TW: Cults (Second Intro). If you ever see untagged content that you believe should be marked with a TW, please reach out to me and I am happy add one.
◈
מילים
mi⬩lim
words
◈
Excerpts from the Diaries of Poe St. Helens
.✎.
First Diary
The first notebook is a simple black notebook, a little tattered, and with two or three pages torn out of the front; it was clearly purchased second-hand. A label has been placed on the front on which "Poe Saint Helens Diary" is written in big, scraggly letters.
.✎.
First Entry – January 19th, 122
Hello. My name is Poe. I was born exactly seven years ago.
Oh. That rhymes.
My father and mother gave me this diary for my birthday, so that I can record my thoughts. They feel bad that I cannot say what I am thinking, so they also thought this would be a good way for me to communicate.
The problem is not that I do not know words. It is that I cannot talk. I am deaf.
I have always been deaf. I do not remember a time when I could hear. My mother and father have tried to teach me to talk but it is hard to talk when you do not know what you are saying. I do know sign language but it is hard to speak to someone in sign language if they are not looking at you. It is equally hard to converse with someone in sign language if you are not looking at them. And I tend to look into space alot.
I do not know if I know what I want to say to a book. You cannot see the world I live in. But maybe you can see the world's inside of my head. Or maybe I can pretend you can.
I think alot. There is always so much going on in my head. And my hands do not move fast enough to say what I am thinking, and there are not a lot of people who speak sign language. Maybe it would be nice to have a book that knows all of my thoughts. Then, someone could find you after I die and know who I was and what I did and thought.
My father and mother tell me not to talk about death with my classmates. They do not want me to scare them, as we are no more than seven. But death is a natural thing. It happens too everyone. It happens alot here where we live. I just wish I could understand it.
Maybe I never will.
.✎.
Fourth Entry – February 2nd, 122
Today, my father and mother told me about the Red Virus.
(The words Red Virus have been written in red pen, encircled with a squiggly red line.)
The Red Virus exists in other areas of Panem, but it is especially prominent here in District Five. It is a strange virus because it has two different types: the Carrier Virus and the Victim Virus. It is also strange because showing symptoms makes it more likely that one will not die of the virus.
The Carrier Virus does not create the same symptoms as normal virus's. They do not get stuffy noses or coughs or sneezes. Instead, they get ANGRY. They stop being able to think clearly. Because the Red Virus implants in their brains. And they do things they regret. But they rarely die of the Virus.
My father explained that the Carrier Virus can only implant in those whose brains are ready to receive it. To survive, they must already be willing to do what the Virus demands. Its these people who are contagis, because they live long enough to pass the Red Virus on. And if they pass the Virus to someone who's brain rejects it, the Virus mutates and becomes the Victim Virus.
(The entry continues on the next page.)
The Victim Virus creates no symptoms. That is because it works fast. If you get sick with the Victim Virus, you will be dead within a week. Maybe even in just a few minute's.
I could say that I do not know why they told me this. But that would be a lie. One cannot live in District Five, or at least in our area of District Five, without thinking about death. It seems to be around every corner and in every alley. Perhaps they wanted to prepare me for something. Or perhaps they wanted to give me some sort of explanation, so that I might ask fewer questions.
Either way, I do not think I am satisfied. Only the simplest mysteries have one answer.
.✎.
Fifth Entry – February 6th, 122
A fire started today at the factory where my mother works. Father said that it was started by someone infected by the Carrier Virus.
Today, my mother died of the Victim Virus.
.✎.
Eighth Entry – February 20th, 122
I cannot figure out who I miss more: my mother, who is dead, or my father. I feel like I have barly seen my father since my mother died.
I do not understand why he has been avoiding me.
.✎.
Seventh Diary
The seventh notebook is little more than a haphazard collection of blank paper, bound together by string. "Poe's Diary Do Not Throw Out" is written on the front in thick black letters.
.✎.
Second Entry – December 4th, 124
Today, my father and I sat down for a family meeting. He apologized for not being as present as he had been before my mother passed. He explained that he and my mother had been saving up for some time so that I could attend the best school in Panem for children who are hearing impaired. He told me that has been taking extra shifts at the factory at which he works since she died so that I might still be able to go.
