Calypso Castellanos, 18.
District Four.
Wringing her hands in the fabric of her pants, the air was so thick Calypso could hardly breathe.
It was as if by clinging onto herself, she could cling onto the spot she knew she'd already lost fair and square to Trinity Bane. But part of her still hoped- still clung to the desperate futile possibility that maybe it could still be her.
(When would she stop lying to herself?)
Sending a quick glance behind her, she searched the crowd- her parents weren't anywhere to be seen, just as she'd expected. It wasn't like they ever turned up for anything. Why would this be any different? Calypso just wanted to be seen, wanted somebody to care like her parents never did. It had been eighteen years, why would they change now? But if she could win, the whole District would have no choice but to know her name- and her parents would have no choice but to change their ways too.
People had never looked once at Calypso. So, she would give them a reason to look twice.
"Welcome everyone who could be here today," A deep voice rang through the snapped her attention to the head trainer, a man with dark hair named Link. "I'm sure you all recognize how important today is to all of us."
Calypso nodded eagerly in unison with much of the crowd, and Link ducked his head with a smile. "Wonderful, now we'll be starting with the male volunteer- Octavius Nikoletos."
A familiar, dark-haired boy stood up from across the aisle from her, moving towards the stage. Tavi was familiar to Calypso, but she'd done her best to stay out of his way. There was something about the way his eyes glinted, the way he held himself, that always put Calypso off- and the accident during his tournament only made her warier. She'd witnessed it- she'd seen him cut down Halifax like it was nothing. And despite it being ruled an accident, it didn't change how she felt every time she caught his gaze.
There was a smattering of quiet applause, the loudest coming from a shorter girl Calypso had seen around the Academy- Tavi's sister. The applause soon resided, as Tavi shook Link's hand, his expression unwavering the entire time.
Calypso felt herself tense leaning forward in her seat as Link stepped up to the microphone again. "And as for the female volunteer, please welcome Trinity Bane to the stage."
Calypso could practically feel her heart shatter- she was happy for Trinity, they'd been training together for years- but that didn't make it hurt any less.
She'd been clinging onto the hope that winning the Games would change everything for her entire life, and now there was no chance- no possibility. Calypso would never be more than a ghost, unseen.
Nobody would ever know Calypso Castellanos.
It had only been three days since Calypso had lost it all.
She'd gone through the motions every day- wake up, eat and shower, leave the house without a word to her parents. Sometimes she even wondered if they knew she was gone. She wondered if they even knew how close their daughter had come to going into the Games.
They didn't, and Calypso didn't want to remind them.
Calypso would walk the same route to the Academy through the mostly empty streets of her neighbourhood. There was hardly anybody out. All of the fishermen left much earlier than her, and most other people would leave just after her. It was always a quiet walk, but she never minded. As she crested the top of a hill, she could look out over the water. The occasional morning, if she timed it right, Calypso would even catch a glimpse of the sun rising over the ocean, glittering orange and gold on the horizon. Sometimes she wished she could stop and watch the sky paint itself in colours of morning, bright and intense but never overwhelming.
(Maybe one day, she'd have the time to.)
The doors were never locked, and Calypso followed a stream of other students into the building. A few of the younger kids would gawk at her as she passed through, only eleven or twelve and already learning how to kill. It nearly broke her heart, the way they idolized killers, even when Calypso knew she could've turned out to be one of them herself if things had been just a bit different. She would've had to kill people- could've ended up killing kids no older than twelve herself.
Maybe that was for the better- the trainers always told her she was too nice, that her heart wasn't quite in the right place. Why couldn't she be the Career everyone wanted? Why couldn't she be vicious, and strong, and everything the girls who surpassed her were?
But why wasn't Calypso enough? She'd worked hard enough- maintained a top position in the Academy for nearly three years. She'd given everything to the Academy, and now she was nothing to them. But in a way, Calypso always had been. They didn't care about her unless she was first unless she was the best, and she wasn't.
That wouldn't ever change.
The only reason she'd come back to the Academy was for continued training- they'd kept a small group of the higher ranking kids around to keep the designated Volunteer sharp- and it was never a bad idea to have a few backups either. It was often the small group that would be selected to be pulled into working as trainers themselves- a notable trainer prospect had been Dean Karafanda, although he'd been sent into the Games and subsequently died. Calypso wasn't sure if she wanted that or not. Really, she didn't know what she wanted anymore. She'd worked towards the Games for so many years, and now she was supposed to decide what she wanted to do for the rest of her life? How could she possibly refocus so quickly?
She'd been training with every other girl there since she was twelve, but still Calypso doubted they knew her outside of her name and placement in the rankings. Quickly, Calypso got herself ready, keeping her head down as much as she could.
A few of them talked, and Trinity herself entered the locker room a few minutes after Calypso. She kept her gaze down as the other girl passed through the room, everyone following suit, falling silent.
She didn't want to be the one falling silent. Calypso wanted to be the one everyone revered, whose every move was seen and recognized.
Calypso wanted everything Trinity Bane had, and yet she never would. It hadn't mattered how hard she'd worked, not one bit. No matter what she did, she'd never be enough for District Four.
Pathetic. Soft-hearted. Desperate.
That was all Calypso Castellanos would ever be.
The minute she was ready, Calypso shoved her bag away, nervously rushing through the doors out into the training room. She claimed a spot in the corner, away from the others, stretching and waiting for everyone to arrive. Many of the best Careers would be let out of school for the few months leading up to their trials, but most returned afterwards. Calypso didn't mind missing school- she was more than on track to graduate, and she'd never been anything short of a model student. Sometimes she wondered if she brought home higher and higher marks if her parents would give her a minute of their time. Did parents ever actually put their children's best report cards on the fridge?
Calypso had never been lucky enough to find out.
The other girls filed in until eventually there were six of them in total. The boys were on the other side of the room, numbered five instead of six. Many of them had been reluctant to return after what Tavi had done, and Calypso couldn't blame them. They all gave the dark-haired boy a wide berth as he threw knife after knife into a dummy with more accuracy than Calypso had ever seen. The boy turned, and his gaze pierced deep into hers. Calypso quickly turned her attention elsewhere.
Before long the trainers entered, designating tasks for each group as they crowded around- the boys would be running agility courses outside, while the girls would participate in duels. They'd been using real weapons for nearly six months by that point, but Calypso didn't mind. She wasn't particularly keen on any of the weapons, and so she had become the weapon- whether or not her opponent was using a sword made of wood or a blade of metal didn't matter to her.
Calypso listened for her name- she was paired up with a vicious trident-wielding girl named Rey. She'd beaten Rey in the semi-finals of the final tournament, turning her aggression against her with ease. Trinity would be fighting another girl, Vanessa, and Calypso knew it wouldn't be much of a fight. Trinity and Vanessa would be going first, and so she moved to the nearby benches, perching on the end.
Calypso always liked watching the others fight- as long as nobody got hurt, which they often did. One of the best ways to figure out how to win against the others was to watch them fight. That strategy had carried her far over the years- it was how she'd gotten as far as she had during the tournament.
Trinity, however, was different- no matter how hard she tried, Calypso could never quite get a read on her. Her movements were too unpredictable, too quick for Calypso to counter.
She watched as the two girls circled each other, Trinity twirling her butterfly knives, one in each hand. Vanessa wielded a long sword- too heavy to ever possibly match Trinity. Calypso wondered if they were pairing the girls up with intent, putting one of the lower-ranked girls against Trinity to challenge her, but making it less likely she'd be injured before the Games by a more competent fighter.
