somewhere else by the acid.

Theory dives into the first cave he comes across and, at last, I haul Solar in right after him. We collapse on the ground, well and truly out of it. I can barely think of anything aside from how much my skin hurts.

That and how fortunate it is that the tribute who had been nearby has made a desperate leap into the cave right across from ours instead of joining us.

He's covered in burns, he's looking half-mad, he's got dried blood over his right eye and by the looks of it he's lost some weight and hair.

Despite that, Falcon is still alive and he's watching me right now.

"You!" he hisses much like the snake mutts.

He takes one step outside his cave and quickly bolts back under cover as the rain sears his scalp. Even with our cave only being twenty or so feet from his, he's not about to chance getting more and more scalded. Wounds and having to fight three of us at once? Even if Solar is out of it, Falcon knows better than to make a suicide charge.

For a time we just stare at each other. Behind me Theory supports Solar as she stares around vacantly, not getting himself involved.

Twice over the first twenty minutes Falcon tries to throw a knife at me. I'm able to dodge them, just about, and he ceases his efforts. Providing tributes who already outnumber him some extra weapons is clearly something he's keen to avoid.

"This rain won't keep me away forever," Falcon tells me. "I'll be waiting for the moment it stops, and when it does…"

"When it does you'll… what? Charge us when we outnumber you? When you're hurt? When you gave us two extra knives?"

"You think you're making points, but you're not. I've known you for years-"

"Did you really?"

"I knew enough! I know you're weak as they come. I know that your only allies are a kid and a girl with a broken arm and… is she high on pain meds?"

Solar slurs out some sort of babble and awkwardly applauds. She gives Falcon an unfocused look, dramatically rolling her eyes.

"Whoa genius, you work that one for yourself?" she slurs harder the more she talks. "You do know t-t-t-that Beth didn't tell you to volunteer right? You did that yourself buddy bro."

"Well, that doesn't mean shit when her family started a cult and got things to the point I thought I had to do it!"

"... Her family started it, Beth didn't. She w-w-w-was toooootally forced into it," Solar pauses, moaning with a hand to her head. "Did she m-m-make you attack her in the bloodbath?"

"Yes."

"What about the night before the Games?" I ask. "...Did I make you beat me then?"

"Yes," there's not a single flicker of hesitation to his voice.

"Do you think your family would, like… s-s-s-support you killing Beth?" Solar asks.

"Yes."

"OK, this is getting awkward," Theory mutters, inching back. "The other caves aren't far. I could make it…"

Solar puts a swaying arm out to stop Theory from changing a run into the acid rain to leave this conversation behind. We're just gonna have to wait Falcon and the acid rain out.

"You know," Falcon says. "I told Clamantha to kill herself. I think it'd help all four of us if she did. But you know…"

He pauses to look me dead in the eye.

"If you killed yourself, you'd be helping all of District Nine. It's the least you can do after what you've done to my home… my friends… my family," Falcon says.

The way he says it so casually… I feel it's true that being bought into Village was what in turn bought out the worst in him. However, the ease at which he says such cruel things to others, his relentless dedication to focusing his whole being on one goal, one target. I rather feel as though Falcon was never truly sane.

"No, you!" Solar slurs, putting up a finger at him.

Falcon snorts, moving further back into his cave but never once dropping eye contact.

For one moment there's a massive boom of thunder… except it's not. It's a cannon, I remind myself. Someone else died. We're down to just eight tributes left.

They'll be interviewing our families.

As if knowing exactly what I just thought, Falcon gives me a stare that, somehow, is colder than what he was already giving me.

"The interview will show everyone that you have nothing to go back to."

I want to refute him, but I just can't find it in me to say anything. I think the worst part of our conversation is that he's right. Whether my parents escaped the mob or not, they won't be wanting me back.

Who would speak up for me? Who would welcome me home?

Nobody, that's surely who.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

Eventually Falcon moves away from our sight, having nothing more to say. It's really hard to hear over the rain, but I think I heard him snoring a few times. Well fine, at least when he's asleep he can't attack or insult me.

"If we had one of those snake mutts we could hit him from here," Theory says. "Too bad I didn't get the chance to grab another."

"You mean you'd use the snakes like a flamethrower?"

"Well sure! Cool, right?" he says, giggling. "Just remove the tail and you can use them as you please. Better than just having a knife."

It's just idle chatter to distract from what's on all our minds.

Home.

No doubt the acid rain is a way to keep us all in place while they interview our families. Every now and then deaths happen too quickly for there to be a full set of final eight interviews. Just a few years ago there was an incident with a polar bear mutt and, simply put, there were only interviews for a final five.

I wonder if my parents will agree to speak for me. Or are they already gone, never to say a word ever again? If they say something, then surely it won't be anything good. I was their meal ticket, their way to make money and return to the Capitol. If I cannot, and will not, do that for them then they've no reason to even pretend to care.

Would anyone in Village say a nice word for me? Likely not any of Falcon's friends who no doubt share his desire to see me die, whether by his hand or someone, or something, else. Maybe one of the older girls, like Sallan, would support me. She at least was willing to let me volunteer and wanted her family to move on.

Maybe Rinnia. Whatever else I've done, I still saved her. She might want me to win. Then again, I lied to her as well, did I not?

Falcon's right, there's nothing waiting for me aside from Blossom as a neighbour. Theory has three little sisters and two adoring parents that he's mumbled longingly about here and there. Solar has her brothers and some cousins she's close to.

Even the careers, even Seafoam, surely have people rooting for them no matter what.

"I don't like that face. T-t-t-t-thaaaat is a really sad face. A face like a smacked aaaaarse," Solar slurs, nudging me mindlessly with her good arm. The pain killers have reached their maximum effect. "W-w-what'sssss got'cha all down and dumpy?"

…No more lies. After everything, I think I can trust Solar with the truth. Falcon's already up and said it anyway.

"Nobody wants me to win," I say. "Nobody wants me to live."

"That's shitty shit. Like, really shitty."

"You could say that."

"I could say worse. I c-c-c-could allllllllso saaaaaaay it's incorrect."

"How do you figure that?"

"Well, I'd want you to live."

That gives me pause. Theory too, who goes from keeping a look out for Falcon to staring at Solar, confused.

"You're being serious?" I ask. "I know you said before if you two couldn't win, you'd prefer if I did, but…"

She gives me a look that's high, glazed eyes all the way… and yet so very sincere.

"You're smart as shit and that's f-f-facts," she slurs more with each word, but grows all the more sincere to balance it out. "You didn't ask to be the f-f-faaaaaaace of a cult orrrrrrr took delight in lying and shiiiit. You're a victim too, b-b-being your parents' daughter woooon't change that."

"...Won't it?"

"Noooooo silly," she giggles, slurs something that doesn't sound like a real word and boops my word. "B-b-besides, you're super smart. You were s-s-smart enough to save us from Sturrrrm."

"I couldn't save Rotor."

"If things were d-d-different you could've."

Theory looks between us, confused by the exchange. I suppose we didn't actually fill him in on everything did we? Just told him to avoid that damn temple. He settles for simply listening it, sometimes nodding along with what Solar says.

"Solar's right," Theory says. "Your upbringing… is pretty insane. Like, really insane? But you didn't choose your upbringing or join the cult. You got born as the heart of it. Tough luck, that's all it was."

"Luck isn't real."

"Isn't it? I think by now we can all admit it is in some ways," Theory giggles. "Luck, fate, point is you got dealt a bad hand, you didn't deal the hand."

"Yeah!" Solar exclaims, swaying so much she almost falls onto her back. "Besides, yooooou have really d-d-done me some solids. You've sssssaved my life. Frrrrom Sturm, from the… the… t-t-the baby… from the careers in the quarry."

"But, didn't Rotor do that?"

"You g-g-g-got us to hiiiiide and run back where they caaaame instead of r-r-running ahead and dyyyying. A-a-and the resssst is still truuuuuue…" she almost sings out the last few words. "I would, like, totally be d-d-deader than deady dead w-w-without you."

I can't help but blush. It's impossible not to; how could anyone not feel ten feet tall after hearing all of that? I'm about to thank her, but my stoned ally continues talking.

"Besides, alllllll that aside, smart girls are t-t-totallllly my type," she says, giggling.

Theory awkwardly turns away, as if feeling he's witnessing something he probs wasn't supposed to. Well, him and the rest of the nation. It doesn't stop him from smirking at me for a moment. Such cheek!

But I can't even start to frown at Theory. Not when I'm smiling so widely from what Solar said. I don't know if the pain meds are making her say something crazy or it's how she really feels, but it's welcome. So welcome.

I needed that.

"Well, uh, well…" I pause… screw it, we can't promise tomorrow and we can't promise the next hour. "I always did find streetsmarts to be, ah, attractive."

Solar giggles like a double drunk loon. Theory just moans, his hands over his face.

"How much longer until those pills wear off?" he groans.

Solar laughs and for a moment I can't resist softly doing the same. Then we quieten down as the anthem begins to play outside of the cave. Theory and I leave Solar behind us as we creep forth to look out at the sky. From within his own cave Falcon does the same.

It's not too hard to look past the heavy acidic rainfall and see Stetson's face in the sky.

Surely the acid rain is what ultimetely killed him, I would imagine at least, but I wonder if it might be partly my fault? I stabbed him so hard and send him away, struggling to crawl.

But then, he was the one who charged all three of us and broke Solar's arm.

Falcon shoots us a glare and slinks away back out of sight into his cave whilst Theory and I head back into our own.

As the storm rages on and time ticks by, slower and slower, I keep repeating Solar's words in my head as if on loop.

It can't remove the guilt, that sickly feeling that threatens to consume all.

But it sure does make it easily to bear. There's nothing quite as lovely as genuine affection.

…I'm not ready to lose Solar and the only source of it I have. I'm not ready to lose my friend.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

Dawn arrives and the rain still shows no signs of stopping. None, except for how the clouds are getting lighter. Paler. Less of that horribly overpowering grey.

Maybe in a few hours we'll be free to leave the cave.

Only issue is, Falcon is awake and he's surely ready for another attempt on my life. He paces back and forth, often glancing up to stare at me before going back to his muttering.

If there's something to be thankful for, Solar's pain meds wore off by the time she woke up.

Of course, Theory couldn't resist reminding her of what she said to me… and of what I had said right back… so, naturally, it's been an awkward sort of morning.

"I can't believe I said that, in the arena of all places," Solar moans.

"...I didn't mind hearing it," I tell her. "I don't care if the pain meds were the reason you said all that, it meant a lot to hear what you really thought."

"I sounded like a dumbass."

"Oh, certainly… and thanks to that, you've got my complete trust."

It's such a big thing to say that, from one tribute to another. It's bigger still given my paranoia. Solar knows it and suddenly she's not quite so embarrassed. She's smiling.

"What about me?" Theory asks. "You can trust me, right? I threw acid balloons at the careers for you, Beth!"

"I mean, I trust you more than Clamantha."

"Whoa, gee, that's really something."

He looks out of the cave at up at the clouds. For a moment he does nothing but stare at the rainstorm.

"How long are we gonna be stuck in here? You'd think they'd have interviewed our families by now, right?"

"Eh, maybe not?" Solar adds. "Maybe Sun has, like, a dozen brothers or something?"

From outside the cave comes the gentle chime of a sponsor. The acid rain doesn't hinder the parachute in the slightest as it slowly makes its descent to the ground and, with a sudden swiftness, right into our cave.

There's no missing the blocky 9 upon the parachute. Not from us and not from Falcon either.

"Blossom you bitch! Why won't you send me something?" Falcon asks, cursing. "You cultists are all the same!"

I open the parachute while Falcon is distracted with his fit. It's understandable that he'd be angry our mentor is playing favourites, but his loss is my gain.

The gift I've been sent has me staring for the odd moment or two. It's an umbrella. Is heading out into the acid rain really as simple as this? An umbrella? Ah, but it wouldn't be just a normal umbrella would it? Much like how the blanket I was sent was made of such special material, this umbrella must be as well.

The note makes its meaning and the urgency involved very clear.

-I'd tell you how well you're doing, but you need to get moving. Now. Your odds will only get better by being anywhere but where you are now. Get out of his sight, quick! - Blossom-

"Let's go," I say. "Grab everything and keep under the umbrella."

Our supplies are scooped up and the umbrella is extended outwards. It's wide enough to cover all three of us with just a little effort. Off we go, leaving Falcon to scowl from his cave.

Briefly it occurs to me that the shield might've also worked to block the acid, but that would entail leaving Solar and Theory behind. No, that wouldn't be a good plan at all. Lucky me that Blossom had the funding for this umbrella.

Lucky me?

Lucky…

Nrrrrggghhhh…

Blossom's warning was apt. The rain begins to ease up before we've gone too far. We run, but it's doubtful that we'll reach the top of the cliffs before the storm is over and Falcon can start chasing us.

But maybe it's not about getting away from the canyons and hurrying off into the desert. Blossom said for us to get out of his sight, so that's exactly what we'll be doing.

The rain finally stops and the clouds part as we pass the tunnel Solar, myself… and Rotor… had hidden in during the first night. I hurry us in and direct Solar and Theory to get behind the boulders. We keep low, holding our breaths as we await Falcon's approach.

His fast footsteps are so sudden that I can't help but shiver. Closer and closer they get, faster and all the more frantic.

Just as I expected, he rushes past the cave and away to the desert. We wait for half an hour, long enough that it's clear he won't be coming back.

"Well, we survived that," Theory says, relieved.

He hisses in pain as do Solar and I. With Falcon no longer here to take up our attention, nor any pain med shenanigans, there's nothing to distract us from the burns the acid rain gave us.

I know there's nothing in the first aid kit that'll solve this, but I check it anyway. Yep, nothing. Nothing but not even a half dozen painkillers. No solution of any kind.

"Why couldn't they give us some medical supplies?" Theory groans. "Did they think it'd be too easy if they did?"

"Maybe they just felt like being mean?" Solar says. "Mission accomplished…"

"Well, if we were caught in it then everybody else probably was too," I say. "At least we're not alone in this."

We're not alone, burnt or not, for a moment more either. The anthem briefly plays throughout the arena, but it's surely not time for the anthem when it's light out.

The anthem soon ends, replaced by Twinkle's cheerful voice emitting from the sky itself.

"Helloooooooooo tributes!" Twinkle trills out. "How're you all doing today? What's shaking? What's going on? What is UP?!"

Solar and Theory just stare, unamused. I just settle for a light shrug.

"Well, your voice is coming from the sky, so… you?"

"Whoa, you're all having a great day? I'm so glad to hear it, guy!" she says, ignoring anything we might've said. "Well, it's about to get much, much greater! At sunset at the cornucopia we're gonna be holding a feast and everyone is invited! You're all gonna love it so, so much!"

Bloodshed. Death. Forgive me if I highly doubt I would love it.

"We have it all for you guys! Water, water everywhere and many drops to drink!" Twinkle continues. "Come along and you'll never go thirsty again!"