My father informed me that we will be moving to District Twelve, so that I can attend that school. He promised me that he will be able to be around more once we arrive there, and that I will be much safer in the Residential Sector of District Twelve than anywhere in District Five.
I noticed his eyes grow watery as he said that. When I asked why, he shared that it was always my mother's dream for me to be able to attend this school.
I asked when we would be moving. He told me that we leave on Sunday.
I suppose that is why we do not have much of anything in our house. It means we will not have much to pack.
.✎.
Fourth Entry – December 12th, 124
Tomorrow is my first day at my new school.
I took my placement exam today. It had two parts, one for English and one for Math. I do not know how I did on the Math part, but I am sure that I did well on English. After all, I write to communicate. I can sign but I prefer writing to signing. I find writing to be more natural, and I have for as long as I could write.
I am not nervous about going to school. I am a little nervous about starting at school in the middle of a school year. I did not have many friends in school in District Five, and I have read many books about how awkward it is to be new. So I do not think I will have a good time at my new school.
It is strange, how obligated you feel to do something once someone you love is dead. I feel like I should pretend to like it, because it is what my mother would have wanted. But If my parents were both alive, I do not know if I would even think of pretending to enjoy my time there.
Then again, if my mother were still alive, I might have started at this school when I was younger. My mother also worked, so she and my father would have been able to put aside more money to pay for my entrance examination. So perhaps I would not have been set up to fail.
Ah, well. This is the path that life has chosen for me. So I must at least pretend to enjoy myself as I walk to my doom.
.✎.
Fifth Entry – December 13th, 124
I was wrong about my new school. I do not have friends yet, but I can already tell that I am going to have a good time at school, just because of my teacher.
His name is Mr. Charrington. He said that I will be with him for English every year until I am out of Reaping Age because of how well I did on my placement exam. I am not sure how he knows that, given that nothing in life is a guarantee and for all I know he may be dead by then. Or I may be dead before then.
Today, Mr. Charrington was signing something to the class, most of whom are older than I. I could not follow because he was signing quicker than I am used to. So I started writing. At the end of class, Mr. Charrington asked to see my notes. Sheepishly, I showed him what I wrote, expecting him to be angry with me for not paying attention. But instead, his face lit up. He told me how much he liked what I wrote, and he asked me many questions about how I write. When I told him that I do not have a writing notebook, he promised that he would get me one tomorrow, and that we could work together on my writing.
He is the first person who is not related to me who has supported my writing. He does not have to pretend to like it. He genuinely likes it.
That's… kinda cool.
.✎.
Eighth Diary
The eighth notebook is a newer – and slightly bigger – version of the first. "Poe's Writing Notebook" is written on the front in big, slightly less scraggly letters.
.✎.
Nineteenth Entry – February 6th, 125
One day I saw a little bird,
Hopping along the way.
I wondered why it stayed on the ground
On such a gorgeous day.
If I could have talked to the bird
I would have asked it why.
Was it scared? Did it want a friend?
Could it even fly?
Some time had passed, and I returned,
To find the bird had grown.
And from the straw stuck to its back,
I knew that it had flown.
I told the bird how proud I was,
And it greeted me like a friend
How was I supposed to know,
Our time together would end?
For not a week had passed before
We suffered stormy weather
And when I went back to the path
All that was left was a feather.
.✎.
Sixteenth Diary
The sixteenth notebook is the same type as the eighth to the fifteenth. "Poe's Diary" is written on the front, and the number 16 is written on the inside of the cover.
.✎.
Sixth Entry – March 1st, 129
Mr. Charrington held me back after class today. He does that sometimes if he wants to see what I've been working on, so I was not worried. But I was intrigued when I saw that he held a brightly colored piece of paper in his hands. We do not have much paper in District Twelve that is not white.