Calypso stretched her arms far above her head as a whistle blared through the room, Trinity lunging at Vanessa. The larger girl dodged Trinity's attack but swung her sword clumsily- lacking the precision needed in such a fight. They went back and forth, Trinity pressing the other girl back strike by strike until she was very nearly out of the ring. Calypso expected the fight to be over in just a minute or two-
What she didn't expect, however, was the terrible screech of pain that rang through the air. Calypso's head shot up as Trinity hit the ground, the greatsword embedded in her stomach, blood pooling around her crumpled form.
"Medic!" The trainer yelled, all of the girls freezing just as Calypso had. "Medic- quick!"
Calypso didn't move a muscle as a group of medics descended on Trinity, carting her away in an instant. Soon enough, all that was left were the girls and a smeared pool of blood in the center of the ring.
Things weren't ever as cut and dry as Calypso thought they were.
"We need you to fill in," Link said, looming over his large desk despite the fact he was sitting. "She won't recover in time."
"Are- are you sure you… want me?" Calypso responded, gulping nervously.
"Certain," Link nodded. "You were our second place, which means you're the second best option."
"I see," Calypso nodded, unsure of what else to say. She couldn't help but gawk at the office- she'd never had the luck or the misfortune to be pulled in through all her years of training. The head trainers' office wasn't a place for people like Calypso.
"So? Will you take the spot?"
Would she? This was everything she'd strived for all those years. She could finally go home and tell her parents she'd done it- she'd really gotten the spot. But at the same time, did she deserve it? Calypso Castellanos was nothing more than second place, the second best option for a job, and the Academy didn't want second place.
Maybe she'd never be anything more than second place. Maybe she'd never be good enough to be anything better, but she'd worked all her life for this. Calypso would be seen- finally seen, by all of Panem. And maybe her death would be witnessed by everyone in the country- but the chance her Victory would be seen just the same wasn't something Calypso would say no to. She would fulfill this assignment given to her even if it meant death.
If only to be seen, it'd be worth it.
"I'm in."
Adonis Priest, 17
District One.
Adonis let their hammer drop, the head thudding against the ground. They leaned on their weapon as her opponent quickly exited the ring.
"Seen enough yet, Givenchy? Or are you really trying to run me ragged today?" Adonis called out as Gucci flashed them a thumbs-up from the sidelines.
"Nah, I think you beat the shit out of enough kids for today," Gucci responded, holding up her water bottle. With the signal to finish, Adonis hefted her weapon, exiting the ring. Gucci took her weapon, shoving a bottle of water in her hands to replace it. Adonis took a large swig of water, wiping her face with the back of her taped hand.
"You know I could've put that back myself."
"It's not like I'm doing anything at this exact moment. Sure, I'd like to talk to you, but you can't exactly talk with a mouthful of water, can you?" Givenchy responded, his raised eyebrow appearing over the top of his sunglasses.
Adonis could only shrug- he was right, as Gucci Givenchy tended to be, but that wouldn't stop her from giving him a hard time. It was simply the nature of things, even after almost a year of training together. She pushed him, and he pushed them right back- to be the best Careers they could be.
(Not good. Not great. The best there was.)
"Anyways, you're looking good- Trials are coming up, but I doubt I need to remind you of that," Gucci continued.
"Of course not."
"You should take some time off, you know. Not a lot- maybe just one night. Have some fun and all that," Gucci grinned, sliding his glasses down his nose, giving her the kind of troublesome look only Gucci Givenchy could.
"Wouldn't happen to know a guy, would ya?" Adonis responded, peeling the tape off of their hands and wrists- she'd always liked this part, the way cool air hit their sweat-dampened skin.
"Oh me? Never! I'd be incredibly disappointed you know, if you swung around my place at like… oh, I don't know, nine tonight? And I couldn't even bring myself to explain how upset I'd be if you happened to bring your buddies along too," Gucci explained, feigning unconvincing seriousness.
"Never thought you'd be so desperate for company that you'd make such outrageous demands of me," Adonis gasped, tossing her things into her bag haphazardly. "They could expel me for this, Givenchy!"
"I'm never desperate, Priest. But really, I better get going. I'll… see you around," Gucci laughed, offering a hand out to Adonis. She quickly executed their usual handshake, and with a quick adjustment of his sunglasses, Gucci was gone. Adonis had no question in their mind that they'd go- it wasn't often Gucci Givenchy threw parties, and it was even harder to get invited. If the Adonis of a year prior knew they'd been invited to one personally, she would've probably shit her pants.
A year was a long time, and yet it had all gone by in the blink of an eye. Getting pushed up a year to volunteer ahead of schedule. Getting to train alongside and befriend Gucci Givenchy himself, who the entire Academy was in awe of- they were the best pair of Volunteer potentials anybody had seen in nearly twenty-five years.
(Adonis had earned this. She had earned her position, and still, it wasn't enough.)
The spot would be Adonis', there was no question about it- they'd been forged into a flawless weapon. Nothing could stop them now- not the Academy, not any other trainees.
Not even Gucci Givenchy.
He was good- very good- there was no doubt in Adonis' mind about that. She'd surpass the best the Careers had to offer, as well as whatever the other Districts threw at her. Only one could win in the end, and it would be them.
After all, there wasn't a single doubt in their mind that Adonis Priest would claim their throne.
(The day she sat upon that throne, with a crown upon their head, it would be enough.)
Most of the training room floor had been cleared by the time Adonis walked out. They often stayed late, and leaving while others were still around felt wrong. They almost wanted to turn right around and rack some weights up, or run the track until their lungs burned and the echoes of her footsteps resonated in her ears the whole night.
If it was any other night, Adonis would. But not tonight. No, they couldn't ignore a call to arms for a good time. Especially not from Givenchy.
For all she knew, she wouldn't have another chance for fun- this was her last opportunity to be with her friends and see where the night took them.
(If they treated every night like their last, there'd be no reason to worry.)
"Weren't you planning on going home tonight?" Merlot asked. Adonis hopped up onto Yeezy's bed. He was right, they were supposed to go home, at least according to her parents. That didn't mean she could stand being there- not on a day like this. Not when they were only ever insufferable about her brother, bending over backwards to celebrate a life he'd never had to begin with.
(It had been eighteen years to the day since the first Adonis was born. Adonis had emerged cold, and breathless- dead with no hope of bringing him back. He hadn't even had a chance to shape the world as their parents dreamed.
Nine months later it all fell to her- a daughter, not a son, but viewed as one just the same. Adonis would never be their brother, and despite him dying the minute he entered the world, she would never live up to him. To their parents, who still worshipped him, who'd never even given her a chance to be her own person, she was still their Adonis. They'd cast the true her aside, even though she'd be the one to bring them everything they'd dreamed of.
But she would never be him.
They could never bring him back. Adonis would deliver her parents' hopes and dreams to their doorstep, but not in the form of their son.
In the form of a Victor.)
"I was supposed to," Adonis responded. "Doesn't mean I will."
Merlot shuddered, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "I couldn't dream of doing that."
"That's because you'd never dream of breaking the rules, Lolo."
"Who's Lolo? Certainly not me, I'm Merlot," Merlot said, dry as a desert.
"If you're not Lolo, why did you respond to the nickname?"
"Be quiet."
Adonis laughed, laying back on Yeezy's bed. "When's the chucklefuck gonna be back?"
"Dunno, Yaziel said he was running down to the store for… snacks?"
"Of course, what else?"
Merlot grumbled something quietly, turning his attention back to his textbooks- ever dutiful Merlot, always studying. Adonis swore no matter where he went he had something to study, whether it be paperwork, textbooks, or notes. If they didn't know any better, Adonis would've guessed he was nearly failing out of his nursing classes, he was so intense, but that wasn't true. No, Merlot was top of his class- and while Adonis could respect his drive, sometimes her friend needed to relax.
After a few more minutes of Adonis nearly falling asleep on Yeezy's bunk, the door jiggled loudly and then opened.
"Hey, Lo- I got you some of those chips you like," Yeezy stated as he stepped into the room, quickly registering Adonis on his bed. "Man, at least leave some room for me."
"There's plenty," Adonis shot back with a grin, patting the open space next to them. "I'd tell you to get in, but I don't want to share. And besides, we have plans tonight."
"We do?" Merlot butted in, as Yeezy handed him his chips. "What kind of plans- I have a test next week I need to do review for and-"
Before Merlot could get another word out, Yaziel put a hand over their friend's mouth, Merlot's eyes widening. "Continue, Don."
"Thank you. So, Givenchy invited me to one of his parties today. And also by proxy invited you two."
"For real? And you didn't tell me until now?" Yaziel exclaimed loudly. "When? How much time do we have to get ready?"
"Plenty, it's not till nine," Adonis shrugged. "That's like two and a half hours."
"Excuse me? When we also have to dress this one, that is not enough time," Yeezy said, gesturing to Merlot with his free hand.
"Yaziel!" Merlot responded, pulling Yeezy's hand away from his mouth. "Adonis, are you sure? I mean… Givenchy hardly knows who we are. I thought he only invited people he knew to his parties."
"You know me, he told me to bring my friends, that's the end of this discussion. You aren't gonna turn this down, right?"
"No, you aren't," Yeezy declared, ruffling his shorter friend's hair. "Now, let's get moving! We don't have all night!"
They could hardly hear their thoughts over the music and the chattering of people. Adonis didn't mind though- she wasn't here to think, and it was quite frankly the last thing they wanted to do.
With ease, Adonis knocked back the rest of the drink in her hand. She wasn't getting any drunker without drinking anything, after all, and so they weaved their way through the crowd towards the kitchen. Perhaps they'd even find Yeezy and Merlot there. They'd run off together twenty minutes prior, or more correctly, Yeezy had dragged Merlot off by the hand, and Adonis still had yet to see them again. Perhaps they were somewhere finally making out, but that might've been her hopes speaking.
The moment Adonis passed through the door to the kitchen, she was caught by the shoulder. Adonis spun on her heel to find the face of Gucci Givenchy grinning back at them.
"Glad you could make it," Gucci exclaimed, raising his voice over the din of the party. "Sorry I wasn't there to greet you, I was dealing with drunken teenagers."
"No problem man," Adonis responded, Givenchy slinging an arm around their shoulders. "I'm glad to know the crowd's actually teenagers, I thought it might just be a bunch of old geezers like you."
Gucci snorted, guiding them deeper into the kitchen- towards the drinks. "A bunch of geezers would be much easier to wrangle, they're not as fast."
Adonis couldn't argue with that- Givenchy was right, but they wouldn't let him know that. In a flash, their mentor swapped the empty cup out of their hand for a full one.
"How's your evening been so far? Found anything interesting? Anybody interesting?" Givenchy continued- he had a habit of talking endlessly. Or perhaps it was simply built into his nature. Either way Adonis couldn't tell, but they didn't mind a bit.
"Not yet, why? Got any ideas?"
"I might know a guy. Or a few guys."
"You know everyone here, Givenchy."
"Oh, how you flatter me. Of course I do!"
Adonis snorted, taking a sip of their drink- it was far stronger than whatever they'd had before. "Get to the point before you forget it."
"Of course, of course- now…" Givenchy trailed off, just as somebody approached him, asking her mentor a question in hushed tones. After a moment, he turned back to Adonis. "I'll be back in just a minute bud, hold tight!"
They nodded a confirmation, watching as Gucci disappeared into the crowds again. He was scattered- always had been, between helping others and training himself. He was just as busy as Adonis was, but the difference was everyone and everything stretching him in all directions. When Adonis only had one task, one goal, Givenchy had four. He had been dedicated to her since the day she had been bumped ahead a year. But still, they couldn't help but wonder if one day he'd snap.