I suppose being dead would technically count as such. Solar and Theory are already shaking their heads, disinterested by Twinkle's offer.

"Oh, how silly of me! I almost forgot the most important thing on offer!" Twinkle says, the sound of her slapping her palm to her head echoing across the arena. "There will be acid soothing cream on offer for any acid related wounds you might've suffered recently for some reason or another! There's no other way to get any, so I'd suggest thinking carefully about skipping the feast. Can you really win if you can't focus on anything but your searing burns?"

That statement hangs ominously for some time.

"See you later guys!" she concludes. "Oh, and if you can't find the cornucopia then won't even worry, we're sending you guys a way to find it free of charge! May the odds be ever in your favour."

At last she stops talking. A moment later three parachutes begin to float down towards us. While Solar and Theory catch their gifts, I look around for any signs of a fourth parachute. Could someone else be hiding nearby, close enough to see our own parachutes fall?

Nothing as far as I can tell. With that peace of mind I open up my parachute; it contains nothing but a fancy looking watch and a sheet of paper rolled up with an elastic band.

We all put on the watches and listen to Theory as he reads off of the paper. Surely all papers would say the same thing, would they not?

"Enjoy your codex," he reads. "A watch of numerous useful functions, you'll be benefiting from just one. The watch will glow brighter when you are facing the cornucopia. May the odds be ever in your favour."

We turn side to side, all of our watches glowing brightly as we move towards the left. One brief exchanged glance is all it takes. We know that we're going to that feast.

What we don't know is if we're all going to survive it, because with everybody sure to be suffering acid burns, who would pass up the invitation to solve the problem?

"We'll make a plan on the way," Solar says. "Let's go."

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

The plan is set by the time the sun is getting close to setting on the horizon. It's all the more reason for us to pick up the pace; if we're late then no plan we make will work because there'll be nothing left for us to take.

We'll take it at a run, it's the only way to play this. We'll be straight in and straight out. I'll hold the shield and lead us in a straight line towards the supplies while Solar and Theory keep their knives at the ready. Once there they'll load up while I shield us all, and then we'll flee past the tail of the cornucopia.

There have been better plans in the history of the Games, but there have also been poorer plans that somehow worked anyway.

All too soon we arrive at the dunes surrounding the cornucopia. Sure, we're here on time… but we're also here. This could be the end of me, or of Solar and Theory or maybe all of us.

But, as a nasty sting on my shoulder reminds me, it's the only way. We need the supplies.

I can't see any of the others, but they'll be here. Maybe someone's inside the cornucopia, maybe they're hidden behind another dune around the horn.

All I know, looking left right and over my shoulder, is that they're not coming right at me. Not yet.

"You ready?" Solar asks Theory.

"No," he admits, his fingers shaking. "I'm not."

"How about you Beth?" she asks me. "Are you ready?"

Even having made much of the plan and gripping the shield right now I don't hesitate to answer in the negative.

"Not at all."

"That's alright," she says. "I'm not either."

Then there's that grin of hers again. The one I can't help but like more each time I see it.

"But if we're not ready, no way are the others ready. Falcon got hit by the acid worse than we did. The careers were all covered in it before the storm. And Seafoam? Probably immobile from it miles away. No way any of them are ready either."

It's not much, but it's something. It's pure facts, exactly what I like to work with. When it comes to it, we're truly not in the worst shape of everyone. If we don't linger too long then that will only continue to be true.

Maybe if I'm lucky the careers, battered by acid or not, will have enough fight left in them to kill Falcon for me.

Our codexes beep as one. Something starts to happen down by the cornucopia.

The ground splits apart, plenty of sand spilling over the edge and into whatever lays in the catacombs underground. A few moments later a round table covered by a fancy tasselled table cloth rises into our view.

Upon the table are numerous bottles of water and, the greatest treasure of all, a dozen thick tubes of acid relief cream.

Just like that, silence. Just like that, a question - who's going to make the first move?

Normally I'd prefer to let others make the first move and, I would hope, make the first mistake. But we need that cream and we can't risk being here for long. If the rest truly aren't here, somehow, then this would be the perfect time to act.

Even if it's not perfect, it's better to get it over with before the others can make a plan or make a move to harm us.

"Let's go."

We rush down the dune with all the speed we can manage. The adrenaline must be kicking in, because I'm rushing down the dune faster than I would've believed I could, especially when the burns still hurt so much. For a few moments Solar and Theory even struggle to keep pace with me.

We're halfway to the table when the other tributes reveal themselves. There's no missing Falcon's yelling from somewhere afar to my left nor any missing the careers as they emerge from within the cornucopia, all with weapons at the ready.

The only one who's missing is Seafoam, not that this truly changes much. Just one less cannon that would end up firing.

The careers are closer to the supplies, but they've gotten hit way worse by the acid than we did. It's hard to tell which burns are from the rain and which are from us, but they clearly didn't get to cover within the cornucopia anywhere close to fast enough. Their skin is red all over, patches of their hair have been wiped out, some skin is outright peeling off…

It's hard to miss out there's no skin at the tips of three of the fingers on Sun's left hand. Bone peaks out from where it used to be.

No doubt they're even more desperate than we are for the cream, and they're all the more willing to kill for it. Button acts first, hurling a spear towards me.

Luckily, the shield bares it with ease and the spear bounces off to the ground. My legs burn, but I can't let that stop me. We have to keep moving.

"Keep together!" I yell. "Keep moving!"

We keep the pace and keep the momentum. Sun tries to strike me with his sword, but the shield takes it just as easily as the spear. I run right at him, sending him down to the sand. As he scrambles away, blinded for now by sand in his eyes, Solar and Theory work fast to stuff bottles of water and tubes of cream into their bags.

"Hurry, hurry!" I urge them.

They're fast, but Clamantha is faster. Driven by desperation for the cream, or just hatred for how we scorched her so badly with acid, she lunges forth and swings her trident with such force.

It's too much to counter. The shield is sent flying out of my grasp. It lands some ten or fifteen feet away. Clamantha doubles over from the force she used, giving us a chance to run.

"Go, go, go!"

Solar and Theory try, but almost run into Sun and Button. Solar is chased by Sun, while Theory flees from Button. I take my chance to grab one last tube of cream and get as far away from Clamantha as I possibly can.

I don't make it far before Falcon launches himself into me. He seems to have lost his weapons and gained a fresh scratch across his cheek since I saw him at the canyons - mutts, maybe? - but it's easy enough for him to start restraining me.

I fight back. I punch him. Kick him. Writhe and shout. None of it does any good as he takes me into a lockhold from behind keeping my arms restrained to my sides. While he fights to keep me trapped and I fight to break free - a losing battle for myself - I call for help from my allies.

Theory is still being chased by Button. He's able to avoid the slightly bigger boy easily enough due to his nasty burns, but he can't quite land a killing blow, or any blow really. For now Theory will be of no help to me.

I look to Solar. She's given a nasty punch by Sun, but headbutts him before he can try to use his sword. He staggers blindly, howling as blood pours from his freshly broken nose.

Clamantha ignores all of this, frantically squirting the contents of an entire tube over her arms and rubbing it on. Her relief and whimpers of joy are obvious. After taking a moment to survey us all she moves on to chugging one of the bottles of water.

"Let go!"

"Quit struggling! It ends here!"

"Get off! Solar! Theory!"

"I said stop!"

I'm wearing myself out, but Falcon is starting to struggle to keep me held in place. Try as I might, I just can't quite wriggle free. He headbutts the back of my head and for a moment I can only see stars.

Once my vision clears the first thing I see is Solar on her knees and Sun staggering around blindly with blood all over his face. He keeps his sword held rightly in his right hand, using the other to frantically wipe away the blood.

Some of it clearly went into his horribly seared eye.

Falcon grips me so tightly I struggle to breath.

"Stick her One!" he screams. "Get her! Now! Kill her!"

Sun looks towards us. Even with the acid and the blood ailing him he sees us and can't help but grin. He marches forth, one haggard step at a time.

"A kill? For me? Why how generous of you, Nine boy."

"Let me go!"

I struggle with whatever energy I can still summon, but it's not enough. Falcon's got me tightly. He's tiring, but I'll be dead before he runs out of energy.

Twenty feet. Fifteen feet. Ten feet. Five feet. He keeps coming and he's rearing back the sword.

This is the end. This time I don't have it in me to look my killer in the eye.

"You deserve this," Falcon hisses, surely the last thing I'll ever hear.

There's a howl of pain from Sun. Then there's rapid footsteps.

"TORPEDO BOMBER!"

Wait, is that… is that Seafoam?

Sun grunts as he hits the ground. I open my eyes to quite the shocking sight.

It's Seafoam… and he looks fine. There's not a single sign of dehydration ailing him or a single burn from the acid. He looks better than when I last saw him; any wounds from the cacti are gone or at least no longer causing him pain. If anything he seems better off now than the early days. Sponsors? No, those cacti I saw harvested… he must've known how to survive off of them. But how? He missed almost all of the training days!

He grins, sneering now more than ever before. He stands with a foot atop Sun's back, the older boy laying on the ground after, I assume, having been knocked over by Seafoam's trident.

Nearby a spike, coated in fresh blood, pokes out of the sand. Is… is that the spear I buried? Did Sun somehow manage to step upon it?

"Not so tough now, are you?" Seafoam mocks Sun, stomping atop him and grinding his heel in. "Pay attention Nines, this is how a victor kills a tribute!"

Seafoam raises his trident and without any delay he thrusts the spikes downwards… but he completely misses Sun's spine. Though clearly, that was never his target.

Instead he pierces the trident right into Sun's backside. Sun screams and howls, all while Seafoam tears the spikes out and stabs them down again, and again… and again… and again. He laughs the whole time, keen to kill Sun via only stabs to his rear.

Already there's so much blood. The back of Sun's pants looks like a torn chunk of raw meat.

I'll admit it, this was pure luck. This time I'll just shut up and take it.

It's a horrible enough sight for Falcon to loosen his grip and start gagging. I take the chance - my only chance I'll get - to finally break free and run past Seafoam. He's too busy finishing Sun off to pay me any mind.

A moment later he finishes shredding up Sun's rear and tries to kill Falcon. Falcon manages to leap back and evade him, more's the pity.

Theory is on the ground beneath Button, managing to hold him back for the moment, while Solar is on her knees and shaking as Clamantha approaches her.

The shield is still where it landed on the ground. It's between myself and Clamantha. It'll do.

Clamantha may have applied the cream, but she's still not at full power and she has her back to me. I manage to bowl her over, leaving her scrambling to get up and retreat towards the cornucopia. It's enough of a distraction to reach Solar and help her up.

"You OK?"

"Been better," she wheezes. "I've got the stuff, let's get out of here."

"After we get Theory?"

"Duh. C'mon, he needs us!"

Does he though? As soon as we're up and ready to run to Theory's aid he finally manages to free himself from Button with a solid punch to the latter boy's throat. I have nothing truly against Button, but I would love it if he would get off of Theory. Now.

A trident, Seafoam's trident, soars through the air and buries itself right into Button's back. In seconds he's slumped over to the side, dead, and Theory is free to get back up.

That was not what I wanted.

Seafoam, however, clearly did. He laughs, whoops and cheers, remarking that he didn't even think he'd make the hit. He quickly doubles back, adamant that he actually knew he would make the hit just fine.

All I can think of is the twelve year old in District Eight who just lost his brave older brother, the person who made sure he wasn't here with the rest of us.

While Seafoam runs to retrieve his trident and Clamantha duels Falcon over by the launch plates, Theory rushes towards us.

"Run!" he urges. "The dunes! The dunes! Over them, now!"

He need not tell me twice. Solar flees ahead of me while I quickly step backwards, shield up high and my eyes set upon Theory. Once he's past me we'll be free to escape over the dunes. Itself a tough task, but nowhere as dangerous as remaining here.

If luck is real, then perhaps jinxing is as well. I thought it right to assume that Seafoam was never going to be a threat, but he's dominated. He's merciless. He's running about the sand faster than anyone else can, thirsty not for water but for more kills.

He rushes past Theory, not quite within attacking range. He hurries toward the trident… only to suddenly pivot around to face Theory.

"Theory! Duck!" I scream.

Theory obeys right as Seafoam hurls a knife at him. It should sail harmlessly over his head.

But of course, Seafoam isn't anywhere as well trained as Clamantha and - aside his million to one hit against Button - is prone to flubbing his stabs and messing up his throws.

The knife is thrown hard, but totally misses where Theory's head had been. Mainly because Seafoam lost his grip too soon and the knife went low.

It strikes Theory right into his lower back. He tumbles down with a raw scream. He can barely crawl two feet forwards before Seafoam catches up.

"THEORY!"

Solar can't watch and I don't know why I keep watching. Taking a moment to sneer at me and give such a foul wink, he yanks Theory's head back by his hair and roughly slits his throat.

Seafoam can't even do that right, doing such a poor job. The blood is everywhere and even from afar there's no missing the gurgles, the rasps, the choking, the despair in Theory's eyes as they begin to glaze over.

Seafoam gives up doing it properly and settles for stabbing until Theory stops moving. Seeing that we're too out of range to attack he ends off by spitting our way and rushing to grab his bloodied trident.

As we reach the top of one of the dunes, about ready to throw up or pass out, I don't know or care which, I glance back one last time at the mayhem.

Three bloodied corpses and three living tributes are what I see. Falcon is running for his life up the dune furthest back from us, leaving Clamantha behind. The last career turns to Seafoam, but whatever she said didn't seem to be anything he liked hearing. He turns his trident onto her and suddenly she's the one running for her life over a different dune, leaving Seafoam with all of the prizes.

We run after that. We run, legs burning. We run, chests hurting. We run, hearts pounding.

Solar and I run and we'll keep running until we collapse. Whatever comes next, we run.

We run as three cannons boom throughout the arena.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

Lost in the desert, Solar and I sit beside a fire. With the heat dropping through the night, we couldn't hold out against the temptation. We can't go on without warmth.

We sit side by side, huddled up for extra heat, as the anthem plays and Sun, Theory and Button are shown before they're gone forever.

Just five of us left. Someone, I'm one of them.

Our acid wounds were all taken care of by the tubes of cream, but just as one issue has been taken care of another has taken its place. Seafoam.

Was this his plan? Appear utterly useless and the very image of a terrible tribute, only to reveal the truth later on to pick us off with ease? Tributes have done so before… but no, this doesn't quite add up either. His reactions to falling rear first into the cacti were genuine as they get and the way he threw a knife at Theory was clearly flubbed.

Not to mention how he clearly had no idea how to properly slit a throat. Then again, nor do I.

I don't think it's truly because he's skilled. It's more that the rest of us are so beaten and tired, while he's stayed hydrated and somehow dodged all the acid, that he's essentially playing the Games on easy mode. Of course he'd seem so strong if the rest of us are desperate and so very worn down.

The question is, what are we going to do about him? The acid burns are solved and we have water, but we're still tired. Still hurting from our other wounds. Still feeling the pain of losing all of our other allies… friends… while Seafoam has no such things to be concerned about.

Let's also not forget that, wounded as they are, Clamantha and Falcon are still out there and still very dangerous. Our only real advantage over them? Our alliance is the only one left.

Considering who we're up against, it only makes sense for us to keep working together. It just makes sense… and I don't want to lose my last friend. I'm not ready. Thankfully Solar is of the same mind. So, we remain huddled and trying not to listen too deeply to the noises of the night.

I'm sure I heard a distant cry of 'Mama' from out in the darkness, though it could've just been my own imagination. I've seen so much that it's doing something to my head.

I just need my mind to hang in there for a few more days.

"So what's the plan for tomorrow?" Solar asks.

"I should be asking you the same," I say. "I think you make better plans."

"Do I? You got us through the feast."

"Not all of us. If I'd planned better, if I'd accounted for Seafoam not being useless, if I'd just held Onto the shield tighter…"

"He was a good kid. Really good."

"Yeah…"

"...Yeah."

But she remains adamant that I make good plans, or at least I make plans that have gotten us almost to the very end. Even with Theory's death, we did get the water and acid cream we needed, and I did send Clamantha sprawling down before she could kill Solar.

Even before that, I did manage to put an end to Sturm and his deadly weapon.

I suppose I have it in me to come up with one more plan, something to at least keep us away from the other tributes.

"They all know we're the last alliance, so they'll be hunting for us. But the fours will be hunting for Falcon as well. Clamantha had no reservations about trying to kill him just because he was closer to her by the end."

"So we let the fours hunt Falcon down?"

"Ideally. But this deep into the Games, we can't just keep running. They send mutts after us or lead the rest right towards us. You know they will."

"I do… so, what do we do then? I can't fight worth shit anymore, Beth."

"...You might not have to. We might not have to. Solar, do you remember what Theory said?"

"I remember a lot of what he said. Kinda hurts thinking about it."

"Oh… sorry… but do you remember what he told us about the snake mutts? The ones that vomit acid, and I guess the ones that breathe fire?"

She thinks on that for a moment, soon snapping her fingers as the answer hits her.

"If their rattles are taken off, they become immobile," she says. "That's where Theory got the acid for those balloons of his."

"Right. But the thing is, I don't think we'll even need balloons. They can still vomit acid in some way if the rattle is gone, so… what if we used them to shoot acid at the others? What if we could use the other type as a flame thrower?"

Solar's grin is nothing short of affectionate and demented. I rather like it.

"Beth, you're crazy," she says. "I'm in. Let's find us some snakes."

A chilly gale passes through the desert, making us shiver to the bone. We agree that it'll have to wait until morning once the sun comes up. If we're outright looking for the snakes then the gamemakers will provide; why wouldn't they when it gives them a show?

But sleep doesn't come easily. We saw Theory die, horribly so. That's not even getting into everything else and the images that I see every time I close my eyes. No, tonight shall not be a restful one.

"You still awake Beth?"

"Of course. Feels impossible to sleep."

"You gonna be on watch then?"

"Sure, but I think we both know you're not gonna be getting any sleep either."

"Yeah, pretty much."

We're silent for a while, stargazing. No words are spoken. It's quiet enough that I can hear Solar's soft breathing. Quiet or not, sleep still doesn't arrive.

"Just five of us left," Solar eventually says.

"We've known that for hours."

"Yeah, but… it's almost over. It's almost over."

"How long has it been? Not even two weeks?"

"No, but it feels like two years."

Solar talks, whether to herself or to me I'm unsure of at times, about home. About her brothers. About what she wants to do if she gets out of here. She's even decided on her victor talent… of all things, it's going to be sleeping.

"Is sleeping really a talent? Anyone can do that… except us right now."

"Sure it is, but I'll stay in bed for a month. After this, who could blame me?"

"Not me."

"So, what would your victor talent be?"

"...I have no idea. Never thought about it. Not medium stuff though. I'd rather die in here than have to keep doing that."

"Maybe your talent could be smiling for the cameras? You've got a really nice smile."

"...Thank you," I can't help but blush.

Solar clearly knows who she is and what she wants to be if she were to win, or at least she knows exactly what comes next. But, I don't. I'm no closer to knowing now than I have been all along. Solar, naturally, picks up that I'm upset.

"Theory's death getting you down? You're not alone."

I don't respond.

"Or is it something more? I told you, you're not at fault for the cult," she says. She takes my hand, getting me to turn and look at her. "It's not your fault. It never should've been your mess to clean up. Falcon's wrong, OK?"

Her every reassurance. Her every kind word. Her hand on mine. It's so nice… but the cult and my role in it, it's not quite what's bothering me right now.

"Remember when I broke down? After we got away from the… baby?"

"Yeah. There's no shame in crying, you know? The baby was fucking dangerous."

"It was," I instantly agree. "But, I… I had a lot of things in my mind while I was losing it. One of them has been on my mind… on and off, but never gone…"

"Yeah? What is it?"

"I don't know what I'm going to do after this. The cult was my life… now it's over. I did what I had to do to live my own life, but what life am I even going to live? How can I when… when…"

Solar patiently waits for me to find the right words.

"I don't know who I am."

"You're Beth."

"But what does that even mean?"

"Well, I'm not Beth. You are. I think you're the one who gets to decide that."

"But I don't know where to even begin! Plenty of people have died who did know who they were and did have a family, friends or something to go back to. I don't have anything Solar. It's been weeks since I was home… its been almost two weeks since the Games began… I still feel lost. It's the final five and I still don't know who I am."

"Do you really have to have worked it out by now?"

"...I guess I thought, hoped, I'd think of something if I lived this long."

"Maybe it's not about finding the answer. Maybe it's about living long enough to start that journey. Begin a new chapter. I mean, I didn't know who I was overnight."

"How long did it take you?"

"I dunno, seventeen years? I'm still a work in progress."

It's a while before we say anything after that. I'm lost in thought, thinking over what Solar said. She's lost in thought, wondering what she ought to say next.

"...I have an idea of who Beth is, if you wanna hear it?" Solar offers

"I'd love to," I tell her.

"She's my friend. She's really smart. She might seem aloof and distant, but it's obvious she cares. She made the very best of a pretty shitty situation. She's exactly who I want to share company with, and right now I trust her with my life."

I must look like I'm burning. The flattery has me blushing like a Capitol stoplight, and I don't want it to stop. Ever.

"She's also a really lucky girl. Maybe the luckiest girl alive. She proves luck is real."

Her grin is what the boys of Village would describe as 'shit eating'. I'd call it equal parts punchable and adorable… the former wins out, but I'm too tired to do any punching.

"...Whatever. Luck, no luck, we're alive either way."

"And if we're really lucky, we'll survive the snakes tomorrow too."

"Shut up."

She laughs. I scowl. But soon I'm smiling again. How can I not when I've… eerrrgghhh… lucked out into having such a great friend, even in the arena?

"Thank you Solar."

"You're welcome, Beth."

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

We wake up a little after dawn. We didn't get much sleep, but… it'll do. The sooner we get moving, the sooner we'll find a snake we can use to fight the others with.

The thing is, where would we even find a snake? They seem to just come out of the dunes and the flatter sand at random times. Is there a nest of them somewhere, or do they only appear when the gamemakers feel like it.

I debate the idea of simply asking the gamemakers to send some snakes out way, but that thought is quickly discarded. My idea of 'some' and the gamemakers' idea of 'some' is sure to be different, likely with fatal consequences.

Searching and hoping it'll have to be. At least so far there's been no sign of any of the other tributes. If… sigh… we're lucky, then Seafoam and Clamantha will be hunting down Falcon. If luck insists upon itself even further, perhaps Falcon will take out one of the fours as well/

"How's the arm?"

"Eh, not great but it felt worse when I first broke it," Solar says. "Your sling's doing a good job."

"It'd be better if we had more medical supplies."

"Any painkillers left?"

"Fresh out."

We wander for miles, up and down half a dozen dunes along the way. Still, no snakes show themselves. Vulture mutts fly overhead as midday approaches, but they're very much the wrong kind of mutt.

They, of course, make sure to swoop and peck at us. It's a good thing we had some bandages left over. In the end, after harmlessly flying overhead for twenty minutes, the mutts leave off of their own accord.

A hiss tells me exactly why they did.

A lone snake mutt slithers its way towards us. It rattles its tail and opens its jaws before we can try to attack it or sever the rattle. Solar is just out of range to avoid the hit, but I suffer the brunt of the mutt's attack.

It's not acid nor is it fire. It's as if I were shot with a peacekeeper's taser. The mutt, even just for a moment, breathes out a bolt of electricity.

I can't wonder how such a thing is possible. Not when I'm screaming and twitching on the ground, unable to stand.

Solar acts quickly, taking advantage of the snake being distracted by me and stomping its head underfoot. A trio of quick stabs later and the snake is no longer a problem.

It's also no longer usable.

"I panicked," Solar apologises when I point this out. "We'll use the next one then."

"Sure," I say. "We found this one eventually, we'll find another before sundown."

It's about an hour later that we manage to do so. This time we see it coming and both manage to dodge its spray of acid.

It pauses, gargling as it readies a second blast. Solar leaps upon it to pin the snake down with her body weight while I quickly cut off the rattle. Just like that, the snake becomes immobile. It's easy to pick it up after that. Even facing me it doesn't react or try to attack, even though it's clearly alive and clearly knows I'm here.

"So, how do we make it spew acid?" Solar asks.

"Theory said that we'd have to tickle the snakes under their chins."

I do just that. The snake vomits a hearty mouthful of acid, the corrosive liquid reaching as far as ten metres away.

Solar bumps her fist to mine, laughing and whooping.

"Those tributes won't know what hit them!"

"I think they will. Acid doesn't kill quickly."

"...Shit. Brutal."

But she's right. This snake is the only way we can realistically fight back against the others. A girl with a broken arm and a girl who is a dainty doll, what other way is there for tributes like that to fight against our current competition?

I guess the only thing to do now is to find them, or get somewhere that they'd be unable to sneak up on us.

Solar's idea is perfect - returning to the rock formations. If we can get up there again, then we could simply spray the others if they make any move to climb up towards us.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

It's approaching sunset when we reach the rock formations. We got a little lost, but at least we had plenty of water to keep us from getting too dehydrated.

With one trial over, another begins. Climbing up the rocks. Perhaps we should've thought this through a bit better… how is Solar meant to get up there with a broken arm?

I'd try to give her a boost, but I'm not so sure I could support her weight. Helping her up from the ground is a lot different than boosting her to a platform above us. Perhaps we'll have to settle for standing with our backs to the rock formation so nobody can sneak up on us.

For now we sit with our backs against the rock, enjoying the sunshine. This late in the day it's not too hot and not too cold. It's nice.

"How many more days do you think it'll be until there's a victor?" Solar asks.

"Not many," I say. "Two… three… no more than four."

"So, we'll be having to say goodbye."

"I suppose we will. But…"

I think for a moment that I hear movement. There's nothing there, even as I carefully peer around. Solar joins me in looking for signs of trouble, but there's nothing.

"...But?" Solar prompts me to continue.

"But… I don't want to say goodbye. I've never had a friend like you, and I'm not really convinced that I'll have another like you if I win. The others back home won't want anything to do with me."

She lays her hand over mine.

"If you win, you'll find a way. You've found a way past everything so far. If escaping that baby is something you can do, how hard can making a friend be?"

They're not at all the same thing, but the sentiment is clear. We interlock our fingers, gently giving each other's hand a squeeze.

"It's not time yet. There's still the other three to go. We don't have to say goodbye yet."

"But we'll have to soon… I don't want to say goodbye."

"Then you won't have to," says another voice.

We both lunge aside, by now an instinct at the first sign of anything unfamiliar. A trident hits where my right arm had been.

Clamantha stands ten feet away, having suddenly gotten up from under a tarp that perfectly blends in with the desert. There must have been another at the cornucopia aside the one the tributes from 10 had gotten.

Solar grabs Clamantha's trident with her good arm. I join her in holding it towards Clamantha.

The fisher girl appears a little wary, but mostly annoyed and tired. She sighs, taking a curved dagger off of her belt.

"Just die quick, would you? I wanna go home," she mutters.

"Aren't you so glad you volunteered?" Solar sneers. "What, not having any fun being a kiddie killer anymore?"

"Don't call me that," Clamantha hisses.

"It's true though, innit? You killed kids, so you're a kiddie killer. At least when I killed it was self-defense."

"She's right," I say, tightening my grip on the trident's shaft. "You came here to kill."

"You volunteered too," Clamantha points out, eyes narrowing.

"Did you even listen to my interview?"

"...Just die," she says, getting herself into a fighting stance. "I'd rather gut your partner first, but you'll do fine in his place. Remember what he told me? That I should kill myself because it was 'bad enough I'm alive when nobody wants me'. I heard what you were talking about; nobody wants you either!"

"Well, I'm not going to kill myself."

"Then I'll do it for you," she says, rushing towards us.

We try to keep her held back with the trident. Just one hit and I'd surely have time to get the snake ready while she stumbles about. But even tired, wounded and probably running on fumes, Clamantha still knows how to fight and how to dodge. Eight times we try to stab her and eight times she is able to dodge out of the way.

Our best chance would be to keep her going until she tires out, opening herself for a quick counterattack. But she's just not going down. She's too desperate, too determined to finish us off. She's sweating, but so are we. We're sweating and panting more than she is.

At last she makes a mistake. She stumbles upon the sand, and it's all the time Solar needs to jab the sharp prongs of the trident into Clamantha's arm. The fisher girl howls and staggers, her arm stained crimson red.

"Quick! The snake!" Solar yells.

I waste no time in grabbing it out of my pocket. It won't take me more than a moment to get it ready to spray Clamantha.

But it takes her even less time to rush Solar again, getting so close that I can't hit her without hitting Solar at the same time. They wrestle over the trident while I try to run forth and help wrench the weapon away from Clamantha.

She takes hold of it just as I arrive. One swing of the trident sends us flying back and the snake rolling down the slope.

Solar throws sand in Clamantha's face and kicks her hard in the knee. It's almost enough to knock Clamantha over then and there.

My blood runs cold and my heart stops when I see it's plainly not enough to stop Clamantha from thrusting her trident down into Solar and tearing it back out.

Solar's screams are nothing to my own raw wails. Clamantha barely reacts as she turns her attention from Solar to myself.

"Just die so I can go home."

It's near impossible to think over the moans of my bleeding, dying friend and the threatening pace Clamantha comes at me with. My mind is near-blank to all but grief for Solar and hatred for what this girl has done.

She did it and she liked it. She at least liked it enough to simply not care. Not feel. She's blank. Just like how I used to be.

I dodge three strikes of the trident before Clamantha has to pause and wheeze, rubbing sand from her eyes. But she maintains a block with the trident. My knife won't work right now.