Before I could even ask what it was, Mr. Charrington handed it to me. It turned out to be a brochure for a program that will be held here in District Twelve over the summer. Researchers at the Rosalyn Snow Research Center are interested in the use of art as a medium of communication. To create a baseline for their study, they are looking for a group of talented artists of all ages from all districts to study their creative processes in relation to their interactions with others. To make it worth the participants' while, the program will culminate in a showcase for Capitol elite.
Mr. Charrington was asked if any students here were skilled enough to represent District Twelve. He thinks I should go. He said that the school would cover any fees for me, and that all I would have to do is write a report when I come back. He also said that he would appreciate it if I showed him any writing I did while I was there, but that I did not have to.
I asked him if he thought it would be a problem that I am deaf. He replied that the new Capitol would certainly be accommodating of my needs, and that they even have questions on the application form asking about the needs of participants. Plus, he reminded me, I will have my notebook. Even if people do not know sign language, they should be able to read.
I admitted that I was nervous. It is scary to leave the only place that I have ever known. He understood. Mr. Charrington told me to take some time to think about it, and to let him know next week.
I have not talked to my father yet. I have no reason to think he would say no. He and my mother wanted me to go to this school so that I could do great things, and this is certainly a great thing. But the more that I think about it, the more I feel comfortable about the idea.
Chances like this only come up once in a lifetime. I would be foolish not to go.
.✎.
…
Seventh Entry – March 2nd, 129
I spoke to my father last night and told him about the art camp. He looked so proud of me, and said that of course I could go. I am going to tell Mr. Charrington later.
I suppose I have to put together a portfolio…
The Gospel of Ekayan Skada
.◐◯◑.
(35) And so it was that on the tenth night of the eleventh month, seventeen years after the formation of the Lunar Creed, our first Soul Marauder, Kashari Khan, was gathered to the heavens; (36) just as he was born under the new moon, so too did he pass under the new moon. (37) The disciples of Obscurum mourned their leader for thirty days and thirty nights, until a full cycle of the moon had passed. (38) Nobody would forget the great deeds of Kashari Khan, and the wisdom he brought to all of his followers and to all of the land.
(39) But the disciples of Obscurum cried for guidance, for someone to lead them down the proper path. (40) They called out to the Moon, and the Moon heeded their calls. That night, under its dim light, (41) a child was born who was destined to assume the Soul Marauder's mantle.
15 On the eleventh night of the eleventh month, seventeen years after the formation of the Lunar Creed, I, Ekayan Skada gathered the disciples of the Creed under the waxing crescent. (2) I called out and said to them, "Heed my words, disciples of Obscurum! Let your grief and despair transform into mirth and joy.
(3) The blackness of the new moon gives way to light;
even as it leaves, its radiance returns brighter.
(4) Tonight, a son was born to the Moon;
the Moon has granted a child to us.
(5) For my wife has given birth to a child this day, one who bears the spirit of our great teacher, Kashari Khan. (6) And this child shall be the brightest of his age, blessed by the Moon's rays to guide our Creed. (7) I call upon you to join me come the next full moon, where we shall baptize him, giving thanks to the Moon for Her great generosity." (8) And the disciples of the Creed cried out in great joy, and they gave thanks to the Moon for answering their call.
(9) That evening, I began the process of preparing the child for his baptism into the Creed. (10) For forty-five nights, I bathed him in oils: (11) cedarwood, so he should be brave, peppermint, so he should be determined, (12) and frankincense, so he should be at peace. (13) The windows of his room remained shut during the day, to block out the sun's harsh light, (14) and at night, they were flung open, to allow the Moon to gaze upon its emissary to the earth. (15) And each daybreak and each nightfall, I cleansed his room with sage, so that the sun's rays should not overpower the Moon's glow. (16) For forty-five nights, I vigilantly guarded my son, praying to the Moon for Her acceptance and grace, that I may guide the child as he grew to serve Her.
16 On the twenty-sixth night of the twelfth month, seventeen years after the formation of the Lunar Creed, I brought the child to the Quarry of the Devoted to baptize him into the sect.