They remembered the day they'd found out they'd be moving up a year clear as water. The way they'd been disappointed when pulled away from a sparring match with Macie. The way she could practically hear her own heartbeat in her ears. Was she to be expelled? Kicked out of the Academy? For what?
It wasn't the case- no, they'd be moving up a year because there were no suitable volunteers. Nobody could possibly beat them out, despite having a year of age and extra training on her.
If Adonis hadn't died, he would've been volunteering the very same year- that was the first thing out of their mother's mouth when they told her the news. She didn't congratulate her daughter, or tell Adonis she was proud of her, no. It was always about him. Always about the Adonis who hadn't lived.
What about the one who had?
They would be the Adonis Priest who ingrained herself in history- not as a second child, not as the namesake of somebody who was meant for more.
No. As a Victor.
Octavius "Tavi" Nikoletos, 18.
District Four.
Tavi pushed the door closed behind him, placing his keys in their usual place by the door. Pausing for a moment to listen- the entire house was silent, the foyer and the living room beyond it completely dark.
"Hello?" Tavi called out as he kicked his shoes off.
There was no response as he moved deeper into the house. It wasn't uncommon for the house to be this empty. Aegeus was probably off at whatever piano lesson, with Mother in tow. He didn't know where Father or Ophelia was though- more than likely off training in the yard, or staying late at the Academy.
Wandering through the kitchen, Tavi stopped to dig through the cupboards. He found a sleeve of crackers, munching on one as he padded towards his room. The hallway was dark, most of the doors firmly shut save for one.
Ophelia's room.
Tavi paused as he passed, peering in. He'd stopped at this door many times before since that day all those years ago. It didn't matter- it was always the same. She was always perfect little Ophelia with the whole world in her hands, the center of Father's attention- she had everything. Love and adoration and the natural talent to back it up.
And what did Tavi have?
Nothing.
Father always wanted more and more, even once Tavi had given everything he had to training until nothing was left. And so Father simply moved on- onto Ophelia, flawless Ophelia, who could do no wrong in Father's eyes. If only things were different. If only he'd pushed a little more, worked a little harder. If only he'd gone through with it, all those years ago.
It all could've been his.
The slamming of the door was accompanied by the quiet chatter of voices. Tavi's head snapped up as he forced himself to move out of his statue-like state. He pushed onward down the hall to a room that was barely his, in a house that hadn't been home in years.
Tavi couldn't ever escape what could've been his. If only he were different- if only he was better.
(If only he wasn't born Octavius Nikoletos.)
Tavi kept his head low, lingering in the corner of the locker room and twirling his knives as he waited for his group to be called. The other boys made themselves scarce- many of them were greeting their friends and families who'd come to watch them perform. Tavi had hoped that Father might turn up despite everything, but he knew it wouldn't happen.
There was nobody there for Tavi Nikoletos, just as it had always been.
Whatever the case, Tavi knew he'd win the tournament. He had to. He'd made it this far, he was this close to the volunteer spot being his. All he needed to do was make it to the end and beat Halifax.
He would. No matter the cost, Tavi would win.
The Games would be his.
"Nikoletos!" One of the other boys called. "Somebody's askin' for ya."
Tavi raised his head- who could possibly be asking for him?
"Who is it?"
The boy- Drachma, from the year below him- shrugged, gesturing to the doorway which led back out into the Academy. "Dunno, she's out there."
"Fine," Tavi sighed, pushing off the wall. He made his way out of the locker room, the door slamming shut behind him as he faced-
"You left before I could talk to you!" Ophelia said, her hands on her hips.
"I had things to do. What are you doing here?"
"I came to watch," Ophelia shrugged.
"Don't you have something else better to be doing? Training? Wandering around the house like a lost puppy?" Tavi snapped, taking satisfaction in how her eyes dimmed.
"No of course not," Ophelia shook her head. "Besides that, I had something to tell you."
"What?"
"Good luck out there! You're gonna do great!" Ophelia beamed.