But the snake. The snake will work, if only I can reach it before the trident reaches my vital organs.

There it is, at the base of the slope near the mass of cacti. Just about close enough for me to run and grab it.

But Clamantha has gotten rid of the sand and is ready to score another kill.

No, not another. Solar isn't dead yet.

But she will be.

She'll die alone, without me right there if I don't finish this fight quickly.

I'll die too if I can't reach the snake first, and what then? I'd die knowing I failed, and Solar would die having to listen to me being killed as well.

Clamantha is right behind me as I hurry down the slope. I weave left and right, trying to make myself a harder target.

The trident soars past me as I veer left, missing by barely a few inches. Good, I'd rather deal with the dagger than the trident.

I reach the snake, swiping it up and throwing myself to the side. Clamantha almost runs into the cacti, barely stopping herself in time. She turns to me, dagger held high.

By then I'm on the ground, looking up at her… and without a word I tickle the snake under its chin.

Clamantha has no chance. No chance to run or dodge. The snake vomits what must be at least two gallons of acid all over her. At this ranger every last drop hits her. Clamantha is left to stumble and scream in horrific, purest agony.

Her skin peels away. Her eyes melt and her eyelids dissolve in moments. A few fingers are reduced to bones. With a shuddering wheeze she collapses face-first against the cacti where she becomes stuck on the spines.

For a few seconds she twitches, until suddenly she doesn't. The cannon booms.

I'm up and scrambling over to Solar before I've even started to catch my breath. There's so much blood coming from her guts. She's struggling to move. Struggling to keep her eyes open anymore. There's no point in checking the first aid kid; this is beyond all but the greatest doctors in Panem.

There's nothing I can do for her.

I'm not sure when I started crying, but Solar notices it before me. She manages to reach up and take my hand. I hold hers right back, afraid of the incoming moment where I'll have to let go.

I don't want to say goodbye…

"...You get 'er…?"

"Yes. I got her."

"Good… did good…"

"I… I…"

"Imma done…" she coughs out blood as she speaks.

"Don't remind me," I can barely speak past the sobs and tears.

"You need… to… win…"

"I'll try."

"Don't try… win…

"OK. I'll win."

Her grip is getting weaker. I hold her hand all the tighter.

"Go… home… live… your way… good person… Beth"

"Am I? If I were good… I'd have been fast enough."

"Good… person…"

She holds on for a precious minute longer, barely responsive. She coughs up blood, mumbles something to her brothers, coughs up more blood, mumbles something I can't make out aside from my name.

At last her eyes glaze over and, as her grip fades and her hand drops, her head tilts to the side.

The cannon booms.

I break. I can't help it. I know that crying changes nothing and only serves to leave me open for attack. Just two years ago the girl from 11 died because she knelt and mourned her just-slain district partner.

But it's impossible to feel nothing. It's good to feel something. I'm not pretending for someone else or being forced to make myself feel a way that I truly don't. This despair, it's all mine. The dead friend below me, she mattered to me.

Without her I wouldn't have made it this far. Without her I'd still have no idea who I was or what to do. It's quite doubtful I'd have lasted longer than the bloodbath if she hadn't recruited me into her alliance.

But I can't mourn for long. Not when the hovercraft will want to take the bodies. Not when Seafoam and Falcon could have been near enough to hear the fights.

So much feels unsaid. Unfinished. But time is precious in the arena and there's never enough of it. So I stand and wipe my tears.

I'll mourn Solar properly when I get out of here. Already I have ideas for how she might be remembered, at least to me.

But first, I need to get out of here. I need to win.

"Goodbye Solar," I say, kneeling and gently shutting her eyes.

The wind picks up. A clear sign the gamemakers are impatient and it's time for me to move away, at least for now.

"Wish me…" I pause, hardly able to believe I'm at the point of saying it. "...Wish me luck. I met you, so it has to exist."

But, does it? If it truly was real, surely Solar wouldn't be dead.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

I ended up returning to the rock formation and, with great effort, climbing my way atop. To think just a few days ago, if that, I was up here with Solar and Theory. For a moment I'd felt safe.

But now it's just me, laying flat on my front under the darkening sky. I've been here for hours, waiting for something to happen. Waiting for anything to happen.

I can't help but keep looking back down to where Solar had died. Her body is gone but the blood staining the sand is still there.

There's been no sign of Seafoam or Falcon. I can see for miles from up here, but either they're hiding behind the dunes or they're just too far for me to glimpse even from up here. That's OK. Right now I'd prefer to be alone anyway.

But I'm not enjoying being alone either, though between that and spending time with two boys who actively want to kill me, it's not really a choice at all.

I stopped crying a while ago. I'm not sure I had any tears left. Even after making my way through three water bottles there's no more tears. I'm just numb.

I wonder, maybe for the three hundredth time, how I am to best the boys in a fight. The trident is too big and heavy for me to use, so pillaging it as a new weapon is pointless. I'm stuck with knives, and I'm not so sure they will be much good against a trident and whatever Falcon might have, because surely he'll have found himself another weapon. There were several left unclaimed at the cornucopia.

Maybe I should just keep my distance, wait for one to kill the other and then just stab the last one before he has a chance to breath or patch his wounds. As if they'd let it be quite so easy.

I guess I'll just have to wing it, or hope the snake has enough acid left in it for one more spray. It's been almost lifeless, unresponsive to my attempts to get more acid out of it so I might not even have that.

At least the boys won't be coming to the finale armed with snakes.

It gets darker and darker. Any minute now it'll be time for the anthem. As I lay in wait for it, and potentially my final look at Solar, there's the familiar gentle chime of a sponsor. A parachute slowly makes its way towards me, landing to my side.

What could Blossom be sending me? Even with the sponsor money the Weisz's have been sending, this late in the Games it'd still be so hard to send much of anything. Even one slice of bread would cost a fortune.

It's not much. No way could it be when it's so close to being over. Just a can of some sort of drink and a note. The drink doesn't seem to have any kind of brand or labelling to it, just the Capitol seal. Why send me a drink when I still have water?

The note explains it all.

-Drink for energy and calmness of mind. You're so close; you've got so much more support than you know. Stay alert, keep your shield in hand and know your enemy - you can do this. See you soon. Blossom.-

So, some kind of energy drink? Maybe medical in nature if it might calm me? Well, I won't want to use it too soon then, not if the effects might wear off before I need them most.

"Thank you," I whisper.

The anthem comes along barely a minute after that. As usual the Capitol seal is displayed for all of us to see. With it being so near the end, it feels as if the volume is all the higher. First is Clamantha and I can't help but feel such contempt for her. She wanted this, volunteered for this, came here for glory… and she killed my friend, having the gaul to request we die quickly because she wanted to go home. Right now I'm too incensed to give her any deeper thought and hold my scowl until she's gone.

My scowl fades and tears well up when Solar's face is shown up there. This time I struggle to keep watching, but I must. It very well might be the last time I see her. Not that I will ever truly see her again, but… I know what I mean.

"Goodbye Solar," I say, sniffling.

Solar is gone and it's quiet again. That might be the last time I'll get to see any image of her. All I can think of in my head is how she looked when she died, and… I don't want that to be all I can think of about her. She was so much more than just the girl from Five. So much more than the fourth placer this year.

I'm about to try and settle down, but that's when I notice something is happening. The sky is changing, more by the second. It's going from its usual nightly dark crimson to a grim grey.

It's a blackout across the desert. I can barely see anything other than the cacti down below and scattered around the dunes. They're all begun to glow so much brighter, to the point they're like the neon signs back in the Capitol.

Then my tribute uniform begins to do the same. Glowing brightly atop these rocks, I must look like a beacon to the boys. Their uniforms must be glowing as well, but I still can't see them.

I think to check the tarp I'd pilfered from Clamantha, thinking that if I were to hide under it then they'd fail to track me down… but no, that's glowing as well.

From afar a sandstorm has begun. It's not here yet, but it will be soon. It's like a tidal wave over the desert… it doesn't take a genius to know that being caught by it would be a death sentence. All I can do now is run from it before it reaches me.

I spend a few minutes getting myself down the grand rock formations. By the time I touch down on the sand the sandstorm is closer. Not dangerously so, but it will be if I stay where I am. So I run, I run as fast as I can in the opposite direction.

I run exactly wherever the gamemakers want me to be.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

They herd me towards the ruins. Of course it would be the ruins.

It's just as wrecked as it was last time I saw it. The only difference now is how more cacti are growing around it.

Thankfully there's no sign of that freakish baby.

There's no sign of the boys either. Either they're better at hiding than I thought, or I'm the first one here. Most likely the latter. With that thought in mind I chug down the drink Blossom sent me. It's some strange mixture of fizzy raspberries and cool wheat. An odd taste, but the effect is felt quickly.

I feel alert. Abuzz with energy. As if my woes and fears have been locked away in a cage. Finally, I can focus.

It's time to make a plan before either of the boys gets here… but what plan is there to make? Hiding? There's nowhere I can hide, my glowing uniform would give me away. Perhaps under the ruins, but if the baby is still down there I'd be condemning myself to a worse fate than what the boys could give me.

The best thing I can do here would be to position myself somewhere that I cannot be snuck upon. That or just hiding the fact I'm here, but again… where? Perhaps I could head inside the ruins? At least then there would be a few moments for me to think of a further plan before they see me, and a back entrance I could further retreat.

Just as I'm heading through the doorway a trident comes down, missing me by just a few inches. I'm already hurrying back as Seafoam steps into the light.

He's got blood over his face, and I don't think it's his own. He's painted it on like some sort of war paint… is it Sun's blood? Button's? Theory's? The blood of all of them?

The smell is horrific. My cheeks almost bulge when it hits my nostrils.

"How are you still alive?" Seafoam asks, shaking his head.

"I could ask the same of you."

"I was in the temple during the acid rain. It couldn't do shit to me," he sneers. "Oh, and the cacti had water, duh. There were books in my room back at the training centre and I was bored enough to read them. It was all in there."

He grips his trident tighter, aiming the deadly prongs at my face.

"I was hoping for someone a bit more challenging. Your one armed friend. Clamantha… well, I guess you'll do."

"You bet I will," I say, refusing to give this arrogant brat any satisfaction. He won't see me cry. He won't see me shiver. "I killed Clamantha."

"Pfffft, liar."

"I did. She died in great pain."

"Oh yeah? How?"

"Like this."

I yank the snake from my pocket and tickle its chin before he can react. He flinches, but to his relief and my horror nothing happens. Nothing but the drained snake weakly flicking its tongue.

He stabs my arm with his trident right afterwards, holding off from going for my throat so he can enjoy my screams. The blood has the bandages soggy and for several moments my vision flashes between what's here and just pure white.

By the time I'm maybe halfway able to focus he's already moved forth to kick me down.

"C'mon Nine! Run little bitch! Run, run, run!"

I try, but I don't make it far. Seafoam might be willing to let the chase play out, but the gamemakers aren't. The energy drink makes running a little easier, but that won't help when the gamemakers cause an impassable wall of cacti to rise out of the ground.

We're locked in. No leaving the ruins until only one is left. The sheer brightness at which they glow makes me unable to see. I try to run to the side, but I trip over loose rubble.

I can barely see out my aching eyes as Seafoam moves closer. He laughs, snorting. Vaguely, I can see him twirling his trident. He almost drops it twice.

"Pathetic! How'd you make it this far?"

I shut my eyes, barely having the time to mumble an apology to Solar. I won't be making it home.

Then Seafoam is screaming and grunting, and so is someone else.

"Get away from her," Falcon hisses. "She's mine!"

"Get off!" Seafoam shouts.

There's more sounds of fighting. I take the chance to crawl away as the boys grapple, exchange punches and continue to snarl at each other.

"Get off me Nine!"

"You don't seem to understand. She's not yours to kill; Lisbeth is mine!"

Seafoam screams, wheezing from what sounded like a rough punch in the throat.

"And so are you!"

Finally my vision clears and I force myself back up. I'm barely on my knees when Seafoam's screaming becomes terribly high pitched, trailing off into choking and despairing gasps.

Falcon has him from being and is still forcing him forwards against the cacti. The spikes have impaled through Seafoam's body and are poking out to the other side.

Falcon's made his own hands bleed, but he doesn't appear to care. Not when Seafoam is clearly done for. Only then does he leave him to die, spiked like an animal, and turn his attention towards me.

He stares at me, wiping his bloody hands on his pants. That's when I notice the snakes upon his belt - four of them in total. Against his glowing clothes their own colours stand out that much more. One red, one green, one yellow and one blue.

"Nowhere to run."

He starts walking forth. I begin stepping back.

"Nowhere to hide."

We keep moving.

"No more lies, no more tricks and no more sneaking around."

He starts to take one of the snakes off of his belt. How does he know how to use them? How did he manage to work it out?

I frantically ready the shield just as he readies his finger to tickle the snake under the chin.

"I'll kill you for the lies you've told!"

I raise the shield just as the snake vomits out bucketloads of acid. Small drops hit my shoes here and there, but not enough to sear through them. The worst of the blast is held back, and when I lower the shield I can see Falcon is furious by this fact.

"How'd you… how'd it… well, fine."

He roughly puts the green snake back and takes hold of the red one instead.

"Let's get this fight really heated up."

I don't bother with the shield this time. I flee as far back as I can in the scant seconds I have. He uses the snake as a flamethrower, sending an arc of fire out left and right, but it comes nowhere close to me.

I don't see why tributes insist on banter during a fight. It leaves them open. It reveals what their plans are. Put that way, he can keep doing it.

If he does, I may yet win this thing.

Falcon seems to realise how he'd clued me in and so, without a word, he sends another blast of acid my way. He aims upwards, sending it down in an arc. What can I do but hold the shield overhead and run in zig zags. It works, but it won't work forever.

What I need is some way to reach Falcon and do some sort of damage. If this keeps up then the drink's effects will wear off, I'll tire out and that'll be that. Falcon may be getting frustrated, but when he's standing still like that it's not as if he's tiring himself out.

Even if he was, he has more energy than I do. I need to get him to waste all of his. I need him to make a mistake.

I need him to make one soon, because my arm feels weak from the trident. Of all the times for Seafoam to land a good hit, why did it have to be now?!

"I see you're in pain," Falcon calls over to me. "You deserve this. You think that's bad? Think about how everyone feels for you pretending to be their loved ones! The Smarts! The Rothchilds! My parents! Everyone!"

He's angry, enough so that the next volley of acid is easy to dodge without even needing the shield. That's it - I need to enrage him, say horrible things. Whether they're true is irrelevant, I need only have him think it's real.

If he loses his temper, I'll have a chance to strike.

"You're acting like it's my fault they're all stupid!" I yell back. "I'm Capitol, they're District - it was always going to be that way!"

He's even angrier than I'd expected. His screams, his fury, it carries far beyond the cacti. He's so rough with the acid spewing snake that he ends up breaking its neck. He discards it, not caring he's lost one quarter of his attack.

