(Chapter 21: Elora)

Alone amidst the array of daggers and knives in the training centre, I traced my finger over their handles, memories of my father's ornate dagger flooding my mind. Its steel blade, engraved with intricate swirls and leaves, had once been a source of both fascination and fear. With a flick of his wrist, my brother Peter could dispatch any prey from a distance, his skill with the dagger unmatched. None of the weapons before me resembled his, but they still stirred memories within me.

A soft tap on my shoulder jolted me from my reverie. Startled, I turned to find a boy standing behind me, his caramel-coloured eyes sparkling with amusement. My initial thought was of William, my ever-present shadow, but this boy was different, more handsome, more casual. He grinned warmly as he greeted me.

"Hello," he said, his grin infectious.

"You scared me." I scowl, fumbling with the knife in my hands.

For a moment, I frowned, caught off guard by his sudden appearance. Then realisation dawned – this was James Lysander, the District 1 tribute. I swallowed hard, my gaze returning to the knives before me.

"Good at throwing daggers?" James asked, his tone casual.

Struggling to maintain composure, I replied, "Nah, not really. I'd like to be though. I used to see my brother do it all the time. He was pretty good at it."

As I spoke, heat rose to my cheeks, my mind chiding me for revealing too much. I kept my back turned to him, unwilling to show vulnerability.

James moved to my side, leaning against the knife stand. My heart raced at his proximity.

"That's cool. I could teach you, if you like," he offered.

Teach me? The thought sent my mind into a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Why would a Career like James want to help me? Yet, the prospect of learning from him ignited a spark of hope within me.

Turning to meet his gaze, I hesitated before speaking. "I'm sure you'd rather not waste your time. Why don't you go run off with your Career buddies? How about that girl of yours?"

James's frown mirrored my own uncertainty. "I'm not with Lilly. She's just kidding," he replied, his tone exasperated.

Despite my apprehension, a smirk tugged at my lips. "Ok, so she lied about being pregnant with your child?"

"Yes." James says with an exasperated sigh.

Exhaling slowly, I turned my attention to the target. "Alright, sure. Teach me to throw a knife."

As James extended his hand for a handshake, I hesitated before accepting. His touch sent a shiver down my spine, yet I welcomed it. With a firm grip, I shook his hand.

"I'm James," he said, grinning widely.

"Elora," I replied, a small smile playing at my lips.

"Watch and learn," he said, his confidence infectious. With a dagger in hand, James demonstrated his skill, hitting the target with precision.

As I mimicked his stance, his gentle guidance filled me with a newfound sense of determination. With each throw, I felt a sense of accomplishment building within me.

"Is this good?" I asked, seeking his approval.

"Uh, nearly," he replied, adjusting my position with a touch that sent my heart racing.

With his encouragement, I released the knife, the thrill of the moment overpowering my doubts. Though my aim fell short of his, the satisfaction of hitting the target filled me with pride.

"Great job, Elora!" James cheered, offering a high five.

A smile spread across my face, a warmth filling my chest. In James, I had found not just a teacher, but a friend – an ally in the daunting arena that awaited us. And for the first time since boarding that tribute train, I felt a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness