Author's Note

I do not own the Hunger Games.

Maximillian Marcus Badondé, 18

As he had made it further through the trees, Maximillian had begun to realise where he was going. The cornucopia, the bloodbath location. The trees thinned out as he grew closer, until there were no more left ahead of him, only the bright, jewel green grass.

Maximillian froze at the treeline.

If he stepped out, he'd be far too exposed. Anyone would be able to see him as he approached the cornucopia. But if he stayed here, he'd gather no supplies.

He slunk along the edges of the treeline, trying to pick out any sign of movement. He couldn't see anything. But there was so much fog on the other side of the clearing. Another player could all too easily hide in that.

The sound of his heartbeat echoed in his ears. He scrambled up a large tree to his left and perched on a thick branch. Taking his bow, he nocked an arrow and waited.

He waited and waited as time continued to drag on. And still no one appeared.

During the normal Hunger Games, the Careers would take the cornucopia as their base of operations, and woe betide any that tried to cross them. Had no one thought to do the same in these Games?

Thoughtfully, Maximillian lowered his bow. Studying how this Game worked was too much of a need activity for it to be his thing, but if it was similar to a normal Hunger Games arena, then all the supplies not snatched up by a player should still be there.

He reached back to finger his arrows. The sponsor gift would serve him well, but he still needed food and water and other advantageous supplies.

He slunk back down the tree to the ground, listening for any sign of movement around him. Nothing that met his ears.

Carefully, Maximillian stepped from the treeline. His bow shook slightly in his hands. He should stay in the silence, stay where it was safe.

But he could only survive on 'playing it safe' for so long. Eventually something would happen that he couldn't stay safe from, he knew that much from watching the real Hunger Games.

With a deep breath, he began to jog across the field towards that great golden horn. There'd be things there he could use, and then–

Something in the grassland flashed a strange, bright colour. He didn't have time to spare it too much though, but did take an arrow from his quiver in case it was another player.

Heat rose up behind him, the air swelling with it. He ducked into the horn to ensure he'd be out of sight of any other players that might try to approach and then turned to get a look.

The grassland was on fire.

Vivaldi Perlman, 16

Phoenix wasn't crying.

Vivaldi wasn't sure why he was surprised.

Phoenix was thirteen, but she was stronger than him. He'd expected her to cry when the canon boomed, because that was almost certainly Luminescence's. What chance did he stand against that crazy girl?

But Phoenix wasn't crying. She was standing strong, her eyes blazing with determination.

He was being outdone by a thirteen year old girl. Pathetic.

"We should wait for Luminescence," Etheria said.

Phoenix shook her head. "He wouldn't want us to."

"But he spent all this time trying to get to you!"

"Which just proves he wouldn't want me to make some pathetic sacrifice trying to save him!" Phoenix drew in a sharp, trembling breath. "We have to go on without him." She looked at the two girls that had come out of nowhere. "Who are you and are you staying with us?"

"I– I'm Emeria," said the first girl, holding her hand out. "This is my… I guess we're allies now? This is Marcellina."

Phoenix took her hand, though Vivaldi could see her arm shaking. "Nice to meet you."

"I'm Vivaldi," he said, though it felt like a worthless attempt. Why hadn't he died instead of Luminescent? He could have taken the other boy's place and then Phoenix would still have her brother–

But then what had he done to deserve to die?

"I'm Etheria," said Etheria, holding her hand out for the other two girls.

Phoenix stepped back. "I'm Phoenix. Are you staying with us or not?"

"We were looking for our own allies," said Marcellina. Emeria, however, was staring at Phoenix. "Phoenix..?"

"Yes..?"

"Do you know them?" Vivaldi muttered.

"I don't think so."

"No but– That's the mythical bird, right? The one that's reborn in the flames?" Emeria asked, her voice rising with excitement.

Marcellina's eyes widened with what looked like realisation. "You're the firebird?"

"I… guess so? Why?"

"You're the one our alliance has been looking for," Emeria explained.