The fire is sent my way again. He keeps on the move, focusing the fire in one straight burst. The shield bares it, but only from afar.

Up close, he'd cook my legs to ash.

"You think you're smart? Smart because you lied and took all of our money?" he screams, his voice cracking. "You're the reason you're about to die!"

I leap to the side, right through one of the smashed holes within the temple. Only a moment later a spray of toxic gas shoots where I'd been.

It smells like death. The smell alone almost has me kneeling over.

"I wasn't sleeping in that cave! I was listening, just out of sight! It's thanks to you and your little ally talking about the snakes that I know how to use them against you!"

…Shit.

He's too fast and I'm still a bit too slow. He catches up again and sends another burst of poison fumes towards me. I'm out the door before I can be consumed by them, but the fumes lingering in there surely mean I can't linger without suffocating.

I cry out. Some of the fumes hit the back of my beck. I feel the skin searing, like millions of fleas are biting into it!

Falcon doesn't follow, not right away. He'll be looping around the side of the temple to avoid his own fumes.

A cannon fires. Wait, Falcon?! …No, Seafoam's cannon never went off, did it? He'd been left to die while we fought.

Despite it all, I can't help feeling some pity for the boy whose face appears in the sky overhead for all of a moment.

But right now, I'm more focused on what he might have. What might I be able to use of his leftover gear to deal with Falcon?

I don't get long to search - only a few seconds - but Seafoam wasn't carrying much. Water bottles, rations from the cornucopia, acid cream he didn't even need. But there's something else at the bottom of the bag.

Seafoam must've impressed a lot of people at the feast, or just satisfied the bloodlust of the Capitol. How else could he have been sponsored this, something that only peacekeepers are allowed to own.

A flash grenade.

The notion of me being trained with these is a laughable one, but it seems they thought the same of Seafoam. The instructions are written on the weapon itself. Just pull the pin and roll it, or throw it, at the desired target.

To think he had such a thing, a way to easily leave us open for his trident and he didn't bother to use it. He was in death as he was in life - arrogant. Just as well he was, for my sake.

Falcon emerges around the side of the temple, blasting off more fire my way until the red snake finally can't do it anymore. He discards it in favour of the yellow snake, but I won't give him the chance to use it.

I throw the flashbang, waiting just a moment before covering my eyes.

With no warning at all, Falcon is left blinded and shouting, staggering about until he leans heavily against the temple wall. He can't see and he seems barely able to hear.

It's the only chance I have and I'm going to take it.

Knife in one hand and shield hefted up in the other, I make a final charge towards Falcon. Just long as I can knock him down it'll all be over.

It's a solid hit and he's sent stumbling back. Even blinded, he remains on his feet and slumped upon the wall. He's wide open, and it's time for me to end this. It's time to go home.

"Sorry," I can't help but say.

I bring the knife down.

He reacts, bringing up the yellow snake.

The knife is buried through his arm.

The snake shocks me head to toe. It's so painful, I can barely think. I can barely stand. Now it's me slumped against the wall, unable to hold onto the shield.

It's not over, not when I still have more knives. I hurry to stab Falcon again, but he's regained some of his bearings. He's not a knife. He's got a look of such contempt.

His knife reaches me an instant before mine reaches his. My knife ends up in his shoulder, but I've not got the presence of mind to plan what to do next, or tear it back out.

His knife is buried to the hilt in my gut. My breath is gone and my legs are weak. Between this and the blood pouring from my arm, I can hardly stand.

"Gh… ch… ack…"

Falcon sneers, triumphant. It's a haze to make sense of anything around me, but I see that the knives buried into him are too much even for him to bear. He yanks out the one in his arm, almost sending himself over. He struggles with the one in his shoulder, unable to pull it out but unable to handle the pain of it being in there.

I can hardly focus. I can hardly hear. The pain is turning into something else - absence. The less I feel, the closer death will be. It's not far now. But how can I turn things around when I'm more cut up than a piece of meat? I barely have the energy to stagger, let alone fight.

If I can't kill Falcon, what else can? I can't just grab one of his snake mutts, he'd just stab me as soon as look at me.

But… using mutts… of course.

I know what I have to do.

I have to go back there. I have to put myself in even more peril.

It's the only way. It's that or bleed out and die anyway.

I stagger away, supporting myself along the wall of the ruins. With Falcon in front of me, I'll have to take the long way around. It's getting hard to see. I sway with every step.

I want so badly to take the knife out, but I can't. I'd just die even faster.

I could get there faster if I cut through the temple itself. But the poison is still there; I'd be dead before I made it to the other side. The long way around it'll have to be.

It's so hard to walk. So hard to be alive. I have to lean my weight on the wall to stop myself sprawling down to the ground.

Distantly, I hear Falcon yelling for me to get back and die. Please, please let me be far enough ahead of him.

I stumble my way around the temple to the stairs. I barely remember the steps I took to get here. Falcon is so close, and I still have to make it down the stairs.

I sit myself down, scooting down one step at a time. It's slow, too slow, but better than breaking my neck.

I reach the bottom. I feel so weak. Everything is distant. Faraway. Bleeding. Pain.

Falcon tumbles down the stairs, foolishly taking it at a run. Did he die? Knock himself out? No such luck. He's staggering back up.

Must. Keep. Going.

Where's. That. Baby.

By the time I reach the second puzzle room I can barely walk. I'm left to crawl along the ground. Blood trickles off my arm. Blood drips from the stab.

"Nowhere left to run Lisbeth! the way back? I'm blocking it! Your allies? They're all dead! Your body? Wrecked! Just give up!"

No…

"Nobody even likes you! I was wrong to say Clamantha should've killed herself - you should've done it years ago!"

No…

"I'm shutting the cult down! I'm not letting you scam anyone else ever again! JUST GIVE UP!"

No!

At last, a closet. The door is invitingly open. It's a struggle, but I haul myself inside and shut the door.

If this is the end, it's better to die inside a closet than at the sharp side of Falcon's blade or down the baby's gullet.

Is the baby still here…?

Maybe not.

Maybe this is the end of me.

I lay back and close my eyes. It won't be long now. May as well die comfy…

"I see you!" Falcon calls. "I see the light in the closet! Do you think I'm stupid or something?"

He's getting close. So close. Only his wounds stop him from having already run over and finished me off.

"You're gonna wish… you had the… good sense to just… lay down and die already…"

Maybe if I die before he reaches me it won't be so bad.

"You don't belong in Panem!"

After all the lies I've told and the people I helped my parents scam… maybe I do.

"You're an insult to Nine!"

At last he stands on the other side of the door. I hear him trying to catch his breath. It won't be long until he does.

"It ends now."

I hear him fumble to grab the door handle.

"DADA…"

It's back. It's here.

From further down the corridor it lumber forth. I hear the squelches, the giggles, the moans and the sound of a smearing trail of blood left behind.

I also hear Falcon screaming at the sight of the baby. Put beside it, I'm a distant second. It's got Falcon's full attention now, and he's got the baby's full attention.

"What are you?! Get away! Back, back!"

The giggling gets louder. The baby quickly crawls forwards. Falcon hurls a weapon at it, likely a knife. Then another and another after that. The baby just laughs and babbles mindlessly.

At last Falcon seems to realise it's a lost cause. He begins to run away. I guess that's it then… he'll run, he'll run long enough for me to bleed out.

But then he screams and hits the ground. His screams are all the louder as soon as he's down; he pushed his body too hard and then must've landed on the knife still inside him.

It's all the chance the baby needs to crawl over where he fell, laughing and giggling all the while.

"No! Nonononono! GET AWAY FROM ME!

"MMMMM! DADA!"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Screams. Giggling. Cracks. Moans. Gurgling. Gulping. Silence.

"YUMMY!"

The baby lumbers away deeper into the temple. Good riddance to it.

I can hardly keep my eyes open. It's so tempting to drift away… I can't resist any longer.

Slumped in my own blood, everything starts to fade. The light of my clothes. The distant cannon. The inside of the closet.

I'm out of it and gone. The last thing I'm conscious of is trumpets and several people opening the closet door to drag me out.

I wish they'd stop touching me…

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

There's nothing, until suddenly there's something.

Reality comes into focus, terribly slow. I'm not sure how long it takes, but it suddenly clicks that I'm alive.

Then it hits me that I'm not in a desert or ruins, or even a closet. I'm in a bed.

A bed! Where am I?

The light is dim, barely there really. Nobody seems to be around. There's no windows, so who can say what time it is?

I'm alone, laid flat on my back in a teal medical robe. Several tubes full of some presumably lifesaving liquid are hooked into me. Everything feels distant and a bit floaty, but… but…

There's no pain. Nothing hurts. I feel like myself again. I check myself over… nope, nothing. No stab wounds, no acid burns, no scarring. It's almost as if I never even went into the arena in the first place.

I did it. I won the Hunger Games… it's over.

I've barely a moment to really let it sink in before the door opens. Hope rises in me at the thought of seeing Blossom. But then it's gone, for it's just a doctor.

"How long have I been out?" I ask. I'd love to ask more, but there's no way a worker like this would give me a real answer to any serious questions.

"Four days," the doctor says. "You'll be released tomorrow. We'll put you back under for final prep and check over."

I just nod and lay back. If that's what is to happen, then I can't stop it. It's bothersome, having to keep obeying others even after the Games, but one night of rest is hardly the worst thing in the world.

It's that baby that's the worst thing.

The doctor injects me with something and things get fuzzy really fast. I hope I won't dream of the baby, or of my dead allies and friends.

Rotor, Theory, Solar… they and everyone else who was there for me deserves more than being figures of my bad dreams.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

True to the doctor's word, I'm released from the hospital the very next day. It's hard to walk when my body is so tired, so… devoid. I'm skinnier than I was before the Games, and I was already lightweight as they come.

Apparently they had to artificially fatten up my muscles with steroids and liquified mixtures to ensure I'd retain the ability to walk.

I'm given a walking cane to support me as I make my way to the elevator. Apparently we're beneath the training centre, beneath the gymnasium where training was held. The elevator will be taking me up to the District 9 floor and from there… well, the doctors don't care because they aren't paid to have any role after I'm on that elevator.

Well fine. I'd much rather spend time with Blossom than another moment with the unfeeling doctors. At least even back as a medium I could fake an emotion. These guys have no emotions at all. It's creepy.

As soon as I'm on the elevator they're satisfied with a job well done and leave to who-knows-where. I push the button and just try to relax.

What do I even say? How does a tribute… no, a victor… how does a victor greet their mentor after they won? They never film such reunions. I've got nothing to go off of. I can't study this. I'll… just have to let it happen.

What do I do? What do I say?

I don't ponder it for long. The elevator doors slide open and I make my way out into the familiar sight of the District 9 floor. It's like absolutely nothing has changed about it.

Nothing but Falcon no longer being here.

But everyone else is here. Periwinkle, smiling widely as he often does. Epona, giddy as can be. My prep team… I'll be honest, I forgot what their names were, but at least they're happy.

In the middle of them all is Blossom, and she looks so relieved.

She doesn't wait for me to hobble over to her. She makes her way over, pulling me in for a firm, gentle hug. I needed this…

"I'm so glad to see you," she whispers.

I don't manage to say anything, but I think returning the hug as I am says enough.

"After all these years…"

She hugs me tighter. I do the same.

"I saved one…"

"It was inevitable, wasn't it?" Epona says, grinning despite the happy tears welling up in her eyes. "Every time a girl from District Nine volunteers, they always win."

"There were so many times where I didn't think I was going to make it," I say.

"We're all glad you did. All of us were rooting for you."

"Even Falcon's prep team? Even his stylist?"

It occurs to me that I never once saw them. I suppose there's no reason every worker of the Games would be quite so hands on as Epona would be.

Or maybe they're just sore losers. I decide right here, right now to never apologise for being alive, even if it did cost someone a promotion.

"All of us who were invested in you were rooting for you," Epona corrects herself.

"There were times where we were all afraid you wouldn't make it. Well, all of us except for Blossom," Periwinkle says. "But you just kept on getting lucky. My the final eight I knew you were bound to win."

Luck…

Nrrrggghhh…

…I decide it doesn't matter. So I got stupid lucky, ludicrously so. Does it truly matter if I'm alive? I decide it doesn't.

They catch me up on things that happened while I was in the arena, and just how beloved of a celebrity I've become. The Capitol adores me, they say. Their favourite victor in so long.

I wonder, is that because it's me, my Capitol heritage or is it them just liking 'Beth the Tribute'?

A lot of other stuff happened. With me being in the arena, screentime for the Crowley and Weisz families have practically quadrupled, as have the fights with each other they've gotten into. Not only that, both districts 9 and 5 have a lot more fans now than they once did.

Apparently the Capitol loved the alliance, the bond, the friendship that I had with Solar and were heartbroken when it came to an end. I'm not foolish enough to say it, but if they liked it so much… they could've just stopped the Games. They could just stop any time they want.

In the same way the Capitol's power would have destroyed me for being a medium, it could easily cease the Games and get its people to focus on something else.

All this and my prep team have been promoted to a higher district. A much better district they say; District 4. They-whose-names-I-cannot-recall all shake my hand and thank me.

Just this once, I allow myself to fall back into telling them what they want to hear. Let them think I'm happy for them. Let them think I remember who they are.

Periwinkle, too, was offered a promotion as well. District 1 of all places. He's certainly going up in the world from boring old District 9.

"But I turned it down," he says.

This is a shock. I don't have to fake any of how surprised I am.

"What can I say? It's been so long, I've kind of grown attached," Periwinkle says. "Besides, you're the first tribute I've reaped to victory. Why would I leave now of all times when you still have to get settled in? Oh, and there's the tour of course. Naturally I'll have to guide you through mentoring and sponsoring as well…"

"I can do that too," Blossom says.

"Oh, of course, of course. But with two tributes, you'll need to focus on your own tribute as well. We'll work it out as we go, same as always," Periwinkle says.

For the first time in weeks… things feel calm. Normal. Content.

I'd love to just stay here in the apartment, Blossom holding me and everyone giving me flattery. The prep team might not be sincere, but the knowledge that Blossom, Epona and Periwinkle are glad I'm alive and happy to see more… and actively want to spend time with me?

Dammit, I want more of this feeling.

But I can't have any. Not for all too long. Not when the victor interview is tonight - tonight! The Capitol is getting restless after having to wait for me to recover and they want the interview now. Apparently they might die if it doesn't happen.

We can't be having that, can we? It's only OK when tributes die.

"How long will prep take?"

"Oh, hours," one of my prep team says.

"Hours at least! Fingers crossed it'll only be hours," the second prep worker says.

"There's much work for us to do. The doctors, bless them, can't make victors look stylish, they can only keep them alive," the third prep worker finishes.

I'm led away without a chance to say much else, only the briefest of windows to glance back.

"I'll have your outfit ready sooner than you know," Epona says. "You'll look amazing!"

