Zryan Douglas
Age 16
District Four Male
Zryan stands at the helm of the boat, gripping the railing with one hand so tightly that his fingers are going numb, and gripping the flask in his coat pocket, warm from being pressed against him the entire day with the other.
The earthy smell of moisture is heavy in the air, even heavier than the smell of fish. The waves rush around the boat, causing it to sway, but the sound only reminds Zryan of rain.
He squeezes the flash even tighter…no he really shouldn't…but the need to suppress the memory is too much for him, and he sneaks a gulp of rum, hoping no one would notice.
Zryan sighs. Magnus Casper had warned him against turning to drink to cope with the trauma, but quite honestly, Zryan could care less what that had to say. He would heal his way, on his own time, and he didn't care how he did it.
"That stuff ain't good for your liver, boy."
The gruff sound of Captain Fairway, hoarse from years of rum and cheap cigars, makes Zryan jump ten feet. He whips around, and reaches for his spear…only to realize it is no longer there. It is in the Capitol, far away.
A raised eyebrow from his captain causes Zryan to inwardly curse himself. Fairway is no threat. He never had been. He is a harsh and stubborn man, hardened from years of losses out on the water and in the war, and especially by the recent passing of his lovely wife, but he means well, and he cares about the people under his command.
Especially Zryan, who had served under Fairway from when he was brought on as a cabin boy seven years ago when his parents were killed in the war, to now, when he unexpectedly became first mate just before he was hauled off to the Capitol, a position that was strangely still available when he returned.
"I'm sorry, sir," Zryan mutters, looking back out on the water.
"Nothin' to worry about, boy," Fairway replies, walking up to join Zryan at the helm as he carefully pries the flask away. "Just makin' sure you aren't drunk on the job, or you don't wreck your body like I did."
Someone must drop a crate because a loud crash reverberates through the entire ship. Zryan grips the railing tighter and squeezes his eyes shut as lightning flashes across his eyelids.
A chill runs up his spine, all too similar to the tingling he felt when that bolt struck, wiping out his competition and nearly taking him out too.
The screams in his head drown out Captain Fairway shouting at the crate-dropper. The smell of burning flesh overrides the rain and fish, and for a moment, Zryan is back in the arena, shivering from the rain and fear, seeing the signs of an imminent lightning strike, throwing his bloody, metal spear and dropping to the ground, praying it would be enough.
It was, but it almost wasn't.
Zryan wasn't sure how long he was sprawled, in the rain, waiting for someone to kill him, hearing the moaning of those succumbing to his injuries, pain reverberating through every cell in his body.
It took way too long for him to realize that nobody would finish him off, even longer for the rain to stop and Magnus to show his face and make sure he wasn't dead.
Zryan was given just enough medical treatment to stay alive, and then shipped back home with lightning behind his eyelids and burned onto his skin.
It still hurts sometimes.
"C'mon, son," Fairway says sadly, pulling Zryan from his thoughts. "We best head back before the storm hits anyway. Once we're ashore, I'll buy you the best rum the district has to offer. Better than that cheap shit you have there. But only if you promise to keep that flask filled with something that's not hard liquor."
Zryan manages a shaky smile. "Aye, Captain." He pries his hand off of the railing and tries to block out the screams once again. He doesn't want to tell Captain Fairway that he's wrong.
The worst of the storm has already come and gone.
What started as a sailor story became...that. It's short, sweet, sad, and honestly, I'm quite happy with it. Zryan is yet another traumatized kid, but he has his crew and his captain, who is sort of a father figure to him. As for the storm, well, let's just say the ceiling of the old stadium was broken that year.
On another note, THERE'S A NEW HUNGER GAMES BOOK COMING! HAYMITCH GAMES! And at the rate I'm going, Survivors 50 will be compliant! (Yeah, this project's going to take a WHILE lol).
One last announcement, the next chapter of ASM should be out within the next week or so, possibly as early as tomorrow or Sunday. It will probably be the last chapter before VE starts up though. I'm super excited to be participating this year!
Until next time everyone!