(2) That evening, I dressed the child in silken white robes. I placed a wreath of primrose and moonflower upon his head, (3) and I draped a silver amulet around his neck. (4) As night fell, I carried him swiftly through the district towards the Quarry, (5) for if we arrived too late, we would miss the apex of the full moon, (6) the time of month when our prayers are best received by the celestial bodies.
(7) We entered the Quarry just as the moon rose over the horizon, greeted by the members of the Creed, all dressed in their ceremonial robes. (8) The boy's face glowed in the light of the Moon, his white garments casting a brilliant aura around him. (9) I carried the child around the circle of assembled disciples, allowing each to view the Chosen One and bask in his presence. (10) And as the child passed each disciple, the disciple greeted the child, saying,
(11) "Blessed by the Moon are all who join us,
through the Moon's light shall you be blessed."
(12) I brought the child to the center of the circle, laying him on a pedestal carved of a single block of marble, placed where the moon shines brightest. (13) Then, I turned to the assembled disciples and welcomed them, and they repeated after me, saying,
(14) "The Moon is endowed with power and vigor,
its splendor radiates across the universe.
(15) May the Moon be established forever, eternal,
omniscient and present through all generations."
(13) Two disciples came forth, people of worthy character, committed to the Creed. (14) They took their places on either side of the pedestal, and I stood between them, all of us facing inward towards the child. (15) As they did so, I addressed the members of the Creed, and I said to them, (16) "Disciples of Obscurum! Rejoice tonight under the Moon's rays and give thanks to Her for the blessings She grants. (17) For tonight, we welcome our savior to our fold; (18) tonight, the Moon gazes upon Her Chosen for the first time.
(19) "I give thanks to the Moon that She selected me to raise our Chosen One, (20) he who will someday become the second Soul Marauder. (21) Until that day comes, I dedicate myself to this Creed, to lead and to guide all of us on the Lunar Path. (22) And I devote myself to teaching this child all that I know of Obscurum, so that he may someday be blessed to surpass even my knowledge. (23) And I pray that, someday, when I am gathered to the heavens, that She will find favor in me and how I raised this child."
(24) The disciple to my left stepped forward and placed on the pedestal a silver basin of water, (25) which had been blessed by the Moon the full moon prior. (26) The disciple to my right added to the water a collection of oils: (27) rose, so he should relax in the Moon's presence, geranium, so he should find balance in leadership, and peppermint, so he should be brave. (28) Carefully, I lifted the child up above my head, so all could see him, (29) and I proclaimed, "Now, let us baptize this child, and induct him into the Creed in the name of the Moon." (30) And in one fluid motion, I submerged the child entirely in the water, baptizing him in the name of the Moon.
(31) Once I lifted the child out of the water, the disciple to my left removed the basin from the pedestal, (32) and the disciple to my right handed me a small silver cup filled with oil. (33) I poured the oil over the child's head, proclaiming, (34) "O, Great Moon, heed my actions today, as I anoint this child who will someday be your prophet. (35) And while he will someday be known as the Soul Marauder, his name famous throughout the land, (36) while he is still learning, he shall simply be called-"
"Vishanti Skada!"
The boy's chin jerks up sharply. Quickly, Vishanti closes his copy of the Selenary, sliding it under his mattress just as his life-giver rounds the corner. "Good afternoon, Tirthika."
"I asked you twenty minutes ago to go and pick up eggs for dinner. What have you been doing all this time?"
"I was simply seeking out my cloak."
Wordlessly, Tirthika closes the door behind her, then gestures towards the cloak very neatly hung on the back of the door. She tilts her head down to look at Vishanti over the rim of her glasses. "Your cloak, Vishanti."
"Thank you, Tirthika."
With a huff, Vishanti pulls his cloak off of the hook and swings it around his body with a flourish, allowing it to settle delicately on his shoulders. He sees a glint of frustration harden in his life-giver's eye as he steps around her to exit his room, but Vishanti pays it no regard.
Tirthika Khan abandoned Obscurum, choosing to walk the way of a heretic instead. She has no right to comment on the actions of the one Chosen to lead it.