"We'll be going over etiquette later," Periwinkle continues, pausing to grin. "Not that you'll really need it, Capitol as you are!"

Blossom just gives me a gentle smile. It says it all.

"I'll be there before the show. I'll be in the audience on the front row the whole time," she says. "You'll be OK."

And so I let the prep team lead me out of the room to who-knows-where. I say to Blossom something like how I'll try to make her proud. It wouldn't do to give the worst interview.

As the elevator shuts behind me I hear her say one last thing.

"You already have."

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

Being prepped up felt even more thorough and invasive than what I went through for the parade. If I didn't already know that the doctors had healed all of my wounds, then I would've thought the prep team were attempting to scrub them away.

I didn't make a sound the entire time, just letting the prep workers chatter to themselves about how much fun they'll have working with tributes from District 1.

At some point I just shut my eyes and tried to block it all out. Their talk of District 1 just made me think of Sun laying dead in his own blood, butt-stabbed to death, and of Rupee, eaten alive by that awful baby.

Then they began to talk about what they liked most about this year's Games. Of all things to favour it was the kills. They began to compare their favourite 'eliminations'.

I don't know how I didn't lose it when the second of the team called Solar's death 'tragically beautiful' or whatever he'd worded it as.

Perhaps that kind of strength just comes with being a victor. Maybe I'm just numb.

Whatever the case, I survived prep work and then found myself shuffled, clad only in a featureless gown, into the same room where I'd been before the parade.

Epona is already waiting for me. Finally, a face that's both friendly and caring.

"Please don't tell me they prep previous victors up like that."

"OK, then I won't."

"...So they do?"

"Not at all. Just try to look nice if you can," Epona suggests. "The only victor allowed to look dirty is Seven's last victor. What do they call him these days? Stick of the Dump?"

The image of a copper haired sixteen year old who, four years ago, spent three weeks hiding in a junkyard of cockroaches and, half-mad, crushed a career under a car by severing a crane hook with a bladed boomerang appears in my mind. Yes, being dirty suits the image of Stick Death.

People love to say he was 'the Death who could not die'.

I wonder what my own image will be… but decide I'm happier not asking about it. I'll just put on whatever Epona's made for me and smile, because if it's anything like what she's made for me so far then I truly have nothing to complain nor worry about.

"Anyway, I came up with this after you survived the sandstorm in the early days. Maybe it was a bit more luck than skill, but that in itself just made inspiration flow all the more. Tell me what you think, be honest with me."

She presses a button and the wall opens. The holders that once contained my parade outfit now hold something entirely different.

It's a ballroom dress with a constantly changing texture. I have no idea how the effect is being achieved, but it's like watching a sandstorm of the same black sand from the arena play out upon the fabric before my eyes. It's eye-catching, but that's… not quite what holds my attention the most.

Perfectly arranged along the arms and at the very centre of the dress' chest are emeralds. That in itself is fine, but… they're all cut to look exactly like four leaf clovers.

Lucky clovers.

Nrrrggghhhhh!

…

After so many messed up events and admittedly lucky happenings, I can't help but laugh. I probably sound half mad, but Epona doesn't seem to mind.

"It's perfect," I tell her.

She smiles, like she just got the greatest news in the world.

It is perfect too. It perfectly sums up my time in the arena.

A black sand desert and stupid amounts of luck.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

Even from below the stage the crowd is so loud that I might as well be standing amongst them already. It'll be a wonder if I won't need a return trip to the hospital to fix my ears after this.

All of 'my team' stand below the stage, all upon our own platforms that will rise above once Twinkle cues us on. Blossom stands on the platform closest to mine.

"Don't overthink," she suggests to me. "The people here… they don't tend to think about much. Fake it one last time and then you'll be free to live your life and be who you are."

"One last fake… I can do that," I say. "Blossom?"

"Yes?"

"...Thanks for everything. Thanks for the sponsors. They all helped. They're why I'm here."

"It was my pleasure, one cult girl to another," Blossom says. She shyly - of all things, shyly! - twirls one of her red locks around her finger and bites her lip, just for a moment. "It wasn't just me though. It was the whole team. And…"

"...Yeah?"

"It was your family as well."

"...My parents?"

"No. Actually, I don't know what's happening with them, or anything, back in Nine," Blossom says, apologetic. "Actually, it was the Weisz's. They really came through with a lot of money. By no means your only sponsors, but your best ones."

"...They did all that… and they never met me…?" I barely speak above a whisper. I've never met them, and they've done more than my parents did.

For all their faults, they care. They wanted me to stay alive. Thanks to them, I did exactly that.

"Will I get to see them?"

"After the interview once we're at the presidential party," Blossom assures me. "But before then…"

That's when it begins. First the prep team rise above to much applause and then so does Epona to even more. Periwinkle follows her and Blossom is after him.

"We'll be in the front row. If you get stuck, just look at us," she tells me. "We rooted for you in that desert, we're still rooting for you now."

She's up above, earning the grandest applause yet. Then all goes deathly quiet as I begin my ascent to the stage.

It's like being back in the tribute tube.

But this time there's no fight for supplies awaiting me, nor any lockers to hide in. It's one stage, one host, one interview and a hoard of screaming Hunger Games fans.

My fans. Them and everybody across the nation listening to me, the first victor from District Nine in over thirty years. The liar. The medium. The girl who doesn't know who she is.

Well, I know one part of who she is.

She's a girl who won't let them see if they get to her.

I rise into blinding lights and truckloads of confetti blasted from cannons. The screams are somehow more tolerable yet worse than the ones in the arena. For one moment I fear the sheer force of the roaring crowd will knock me over.

But I bear it. I look out at the hoard and hold the gaze of every last one of them. I give them a little wave, and that's all they'll be getting from me tonight.

Twinkle will be getting the rest and already she's made her way over to lift my arm, my fist, skyward. After cheering along with the crowd and egging them on all the more she leads me over to the chair opposite her own.

It's strange, really, just how fast the screaming crowd zips it as soon as I'm in the chair.

Twinkle welcomes me, all smiles as she always is. If she's at all bothered by how I conned her in my first interview then she doesn't show any of it now. Maybe she doesn't remember it? All I know is that she's so joyous, borderline overzealous, in how happy she is to see me.

If I didn't know that Games staff are not allowed to bet, I would've thought she had made a fortune off of betting on me.

"Beth! The not-Medium! The realist keeping it very real! The realist with unreal luck!"

I really hope that last one doesn't stick.

"I think I speak for all of us when I say we're all glad to have you back here with us! There were times where I was worried you were done for in that desert!"

"Honestly, Twinkle? There were times where I thought the same. Maybe luck is real?" I say, making a face at the mere idea.

The audience laugh, loving it. We go back and forth like this for a few minutes, during which it becomes clear to me just why they're so glad that I made it back. Twinkle keeps casually bringing up how I have Capitol family. I mean, of course she would, it played such a role in my first interview… but it seems it's more than that.

They're not glad I'm here because I'm me. They're glad I survived because I'm basically Capitol myself, only born outside of it due to shady family dealings and a love story gone wrong.

They think my life matters so much more because I wasn't district born per-say. I won't ever say my life doesn't matter because it does, but… how can they not realise how wrong this is?

How are they this sick in the head, and so blissfully unaware of it all? Would I have been just like that if I was born and raised here?

I don't like that train of thought.

I keep myself from showing any of this, falling into the usual routine of just being whoever the other person wants me to be. Just one more time, I tell myself, once more and never again.

"I bet you're glad to have a comfy chair to sit in again, right?" Twinkle asks.

"You are so right," I tell her. "You can't beat velvet cushions."

"Yeah, exactly! They're so comfortable!" Twinkle exclaims. "And you're gonna want to be nice and comfortable for this! Dim the lights and clear your minds, Panem, it's time for the feature length movie, the ultimate cut, the recap among recaps - the story of the One Hundred and Twenty Sixth Hunger Games!"

The lights dim, the massive flatscreen at the back of the stage turns on and the show begins. The three hour cut of what I went through in that damn desert.

Never again will I study the dead and pretend to be them. Never again will I play a role in making someone think the dead aren't gone. But, sitting here alive while the rest of the tributes are all dead in caskets, there is one thing I can do - remember them. My life was saved by their deaths, and even if I didn't kill all of them directly, or at all, their deaths remain why I'm here.

I won't forget even one of them, no matter what they did.

The show begins with the reapings and shots of the pre-Games. Little snapshots of training and the interviews before we even saw the arena. As the victor, it could be said that I'm the main character. So, I get the most screentime. Those who I spent more time with get more screentime. Those I was barely near get next to none.

They show me exposing the scam at the interview.

They show Falcon's rage as he attacks me in the training centre right afterwards. They… they saw that? Well, why should I be surprised? They also show him exposing my entire alliance on the ride over to the arena.

I wonder how many would've survived the bloodbath if not for my interview. Then the bloodbath itself is shown in full, as are all of the deaths.

Weed, his neck broken by Sun in the first few seconds. Axel, his head smashed like a watermelon from Macey's spiked mace, the career stealing Rupee's kill. Burnice, her chest skewered by Clamantha's trident after she got in the way of the fisher girl's attempt to kill Toyota. Cropper, slashed over and over by Sturm's sword. Toyota, escaping Clamantha only to end up speared in her guts by Rupee. Dandelion, battered horrifically by Macey, spared only to extend her suffering until Sun impales her with a sword. Winnow, slamming Rupee down to the ground only for Clamantha to tackle her and, after some rolling about, stabbing her in her heart. Then Macey, last to fall of the bloodbath, dead with an axe to her neck and Button's boot crushing right through her throat.

Tributes scatter into the desert. The careers go hunting. They return to find their supplies pilfered and in their rage don't even bother to rest, heading back out to find someone to take their rage out on. That person is Pleat, beaten bloody by all of them and with Sun landing the killing blow.

The Games keep going. The sandstorm causes havoc across the arena. Cookie is separated from her alliance while Steam, just as Theory said, is thrown over the canyons and falls to his death. Sturm is split from the careers but hardly cares. He takes Cookie as a prisoner, forcing her to build his deadly weapon.

Everyone regroups and keeps surviving as the weather settles. Settler, killed by Solar for the sake of saving me from her and Stetson's clutches.

Cookie finishes building Sturm's weapon. He doesn't let her move a muscle before he breaks her neck and sets off to find prey. He finds us and causes such havoc. He tears Rotor to shreds.

I clench my eyes shut. That one hurt to watch then and it hurts to watch it now. Rotor…

Sturm' triumph doesn't last. He dies upon his own weapon, torn apart like a roach in a blender.

Of course, they show all of Solar and I solving the puzzles beneath the temple. They show every last Games damned moment of the baby chasing after us. They show the entirety of Rupee being eaten by it, every second of her despair.

They show me having a breakdown and Solar holding me.

The headcount dwindles. The footage keeps going. Stetson breaks Solar's arm and flees in agony thanks to me. He doesn't last long, left flat on his back to suffer the acid rain. He's half-melted by the time he finally dies.

The feast brings all of us back together, desperate for relief from the acid… except Seafoam who goes on a rampage. Sun, stabbed a dozen times in the rear with the trident. Button, that same trident buried into his back. Theory, suffering a horrible throat slitting. Seafoam just laughs about what he did to them.

The endgame draws near, as does the moment I've dreaded seeing above all else. The entire fight against Clamantha is shown, as is Solar's death. They play it up as such a sad thing, such a tragedy, such a waste that didn't need to happen then. Well, why not stop the Games then?

"I did it Solar," I whisper.

By the time the final battle is reached I'm exhausted and numb, onscreen and in the present. Seafoam gets little coverage, more of a prop stuck on the cacti than anything else, while my showdown with Falcon is treated as such a spectacle. They show all the hurt words, all the blood, all the contempt we had for each other.

To think he volunteered to save me, only to be my greatest enemy. But despite what he did and the person he ended up becoming, I can only feel my heart breaking when he, like Rupee before him, is eaten by the baby.

The movie ends with the baby leaving into the darkness and a lingering shot of the closet I was hiding in.

Then the lights turn back on and the thunderous applause begins. It drags out for over two solid minutes. At least it serves as a chance for me to get my bearings and keep my cool.

Seeing Blossom down in the front row, giving me a tender smile… it helps. So much.

Enough that when Twinkle starts asking me questions I feel reasonably ready for them.

"So, the first victor of District Nine in nearly thirty years! Whoa!" Twinkle kicks things off with excitement and shows no signs of things going any other way. "You truly kept tradition alive; can we expect the next volunteer from District Nine to be a victor as well?"

"I believe we can. Truly, the other districts should be glad that we don't have a volunteer sent in every year," I say.

"So your victor drought could've ended sooner if more girls decided to volunteer?"

"Well, where'd the fun be in that? We're a nice district, we want to give everybody a fair chance."

The crowd laughs and Twinkle is spluttering, half-hysterical. I just smile along with them; I wonder if they realise that, joking as I am, the Games are not fair. They have seen just how strong the tributes from Districts 1, 2 and 4 are, right?

Then again, it's not as if the tributes from those districts survived. Their training failed them.

"Well, we're glad that you keep things fair," Twinkle says once she calms down.

It continues like this for quite some time. Questions about things that happened within the arena and my opinions on my 'competition'. It's hard to tell if she's just doing her job of covering all the ground asked of her or if she's really enjoying getting under my skin.

I don't give her the privilege of seeing any real emotion either way.

But after questions about the bloodbath, about what it was like to traverse the desert, about how I found the puzzles under the tomb, my fear of the baby mutt and of so, so, so much more, she finally turns the topic around to what some naive part of me hoped she wouldn't.

The deaths of my alliance. Solar, Rotor… even those who I was unable to know for long like Axel and Pleat, she focuses on all of them.

"Such a shame that Falcon had to rat all of you out like that. If he hadn't done that then odds are the lot of you could've all gotten quite far, instead of just yourself and Solar making it past the final eight," Twinkle says.

"I guess some tributes just can't handle the idea of there being a big, powerful alliance," I tell her. "Bit hypocritical when you consider districts 1, 2 and 4 have one every year. Who're they to be the judge?"

"And the jury and especially the executioner!" Twinkle giggles. "But then, if Falcon hadn't done that, events may not have lined up for you to be with us tonight. We'd have lost our keeping it real realist, our Capitol darling! Perhaps things happened the way they did for a reason."

"I'm not sure things happen for 'reasons'. I think things just happen, and it's up to us to find meaning in it," I say. "I'm just glad that Solar and Rotor made it as far with me as they did. I wouldn't be here now without them."

"Are you sure? It was hard, no doubt, but a Capitol girl… do you truly need district allies, even when you're against big babies and chainsaw blades?"

"Yes. I do. I did."

I see my face on the screens set up around the massive studio. Tired and hardly triumphant, but still composed despite it all. At the thought of my dead friends a tear trickles down my cheek, unable to be contained.