Vivaldi took Phoenix's arm and pulled her behind him. "What for?"

Emeria rubbed her head. "Would you believe it was because a crazy girl who tells fortunes told us you could save us all?"

Vivaldi stared at her. "I… wouldn't, no."

"Agreed." Phoenix folded her arms. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard." And yet her thoughts jumped to that moment of seeing her pod, the split second that everything had been real.

Emeria flinched. "Well, that's… awkward, because that's exactly what we we're doing."

"And then we got split up." Marcellina's frown turned into a grin. "Then we found you!"

"Yay," Phoenix said with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.

"So… can you?" Marcellina asked.

Vivaldi glanced at Phoenix, thinking again of that moment as she sat huddled in front of the mausoleum, whispering that she'd seen her pod.

"Don't be ridiculous," he muttered.

Phoenix stuck her chin up. "If I could, do you think we would still be here?"

And the girls didn't seem to have a response to that.

Andreas Amandiel, 18

He'd wanted to be patient, but in an arena like this, his usual strategy simply wasn't working. In the six in-Game days, they'd had little luck at finding other players and no luck at breaking up their alliances.

But ugh. Physical slaughter was so… uncouth. Oh, sure, the District savages did it, because they were raised to know no better.

He, however, was meant to be a man of culture. He operated from the shadows, not the light. This field of fog should have been perfect for him to use and create confusion.

And yet he'd succeeded in nothing.

"We're going to ally with the next players we find," he said to Marquis.

"What? I thought we were fine as a pair? I mean, I would have liked to keep Sequinn-"

Andreas rolled his eyes. "We're going to ally with them and get them to trust us. Then we kill them while they're exposed."

The safety of numbers combined with his survival instincts. He might even be able to get Marquis to do the dirty work for him.

Marquis shrugged. "Well, I guess it's better than all this mindless wandering we've been doing."

Andreas scowled. His strategy had always served him well in the past, he'd never had an issue – not until everything started crashing down. And the fog, if only they had been able to see something–

At least the meadow made it easier to see, though they still hadn't seen any other players through the trees.

In the distance, however, smoke was rising.

A lot of smoke.

Too much smoke.

Andreas frowned.

Marquis slowed down, looking up as the smoke plumed against the great arena forcefield above them. "What is that?"

"Part of the arena must be alight," Andreas replied.

Shouts went up from somewhere behind them. He reached for his bladed fans – fuck, what kind of an instinct was that for him to have it already? He wasn't a barbarian – and spun round.

It was a group of four, currently on the other side of the train tracks, all carrying large torches and weapons. The alliance they'd seen before.

"Are we gonna..?" Marquis asked, but must have known the answer from the look on his face. "But I thought…"

"There's too many," Andreas lied, the words coming to him as easy as breathing. Besides, had Marquis not realised these were District kids? He supposed this was what he got for deciding to ally with an idiot. He'd wanted someone that would follow him regardless of anything else. Stupid. Pliable.

"Come on." He ducked into the trees, fleeing into the woodland. He was bigger than many players, but there was still only one of him and four of them. Even with Marquis, there were twice as many in the other alliance.

The excited shouts and jeers followed them, crashing through the trees. Something came flying past his shoulder and embedded itself into the nearest tree. An axe.

Andreas had no interest in getting his hands dirty – but he wished now that he could do something more. He should be better than bolting like some pathetic District kid.

"I know you're District kids!" he shouted over his shoulder.

"Oh look! This one's got some smarts!" yelled one of the girls.

"I don't care how smart he is!" replied the other. Another axe came dangerously close to his head and thudded to the ground. Andreas considered again simply turning and fighting; surely as a well-fed Capitalite he should stand a chance against malnourished District brats?

But these kids didn't look ill-fed; his next glance at them told him they looked tall and strong, laughing among themselves as they charged after him. Andreas shot a look at Marquis. Having allies this time round was meant to help him go far by giving him someone to watch his back – but this would be helping him go far, wouldn't it?

Andreas ducked under the upcoming tree branch and, as Marquis moved to do the same, gracefully swung his leg out. The kick caught the other boy just under the knees, but already off-balance from ducking down, he staggered in surprise before crashing to the ground. Andreas pushed himself onwards, ignoring the now developing burn in his lungs and the stars flashing in his vision. He didn't dare – or care to – look back to see whether his trick had worked, he just needed to get away, to live. Twigs and leaves crunched underfoot, but there was something else too, a terrible stench permeating the woodland around him.

Behind him, Marquis started screaming, "Andreas! Where are you going? Help me!"

One of the girls laughed. "He's leaving you, you idiot."

Marquis's screams continued only a short time before a canon boomed.

He'd caused a boy's death.

But he was alive.

And that was more important.

He couldn't change anything if he was dead.

Ares Gilmore, 15

It felt like they were close to something now. His brother was dead, as was one of Iridescence's, but they could still save the others. This petty feud between them meant nothing where it came to their real life.

The strange girl continued to lead them into the fog, walking with bold, confident steps. It was as though she knew exactly where she was going.

Ares kept his new knife from the cornucopia in his free hand. Iridescence was leant against his shoulder because this new alliance didn't want to stop for her and she was too stubborn to ask them to stop. She was holding the torch, shining it into the fog ahead of them.

Something beeped, though it didn't sound like a sponsor gift. Their new allies did slow at that, looking around.

"Is that the phone thing again?" asked Iridescence.

"Oh, maybe."

Luminita glanced at them. "Wait, phone thing?"

"It was a sponsor gift," Iridescence muttered.

"And you didn't think to tell us?"

"We're not really sure how it works." Ares dug it from her bag. It beeped again, confirming it had been the thing making the noise.

"What's it doing now?" he muttered.

"As if I know any more than you?" Iridescence snatched it and turned it over, twisting the dials. That had shut it up before. Sure enough, the beeping stopped, but instead it began picking up voices again.

"Are you sure it's safe to is?" asked a girl. Not one she knew or recognised. Not Phoenix. "Remember the water?"

"Look, I'm done with– all this!" came the sharp response from another. "I'm done with being tired and hungry and in pain– and now we're both burned! What was the point in setting a third of the arena alight, hm? I'm done! If this fucking medicine kills me then it kills me."

"Oh… That's Hestia," whispered Ares.

Iridescence frowned. "Hestia?"

"Yeah, she's a vet like us. We've been in a few Games together. But she doesn't normally take allies."

Iridescence raised an eyebrow. "She doesn't take allies, or she doesn't make alliances with your siblings?"

Ares flinched. "Point."

They listened to the two girls bicker a little longer before she twisted the dial again, this time picking up another set of voices.

"We should go after the other one." A girl, with what sounded like a District accent. Interesting.

"He won't get far in this meadow now. And there's more in the graveyard," replied a boy.

"That must be that big alliance that we ran into!" exclaimed Luminita.

"Confirmed," said another voice. An adult voice. They all startled, exchanging looks. The new speaker continued, and slowly, Ares recognised it as the same woman that spoke during the bloodbath. "Return to the graveyard. We have a plan in place for the meadow, and I'd rather you four not be caught in it."

"I'm glad we got out," Iridescence whispered, and Ares muffled his laugh with one hand.

"We have also started experimenting with the contaminant. First attempts went badly, but we're trying two more."

"Copy that," said another girl.

"Let's get going before it gets dark then," said yet another, a second boy.

They listened a little longer, but little more was said beyond discussion about the arena and how they'd kill the players they found. Zephyr had gone very quiet and very, very pale. Celeste didn't seem to care.

"It's not far now," she said, pointing ahead into the fog.

Ares gestured at the communicator device. "You… mind if I hang onto this?"

"Probably for the best," Iridescence murmured as they continued their walk.

If they had something that could give them an edge, it would seem they needed it in this arena.

Author's Note

Marquis Terron, 18. Placed twenty second. Killed by Thorin's alliance.