Closing the front door of his house behind him, Vishanti sets off towards the general store. He knows that one or another of their neighbors owns chickens, and that they would gladly and generously give him a carton of fresh eggs were he to ask. But Vishanti has no interest in interacting with the plebeians of Twelve any more than he has to. Not when, back in Two, he could have asked any follower of Obscurum to fetch anything for him, and they would have searched for it to the ends of the earth.
There are two reasons why Vishanti was even willing to make this trip to the store, to walk amongst the mortals who dare not worship him. First, the dean of Twelve's Menaeus Snow University is coming for dinner tonight. Though he cannot say he approves of any decision his mother has made in the last decade, Vishanti understands how important it is to his mother that she make a good impression. And if all he needs to do to accomplish that is pick up a carton of eggs, so be it.
The second is that, hopefully, this trip to the store will give him an excuse not to be there.
Sure enough, exactly the Peacekeeper he wants to see is standing outside of the general store. Octavillian Ulixes was one of the most devout followers of Obscurum back in Two. But despite his best efforts, he was unable to tank his Peacekeeper courses well or quickly enough to be assigned to the quarries at eighteen. All of the Lunar Creed mourned the loss of their own to Twelve – that is, until they realized why the Moon had sent him there.
As Vishanti crosses in front of Octavillian to enter the store, the Peacekeeper bows his head, revealing eight small dots drawn on the top of his helmet. Vishanti gives a slow nod in response.
"I look forward to it," Vishanti whispers.
.✩₊˚.⋆◯⋆⁺₊✧.
After greeting Dean Beatrix and her family, Vishanti retires to his room; a particularly bad headache, he explains, one only sleep can cure. He remains there, reading the Selenary in silence until the clock strikes eight.
Then, he dons his cloak once more, slides his window open, and slips out into the night.
As he sneaks through the district, camouflaged into the night by his mantle, his eyes cannot help but drift to the Moon. Sure enough, She is full tonight, just as She has been on every other important evening of Vishanti's life. He wishes more than anything that he could perform the worship rituals tonight, alongside those back home who must now be basking in Her glow.
At least he and Octavillian will have a moment, however brief, to sing Her praises together. And, hopefully, to begin planning for how to get Vishanti back where he belongs.
In lieu of the Quarry of the Devoted, Vishanti waits for Octavillian at the edge of the woods that separates the Residential Sector from the University Campus. It's only another moment before Octavillian arrives, wrapped in a cloak that mirrors Vishanti's own.
"I am blessed by the presence of the Moon's Chosen," Octavillian whispers, bowing his hooded head.
"May the light of the Moon bring blessings to you," Vishanti replies. "What tidings do you bring tonight?"
"A mix," admits Octavillian. "Would you prefer the good tidings first? Or the… less good tidings?"
"The Moon has not yet reached Her apex," Vishanti responds. "Let the bad tidings pass before She does, so we may bask fully in Her glory."
"Understood." Octavillian straightens a tad. "I have been researching potential methods for you to return to District Two at some point after the Reaping. Unfortunately, there is no shortcut. As per your parents' custody agreement upon their divorce, your mother became your legal guardian after your father's death. Therefore, your move to District Twelve was wholly above board; we cannot make use of any of the protections implemented for children transported against their will."
"But I can still apply for relocation. Anyone may do that."
"That is correct. But to do so would require a substantial financial investment, and the bureaucracy involved may cause the process to take months or even years, if your request is even approved. There is no guarantee, unfortunately, that the Creed will still be there by the time you return."
"The Moon will protect them and keep them safe. And I trust that She will guide those officers who review my paperwork so I may make it back to Two in haste and in peace."
"May that be Her will."
"Now, what of the good tidings? For the bad ones did not strike me as bad."
"Seeing as the Reaping is fast approaching, my supervisor has frequently assigned my platoon to preparation shifts in the Justice Building. As such, I have been able to eavesdrop on conversations between Twelve's government and the officials in the Capitol discussing a concern of the Capitol's regarding this year's Reaping. It appears as though District Twelve is the only district where less than half of the total number of Reaping slips belong to children on Statutes - in other words, the odds of a non-Statute child being Reaped are technically greatest in Twelve."