"Rotor got me out of the way of Sturm's onslaught. Solar… she was my rock. She got me through so much."

"And you got her through a lot as well," Twinkle adds.

She seems quite determined to undervalue the contributions of what district people can do. It's rather a bit pathetic of her, actually. Not that I can tell her that.

I guess all I can do is prove that she's wrong to do that. Provably incorrect.

"She faked a broken arm and fooled us all, and used that to get us away from Rupee. She took out half the Tens and freed me when they had me as their prisoner. She was the one who led us to Theory and had him join us. She did so very much. Rotor did as well. Theory did. They all played a really important part in why I'm with you tonight," I tell her. "We were partners. It just worked, working together as we did."

"Just like how the districts work with the Capitol guiding them to make our country as great as it can be!" Twinkle exclaims.

Hopeless, that's what she is. Either blind as a bat to the world she's in, or she's just that determined to make me appear so much better than everyone else for such an arbitrary reason.

I only give her short answers after that. If she wants to undervalue Solar, Rotor and all those who helped me along the way, I'll undervalue the interview a little. Fair is fair.

By the time the interview ends it's to my satisfaction that she's slightly clenching her jaw, just a little bit frustrated. A win in its own right.

At last she rises and has me do the same. I'm grandly announced as the victor once more to the crazy, screaming crowd.

But it's all distant. Distant compared to my memories of my friends.

Distant to how Blossom, clearly aware of how I was discreetly bugging Twinkle, gives me a proud smile.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

I expected the party to be a grand affair and the biggest event of the nation. I expected screaming crowds, huge buffets, obnoxious music and fans flocking me.

It's all that and much, much more.

In the first half hour I was approached hundreds of times and it took the combined efforts of Blossom, Epona and Periwinkle to ensure nobody ended up stampeding over me or tried to clip a lock of my hair.

If this is a party for 'anyone who is anyone', then I don't want to know anyone here.

Parties of worthless excess were thrown at Village, but this… this is something else altogether. It's even more extravagant than the rest of the Capitol.

It's two hours before the hoard finally stops flocking me and I have a chance to relax on a table off to the side. I'd love to remain here and just sit all night long, or better yet just leave and go to bed, but the odds of that happening… hmmm, they're certainly not in my favour.

It's strange in its own way, seeing previous Hunger Games victors milling around and either enjoying the party or just attempting to enjoy it. Some were vicious, some were terrified, some were lucky and some were even good people.

All except one of them killed a person. The only one with no blood on their hands is Fizzle from District 5, twelve years ago. Not even one kill… though she was chased constantly, to the point the last tribute chased her through a burning barn and got themselves trapped. Fizzle was no killer, but as she'd told the girl from District 1 in the burning barn at the end of the Games, not killing her didn't mean she also had to save her.

For a while Blossom and Epona sit with me, helping me process it all and stay as stable as can be expected, but in time even they move on for a little while. They share a nice slowdance on the multicoloured dance floor, while Periwinkle has a drink-off against some other escorts.

At least they're having fun. Maybe I will sometime as well.

Several people approach the table and invite themselves to sit down with me. Whatever I was going to say never makes it past my lips. Not when I see who's sat down with me.

My family. The Weisz's. All dolled up like actual dolls, all here to impress. All here to see me. My Grandma, Presilla. My Aunts, Eunice and Umbra. There's even a girl not much older than myself who sits closest to Eunice. She must be one of my cousins.

Prescilla introduces herself and the rest of those sitting with her. My cousin, Tutti, excitedly shakes my hand, oh so happy to meet me at last.

"We've wanted to meet you for so long, Lisbeth," Grandma says. "Ever since the moment we knew you were one of our own, we've wanted you with us."

"The arena is no place for a Weisz," Aunt Eunice adds. "Not at all."

"We're so glad you're safe. We sponsored what we could, but we feared it might not have been enough," Grandma continues. "We thought that horrible boy might've won, perish the very thought."

"Falcon was a lot of things, " I concede. "But he was a victim too. If my parents hadn't started the entire cult in the first place… it wouldn't have been this way."

"For them to do such a thing," Grandma shakes her head. "We clearly made the right choice having them thrown out. Of course, if we'd had any idea that you were on the way we never would've done it."

"We'd have waited until you were born," Aunt Eunice agrees.

They leave it at that, wanting to get to know me instead, and wanting for me to get to know them. I tell them about what I do know about myself, the things that I like and what life was like growing up in District 9. It doesn't take long for them to not wish to hear anymore of what my parents did, and honestly… that's fine. I don't want to talk much further on it either.

They spend time telling me about themselves. Tutti intends to become a prep team worker for the Games. With me being a victor now, she intends to become one for District 9, hoping for us to bond all the more on the job. It's flattering.

They spend time talking about the family business and how they make their living disproving of all manner of silly supernatural things. They spend a lot of time doing so. Shows they've run, debates they've won, the times they've humiliated the Crowley's and the wealth it's gave them, the life it's become for them.

It's a life they want me to be part of.

"You were supposed to have been born here," Grandma says. "It's our fault you never had that birthright. You were supposed to be part of our legacy. It's our fault you've not got one credit to your name yet."

"Actually, Lisbeth does," Aunt Umbra says, smiling proudly. "She's a victor. I think that's worth at least ten credits."

"Oh, of course, of course," Grandma agrees. "So, tomorrow at the train station we'll be there to see you off, of course… but you don't have to leave. You could just stay here with us and forget all about District Nine."

"You can join us on our shows right away," Aunt Eunice suggests. "That'll be much better."

"With a victor joining the ranks, we'll have more viewers than ever before. Just imagine, your own segment watched by everyone across the Capitol and the nation at large. You, our latest host, our realist, the image of what it means to stick it to the Crowley's," Grandma says, unable to help laughing at the thought.

…That's what this is all about. That's why they sponsored me so much and helped me make it out. It wasn't because I'm family. Not exactly. I'm sure Tutti at least seems to care about me, I've known her barely an hour and already it's clear she cannot lie. No, at large they want me because I'm a victor and I'd bring them more money, more status, more of what they want.

Instead of lying to people, I'd be telling them the truth… but I'd still be made to perform. Still have to do what other people want. Step out of one character and into the role of another.

That's not what I want either!

I don't get to ask any questions or give any sort of an answer. Apparently they have plenty more people they have to see and interviews to give. All this and much more, like celebrating once again getting one over the Crowley family.

They leave, telling me they'll be seeing me tomorrow and look forward to hearing my decision. They say that I'll know when I can make it. It'll be impossible to miss, they say.

Tutti, the last to go, takes a quick selfie with me and tells me how wonderful it is to meet me at last. Her siblings and cousins don't get her, she explains, and she's glad to have a cousin who will.

…She's alright. But staying in this city and swapping for a mirror of where I started, just for her sake? I can't do that either.

But do I even have a choice here? I might technically count as Capitol rather than pure district, but will that matter when they still outrank me for having outright been born and raised here?

I fret over this for a while. Suddenly even my glass of water looks inedible. I need air. I need my own space. Now.

I leave the main party behind to wander through different corridors at random. I trust my random choices of going left or right. Random wandering never got me killed in the arena. Why would it do me any wrong here either?

Eventually I make it to what might be the back of the manor. Out a grand crystal door I go and out I step onto a balcony covered in roses of every colour of the rainbow.

I'm not alone out here. A young Indigenous girl leans upon the railings, gazing out at the city's numerous lights. She turns at the sound of my steps.

Raven hair midway down to her back, an expression of such firmness that struggles to soften, a height that doesn't quite pass five feet… and the blood of eight lives staining her hands.

Who could forget the face of the girl who was in the same spot a year ago that I'm in now. Who could forget Sock, youngest victor and, of all Games to win, the victor of the fifth quarter quell.

"Feel like brooding alone?" she asks.

"...That does sound nice," I say.

"Well, I'm not done brooding yet, so we're gonna have to share the balcony or you're gonna have to find another one," Sock says.

"That's fine."

We both stand at the railing, leaning upon them and just… staring out at the lights. Now that I'm looking at them, there's no missing the prevalence of the number 9, or how holographic versions of myself are brought to life by glowing panels on the ground.

They don't quite get my nose to look right.

"How'd you even get away from the party back there?" Sock eventually asks.

"Same way I imagine you did. I just walked off; I'd already spoken to more people than I cared to count. I guess it was enough for them to not try and stop me."

"Not like you can leave," Sock says. "I tried last year and I… couldn't. Like, I couldn't, there was something blocking the door."

"Bars?"

"No, some sorta force. I think they left my tracker in me and used it to keep me indoors until the guests were satisfied."

I lightly rub where the nurse injected my tracker weeks ago. Could it still be in there, or was something else keeping Sock from leaving? I don't intend to linger on such thoughts, but I'm not sure what else to say.

How do you talk to a girl four years your junior who killed more than double the people you did?

"Thanks for allying with Pleat," Sock says, looking back out at the lights. "I did my best for her. I really did. …At least she wasn't alone, going into the Games."

"We were more allies because of Solar, but… you're welcome. She was alright company. She was an alright girl… so, you went into the arena alone?"

"Nobody wanted to be allies with the rich little Princess," Sock narrows her eyes as she speaks. It's that 'warrior face' that became her image. "Too young for the older tributes. Too rich and spoiled for the younger tributes. Even Tune kept his distance."

"...Their loss. You proved them all wrong."

"I guess so."

More silence. We don't really talk after that, we're too lost in our own heads. But eventually I must be showing more emotion than I realised because Sock asks what's bugging me.

"Old Cecelia says most victors aren't really happy at these parties, especially their first one. I know I wasn't. What's ruined it for you?"

Should I even say a word to her? Well, thirteen or not, she's a victor like me and one who got into way more bloody fights than I did. Assuming that she's too young to get it is rude.

"Well, I have Capitol family. They came to see me. They really wanted to get to know me. They're a big part of why I got such great sponsors and why I'm here."

"You were getting so much money. I saw it on Blossom's screen," Sock says, nodding. "Even my parents have never had money like that."

"Well, for all the money they spent on me, it wasn't because of love or desperation to keep me safe because they wanted me. Well, they want me… but only for what I can give them. Apparently having a victor on their shows would bring in a lot of money."

"That sounds really lame and rude of them."

"Mmmm, yes, it certainly does. They want me to stay in the Capitol with them."

"Can you?"

"They seem to think so. Nobody ran over to tell them otherwise."

"Well, you gonna be staying here?" Sock pauses, frowning. "Should I be worried that next year your can just buy one of your tribute's the crown?"

"...I'd rather not stay. I don't belong here. At least in Nine I might find a way to belong. At least I'd have the wheat fields. But I don't know if I'd be able to refuse them."

"Sure you can, you're a victor aren't you?"

"But they're Capitol."

"You're Capitol and a victor, you're basically better than them. You can decide who lives with you, and who you live with."

"...You're sure about that?"

Sock goes quiet. The warrior face is gone. For one moment she looks like the kid she is, then looks about a decade older. Older, and so tired.

"I wanted all my family in the victors' village with me. Grandma didn't come with us. I butchered eight people with that stupid big axe. After that… she didn't love me anymore. She was afraid of me. My cousins weren't quite as afraid… they were more worried that I might hurt someone else and tried to hold me under in the pool. I said I didn't want them to live with me after that, so they don't anymore. All I had to do was say it."

She says it so calmly, so detached. But she doesn't dwell on it, just giving me a nod.

"So, you can say it too. It's your choice," Sock says. "Sometimes us victors are allowed to make them."

"...I've wanted to make my own choices for so long. Maybe it's time I did," I decide.

We don't speak a word after that and part ways in silence once our escorts eventually track us down. But, as we're led back to the party, I feel like I just made a good acquaintance. One I wouldn't mind seeing again.

Surely I will, both on the victory tour and mentoring year after year after year.

We've only got the rest of our lives.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

The day has passed by so slowly and so quickly. It's been all kinds of a blur. Being woken up and giving another prepping up.

Meeting plenty more officials and people of note as I'm given what they call one grand last day in the Capitol.

Took hundreds more pictures than I really wanted with my fanbase.

Crowned as the victor atop the balcony where the parade ended for all the nation to see and what sounded like the entire Capitol to applaud and scream over. Even President Light seemed pleased when he set the crown atop my head.

"Well done," was all he'd told me. "It would be a shame to have lost Capitol blood."

The journey to the train station felt like it took forever and a day, but arrive we finally have. A massive crowd watches on to see me off as I board the train and head home.

For once, they're silent. So, without any sort of interruptions or unwanted screaming, I'm able to say a proper goodbye for now to Epona and Periwinkle. They're both sad to see me go - and of course Epona is especially sad that Blossom must take her leave - but look forward to catching up with me on the tour.

Already Epona promises to make me a wonderful outfit for each stop, while Periwinkle assures me that he'll fight like all fire to make sure my trip around the nation is to be remembered for all of the right reasons.

Blossoms stands by the train door, ready for me to board alongside her. Though shy around the massive crowd, she's nothing but confident and serene as she watches me. Just the sight of me being alive has brightened up her day, her week, her month… probably until the next reaping.

The call goes out for me to board the train, but I'm only a few steps towards it when someone calls out to me. Several someones.

It's Grandma and the rest of the Weisz family. A man who I assume is my Grandpa, several Uncles, a few more cousins. My family.

"Hold on there Lisbeth!" Grandma calls out.

She and the rest of the Weisz's step out from the crowd. The peacekeepers present eye them carefully, but make no move to stop them. Perhaps blood relations permit them a little extra freedom around me?

As they move forth as one, I notice another group eyeing both the Weisz's and myself with such scorn. The Crowley's. My family.

As if I wasn't already under enough pressure…

"Do you really want to get on that train? Do you really want to head back to District Nine? You don't belong out in those fields and amidst all that silly flour," Grandma says.

"You're a Weisz," Aunt Umbra says.

"You're one of us. You belong here in the Capitol," Aunt Eunice adds.

"It'd be so much fun! We'll make so many happy memories, every single day!" Tutti exclaims.

Grandma holds up papers. The really official kind, so much so that the capitol seal and approval stamps on them glow from over here.

"From our President himself. Just sign here and you can remain in the Capitol," Grandma says. "It'll be tight timing, but we should be able to start you on your first show segment by tomorrow and have it ready to go live in just three days."

"I'll help you work out how to conduct yourself on camera," Aunt Eunice says.

So on it goes, the Weisz's talking over each other. I turn back to the train. Blossom stands, silently observing everything.

I'm too well tuned to the thoughts and feelings of others to miss the fear in her eyes, of how hurt she would be to have saved a tribute only for that tribute to decide to be better off living apart from her in the Capitol.

"Oh, Blossom will be fine," Grandma says, noticing where I was looking. "She's lovely, I'm sure, but she's done her job. She mentored you. But we know how things are done in the Capitol. We'll take things from here."

She gently shakes the papers and holds up a pen.

"Come on Lisbeth. You know where you really belong."

The Weisz's all look at me, expectant and smiling just a bit too wide. I look at them, and then back towards Blossom. She's afraid. She looks as young as me for a moment, lost and alone.

It's my choice.

Here I stand, halfway between Blossom and the Weisz's with the whole nation watching on, waiting for my next words.

If I stay here, then I have my family. The consequences back home - because surely there will be some waiting for me - will never touch me. I'll be shielded from it all. Catered to. I'd want for nothing… nothing except freedom to be me. But, there'd be no more lying or medium acts. I'd actively do the opposite.

If I go back to District 9, then I have to face the consequences. I'll have to face Falcon's family, and all of the other families. I'll have to face my parents. So much would be unknown and uncertain. Is it truly a place I really belong, even now? But, I would be free to make my own choices and find out what my future might be. I'd have Blossom as my neighbour.

For all the breath holding everyone is doing… this isn't a hard choice at all.

"Thank you," I tell the Weisz's as a whole. "...But I belong in District Nine. I belong with my mentor, and the wheat fields."

They all splutter, already becoming indignant and angry. Tutti alone just appears confused, and not a little hurt.

"But you don't have a future in that silly district!" Grandma snaps. "You don't know what you're going back to! You won't even know what will happen next week!"

"...I wouldn't want the surprise to be spoiled," I say.

"You can't do this, you're a Weisz!" Grandma snaps.

"You're part of our business!" Aunt Eunice yells.

"Actually, I'm a victor," I tell them. "And you know what else I am?"

I turn to Blossom. She smiles, as warm as her hair and proud as you please.

"I'm Beth, and I'll only find out what that means back in my district."

That's when laughter bursts out from the crowd. The Crowley's laugh and laugh some more. Gone are their scowls, replaced by grins that are outright euphoric. The way I sort of snubbed the Weisz's has them close to falling over from laughter alone.

The Weisz's take offence and, with cries of anger, charge them. Just like that a public fight has broken out. A fight I don't intend to see the outcome of.

"See you at the tour?" I manage to say.

I make my way to the train and Blossom. Before I can take my first step on board someone grabs me from behind.

There's no force or unkindness to the grab. Just a hug, if perhaps an overzealous one. Tutti releases me after a moment or two.

"See you at the tour!" she exclaims. "Have fun doing Nine stuff!"

"...I'll try," I tell her. "Thank you Tutti."

Just as a cry of 'MY LEG' echoes across the train station I finally make it into the train. The doors close behind me and we begin pulling out of the station right away.

Blossom stands beside me as we watch the crowd gradually get further and further away. Once we're in the tunnel she turns to me.

"Thank you," she says, smiling. "I… I thought, for one moment there…"

"That's even more unlikely that the supernatural being proven to exist," I assure her. "You stuck with me, Blossom. That means you're stuck with me."

"I think that's the best news I've had in years."

I can only hope that I have good news waiting for me as well. But I fear it will be quite the opposite. Indeed, I fear it might be terrible.

What's happened back home? What has happened to Village and my parents?

I could've avoided the consequences.

But I didn't.

Whoever Beth really is, I know what she isn't - a coward.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

A robotic sounding voice announces that we'll be pulling into District 9 in just five minutes.

I can't help pacing, my heart pounding, as I try to imagine what sort of welcome awaits me. So worried am I that I've even been crossing my fingers and hoping for the best.

Imagine if that girl before the reaping could see me now.

Blossom had assured me through yesterday and the morning so far that things will be OK. Even if they might not look OK, I will be fine because she'll be with me. This much I believe, but… just what awaits me? I hate not knowing.

But I dread finding out the answers.

The only certainty is that Falcon's family will never forgive me. He volunteered, but if not for the cult reaching the point it did, thanks to my own contributions, he'd never have done so. He'd never have turned so twisted. He'd never have been eaten by the baby.

There's a casket further down the train, but there's nothing inside of it. There was nothing left to recover after the baby crushed him in its gullet and swallowed him down.

"I'll be right next to you," Blossom says. "You won't be alone."

It occurs to me that, lacking a mentor from our district when she won the Games, Blossom would've made the journey back and her debut on the stage all alone. She had to shoulder it with nobody there to guide her.

"How did you handle it?"

"I looked for the smilers," she tells me. "If you look hard enough, there's always someone who is happy to see you."

Look for the smilers. Look for the smilers. It's all I can think to myself, over and over, as the train finally slows until it comes to a gentle stop within the District 9 train station.

When I emerge onto the platform, about the last thing I expected to hear was cheering. But that's what I hear. Lots of it. An overwhelming amount of it.

The young. The elderly. Everyone, they're all cheering. Certainly some are quieter and some settle for a polite applause or even just a neutral sort of look, but so many people are happy to see me. Happy that someone came back alive.

Whether or not it's me they're cheering for or just the extra food this will grant them, I'll take it. It's better than the worst I'd feared.

Then I see them.

The families. The students. The girls. The boys. All of them.

All the people from Village, all the people scammed by my parents.

All the people I lied to.

Of course they've chosen to stand there. Of course they've positioned themselves at the front of the crowd, right by the barriers.

The car that awaits me beyond the train station. I'll only reach it by moving past them. Avoiding them is impossible.

Blossom notices what's up barely a moment after I've seen all of them. She places a hand on my shoulder, brief and gentle.

"I'll be right here."

We make the walk, and I soak up the cheering while I still can. But it softens and fades the closer I get to everyone from Village.

As I come to a stop and face them, the cheering dies near-instantly. By now the whole district will know the truth. All in attendance surely want to see how this will go.

For some time there's nothing to be said. No words exchanged, only stares. There's looks of betrayal, looks of anger, looks of hurt, looks that don't know what they're feeling.

But there's no swearing. No insults. No attempts to vault over the barrier to attack me. Nobody demanding me to explain myself. Nobody saying I should've died. Nobody to say anything.

Amongst the group I catch sight of Sallan beside her parents. She gives me the briefest of nods. I return it, because what else can I do?

Well, I'll have to do something else. I can't just walk on and end it like this. There's nothing I can do or say, but something is better than nothing.

"I'm sorry," I tell them.

Many of them scowl or settle for a deep stare. Some seem to accept this, just about. Falcon's parents shudder and shake, barely holding themselves back.

"...You didn't start it," Mr. Rothschild eventually says. "You ended it… that's better than just letting it keep going."

"We won't take anymore action," Mrs. Rothschild says.

My heartbeat speeds up. Anymore action? So, my parents… I won't ask. Not in front of the crowd. But I can see in their eyes that they know what happened. They know what became of them. They know what fate they decided to not even attempt to give me.

"...Don't seek us out," Mr. Rothschild tells me. The rest all nod, mutter and frown their agreement. "Never come near us again. You're not welcome."

It's all I can do to hold his glare, his heartbroken, human glare and give him a nod.

"I hope you find peace," I tell him, all of them.

With dozens of glares upon me and the peacekeepers starting to look impatient, I keep on my way to the car. One step, two steps, three steps, four steps…

Just as I'm about to go inside a whistle catches my attention. To my left Rinnia is at the front of the barrier, having chosen to stand apart from all of the others from Village.

She's disappointed, but nonetheless softer than the rest.

"Thank you," she says.

"You're welcome," I tell her. "Enjoy your life."

"Enjoy yours."

That's what I'll try to do, I think as I get into the car with Blossom right behind me.

We pull away from the station in silence. We leave behind not just the crowd, with their cheering starting up all over again.

We also leave the past behind. Everyone from Village, I'll never see them again.

But, at least I have closure.

At least it's put to rest.

At least, if nothing else, I saved Rinnia and her parents won't lose another child. Not this year.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

We take the long route towards the victors' village.

The driver takes us past a different village first - Village.

Or what's left of it at least.

It's been reduced to smouldering ash. Nothing is left standing other than scorched, blackened support beams. It's barely a husk of what it once was.

There's no sign of my parents anywhere that I can see, not even as the car deliberately slows down to make sure I get a good look.

If they're here, then they're amongst the ash and smoke. It's better not to check any deeper, nor look any closer, than that.

They were barely parents. More like co-workers with authority over me.

But barely being parents still means they're parents.

I don't even realise I've started sobbing until Blossom is holding me close.

The car speeds up and away. The statement has been made, and I've heard it loud and clear.

'This would've been you if you hadn't cleaned up your own mess.' 'If the families hadn't done this we would've done it.' 'There's no alternate power but the Capitol, never forget it.'

I surely won't forget it.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

As day turns to golden sunset, Blossom remains with me to help me settle into the house right next door to her own.

I already had a fancy home back in what used to be Village, but this manor feels like it's on a wholly different level to all of that.

It's surely been years since this house - any of them aside Blossom's - have been lived in, but everything looks brand new. The polish is perfect and shiny. There's no dust upon any surfaces. It's perfectly maintained. The Capitol certainly knows how to build things to last.

Settling in was easy - I had nothing to bring with me. Blossom assures me that through my victor stipend and how easy it is to call up all manner of businesses and suppliers, I can get anything I want and have it here within a day. Furniture, clothing, any kind of luxury items or food I could imagine.

I know what I'll be doing first thing tomorrow. Returning home in the village uniform… no. The sooner I can have this thing thrown into the fire, the better.

Then again, after what I saw… what happened… I might be avoiding fire for a while. Blossom and I have that much in common with each other.

For now, we sit in the cosy living room. The TV is off and all is quiet. I relax, enjoying the peace. Though it's hard to enjoy it.

It's hard to relax.

It's hard.

I saved Rinnia, that much is a fact. But I got Falcon killed. I killed Clamantha and Sturm.

I lost all my friends. They all died terrible deaths.

I got my parents killed. How do I even start knowing how to feel about that? I… don't know.

Blossom hears me out on everything, letting me vent for what good it does. I'll admit, I do feel better after letting it out. Not OK, certainly not OK… but, better.

Maybe at some point I'll be OK.

"Thanks for everything," I eventually say to Blossom.

"It's my pleasure," she assures me. "You're my victor. It's my duty to help you after the Games end. Although… they don't end, do they?"

"I don't think they do," I agree. "...I don't want to dream about that baby."

We're silent for a time. At some point Blossom makes tea for us. We drink it nice and slow. The sun continues to set outside, golden and glorious.

Then, with no warning, Blossom reached into her pocket. A moment later she takes her hand out, her hand clenched around some sort of a device and her thumb having firmly pressed the button down.

"They won't be able to hear us. Not for a little while."

She looks me dead in the eyes. There's more than warmth and experience in her eyes - there's sheer determination.

"Beth, what if I asked you if you wanted the Games to end for real? Would you say yes?"

"I would," I don't hesitate to reply. "...Blossom?"

She smiles, wider still.

"The Capitol makes such strange rules and forces us all to obey. It demands such a sacrifice and so much tribute, and for what? Lies and spoiled promises in return. It obsesses over the Games, to the point very little else matters. The acting President is always looked upon for guidance, like a God, and nobody thinks for themselves. Doesn't that sound like a cult to you?

I think about it, and think about it some more… and I find myself agreeing. It does.

"I ended a cult when I was a girl. You just ended another cult. But what if we could go after the biggest, nastiest cult of them all? What if we, Epona and many victors all across the nation… what if all of us and District Thirteen could continue to gather strength, more by the day, and bring about a world without cults? Without the Games?"

Epona? She's in on this? District 13… it exists?

So many questions in my mind. So much we need to talk about. So much I don't know and find myself desperate to understand.

"...A world where no teenager has to die in an arena."

Theory… Rotor… Solar…

"Would you like such a world?"

"Yes."

"And would you perhaps like to help make it happen… if, and only if, you want to?"

"...I never did like cults. Blossom, I'd love that."

She smiles as she puts the device away.

We'll surely be continuing this talk sometime very soon.

But for now… there is tea. There is peace.

There's an idea flickering to life in my head and it just has to get out.

"Blossom?" I ask. "...Do you have any sky lanterns?"

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

It's the end of the day, in many more ways than just one. The golden glow is fading to a dying red, and nightfall won't be far behind it.

We stand within a luscious field of wheat just a mile from victors' village.

We're saying goodbye. But not to each other, oh no, nothing of the sort.

We're saying goodbye to those who died along the way. I've never once had any patience for ceremony, rituals or superstition, but… just this once, it felt right to do something to put this chapter of my life to rest.

It felt right to properly say goodbye to those who died in that desert.

"Ready Beth?" Blossom asks me.

"Ready," I tell her. "Let's let them free."

It's a tradition of District Nine, not that my parents ever cared for it when they had their own ideas and plans of exploitation, to let a lantern fly away into the sky when putting a loved one to their rest.

Apparently it would guide them across to the other side.

Well, I don't quite subscribe to any of that, but it seemed like a nice way to pay respect to my friends. To acknowledge the lives of those I didn't often cross paths with. To remember my foes and how they were only against me because of the Games.

One by one, we let the lanterns fly away nice and slow into the sunset. A lantern for Steam who sacrificed himself to ensure his family would survive the winter. A lantern for Winnow who spoke so highly of her three little sisters. A lantern for Seafoam, brainwashed by what the Capitol showed him on the TV. A lantern for Button who saved his brother's life.

Cookie, Dandelion, Axel, Pleat, Theory… one by one their lanterns fly away.

"...I'm sorry Falcon."

I let his lantern fly away.

"Goodbye Rotor. Thank you for being so brave."

I let his lantern fly away.

Just one left. I hold this one longer than the rest… what's the right thing to say?

"...I'll make you proud Solar. You will always be remembered," I hesitate just a little longer. "I love you."

The wind gently picks up as, at last, I release her lantern.

Blossom and I stand amidst the waist-high wheat, watching the twenty three lanterns fly away into that beautiful golden glow.

"So, Beth… what will you do now?" Blossom asks me.

"...I'm not sure, exactly," I say to her. "But it's my life, and it'll be what I make of it."

They say that when one door opens, another closes. Well, a door closed alright. The life I had, the people I knew, the duties I held, they're all gone. There's no going back.

For better or for worse, everything is different now. Jarringly so.

So much is uncertain and unknown, enough for it to be scary. Blossom dropped some major bombshells on me and I'm not so sure I understand any of it or just how deep that rabbit hole really goes.

But, knowing nothing about either that or what I will be doing from now on means I get to fill in the pieces myself. Filling in the pieces means I decide where my story goes next.

Maybe my story hasn't ended. Maybe it's finally able to truly begin. Maybe now I can begin to find out who I am, and enjoy every moment of working it all out.

Maybe this is where the next door opens.

---

THE END

---

And there we have it! Wasn't that a fun time... or, maybe traumatising and jarring? Hey, so long as ya'll felt something or other, I call it a job well done! It feels strange saying goodbye to Beth after hyperfocusing on writing her story for the past few weeks, but I suppose that fits her story - it wasn't about the ending, but about finding a beginning and whatever happens next is in her hands. She's earned the right to make her own choices. And Little Knight Mik / Renardine, I hope you enjoyed reading this! ^_^

Later skaters~!