"I do not completely understand the concern. Though the Statute System does increase the odds of a tribute on a statute being Reaped, it is not a guarantee, correct? Might an innocent child still be reaped in a district where the majority of children are on Statutes?"
"Whether valid or not, the position on the matter, to my understanding, is that if an innocent child is Reaped in another district, it is simply bad luck. However, if they are Reaped here, it may be viewed as the Capitol's failure to insulate those children from such a fate."
"So you are saying, Octavillian," Vishanti clarifies, "that if one were to… assist the Capitol should this problem arise, one would be very popular in the eyes of the president?"
"Precisely."
Vishanti exhales deeply. To say he had never considered volunteering would be a gross understatement; even the Creed could not insulate him from the fervor of the Games back in Two. In fact, he had nearly done so the previous year, viewing it as the only way to return home. Vishanti could make any request he wanted as Victor, and being a native of Two, he would surely be allowed to reside in his birth district.
But the closer the Reaping drew, the more the death of Ekayan Skada haunted his son. Vishanti knew that the Creed was being held together by the hope of their Chosen's return. The chances of Vishanti dying in the Games were slim, especially with the Moon watching over him; even so, Vishanti could not allow himself in good conscience to create a scenario in which the already fragile Creed lost both of its leaders in under a year.
The risk of the Games is no less this year than last. If anything, it might be greater, as Vishanti has not had any formal training in over a year. It would still be safer for the Creed to wait, to return to Two and the Creed through other means. But if the circumstances presented themselves for Vishanti to prove himself useful to the Capitol, he could use his leverage to protect the Creed in perpetuity.
(Vishanti has always said he would give his life to the Creed, just as his father did before him. He had always imagined such a life being long and prosperous, with many children who would devote themselves to the way of the Moon just as their father did.
To enter the Games would be to throw the promise of that away. It would be the truest sacrifice to the Creed anyone could make: the loss of his guaranteed future in exchange for the future of his followers.)
(Perhaps this is why the Moon sent him to Twelve.)
Vishanti's eyes drift upwards to the Moon. Her countenance shines down brightly upon him, the clearest full moon Vishanti has ever seen. The light bathes Vishanti in a sense of peace that he has not felt since that last night with his father.
The Moon's plans are great for you, Vishanti.
Will She tell me what they are, Father?
She may, and She may not. But you can always look to Her for guidance, for She alone knows the path your future will take.
He has no way of knowing what will happen next. Vishanti's name may be pulled out of the Reaping Bowl. So may that of an innocent child. And so may that of a convicted criminal. Only the Moon knows which path is the best for Vishanti to take, which way forward will ensure that the Creed may continue to follow Her light.
And as long as Vishanti can see the Moon, as long as Vishanti trusts in her presence, the legacy he so desperately craves cannot be far away.
Honestly, this is a pretty fast turnaround for me! (yes both of these povs i'd written before but i had to edit them for the changes i made when i moved verses and also i was trying to get ahead but couldnt quite do it so like bear with me this isnt bad) I promised I'd get a chapter out for all of the bonanza-ers on SYOT Verses, so here it is, District Twelve! A gentle reminder that my D12 is the research district, not the coal district, so if life feels so much better here than it does in canon, that's because it really is.
A huge thanks to Human Wiki for subbing Poe, and to ladyqueerfoot for subbing Vishanti. Yes, neither of those two are Ryunosuke, who was Vishi's original district partner; I realized it made more sense to flip the two of them for a few subplot reasons. I would say this is the last change I'll make, but I'll also believe that when I see it.
As always, a small plug for the SYOT Verses Discord server! It's my baby and I am always so happy to welcome new members in! You can check it out through this link, just delete the spaces: discord . gg / mUXHvTzxq6
My hope is that we'll see D11 up next month at some point; I'm at least half done with the intro I need to write for it, and I have a week off of school this month, so I'm determined to make it happen! However things pan out, though, thank you all so much for sticking with me and being so patient. It really means a lot!
Anyways, see you all as soon as I can with District Eleven!
xoxo, xxxi