Good luck. What did Ophelia know about luck? She'd never needed it a day in her life- she'd never been at risk of losing everything she'd worked her entire life for. Father always loved her, she could only do right in his mind, and where did that leave him?
A failure. Thrown out just as soon as Father found something better, as if Tavi had never existed at all. He'd done everything- everything in his power to be better.
Maybe Father could've loved him, if only it wasn't for her.
Tavi didn't say a word, instead turning around, and storming off into the locker room again. Ophelia reached for him, but he kicked the door closed behind him with a resounding thud.
Ophelia had no right to speak to him that way- no right to try and understand him because she never could- never would. She had never been seven and curled up on the floor, Father yelling for him to get up, to try again- never seen Father's face and known she wasn't enough. She'd never been eight, listening through the door to Mother and Father arguing over her future- heir or Victor, it didn't matter, because Tavi wasn't good enough either way.
Ophelia had never been eighteen, so close to losing it all.
Pacing the locker room felt like the longest ten minutes of Tavi's life- he hoped Ophelia had left and hadn't bothered to return to the crowd. Maybe if she had, she'd come to understand just how useless her brother was, she'd understand why she'd been born in the first place, because Tavi wasn't enough.
He would be though. He could be. If Tavi won, Father would finally change- his son would be the Victor he'd always wanted.
Tavi would make it so.
Fight, after fight flew by in a blur, and all Tavi knew was careful precision- strike after strike, taking down the boys so cruelly pitted against him. They didn't have a chance. They never would, they were nothing more than fodder for Tavi. They were like ants to him, to be crushed and cast aside as if never there at all.
Tavi hardly had to wipe the sweat from his brow as the last boy fell at his feet.
He could hardly hear himself being announced the winner as he stormed out of the ring towards the back room. Tavi didn't want to see Ophelia. He didn't want to know if she was there or not.
What did it really matter? She wasn't Father. Father who turned up to every single one of her events, big or small, and yet couldn't spare a moment to attend the biggest competition of Tavi Nikoletos' life, couldn't spare a shred of his love, or a minute of his time no matter how hard his son worked.
Tavi would show him. Tavi would show them all.
Nothing would matter if he didn't.
Everyone assumed Halifax would win- there was no question about it, even. He'd been on top of the rankings for years with Tavi always chasing him, never quite able to catch him, no matter how hard he worked. Halifax made it all seem effortless.
Tavi certainly didn't mind being the one to humble him if it meant coming out on top.
It was an eternity before he was called again- the final fight of the day, the biggest spectacle, the main event. Tavi held his head high as he walked out, knives gripped firmly between his hands. The announcer rattled off the same rules- anything was on the table, except for killing. The fight would end once one yielded or was unable to continue the fight.
"I understand," Halifax said, hefting his longsword. Tavi bowed his head in understanding, raising his knives just the same, as the bell rang.
"Good luck."
The last thing Tavi Nikoletos needed was luck.
Halifax lunged at Tavi, cleaving his sword through the air. Tavi spun to the side as the tip of the sword dug into the wooden boards beneath their feet.
"Is that all you've got, Halifax?" Tavi cackled. "I thought you were the best we had to offer."
"Fuck off, Nikoletos," Halifax grunted, yanking his sword out of the ground. Tavi took this moment of pause to dart in, jabbing a dagger into the inside of Halifax's elbow. Halifax grunted in pain, swinging wildly with his sword, but Tavi easily sidestepped the blow.
"Tsk, tsk, you're getting terribly worked up, aren't you? I wouldn't go doing that now, Halifax, that's how you make mistakes."
"Shut up!"
Tavi could only grin- the more he tore Halifax down, the less composed he'd get, and the easier it'd be for Tavi to take him out. This time, instead of waiting, Tavi lunged for the boy, sinking one dagger into his side and another into his shoulder- if Tavi could continue to damage his arms and upper body, it'd slow Halifax down, leaving him open to attacks. Just as Tavi went to stab into his side again, something heavy connected with his chest, sending him falling backwards. He hit the ground hard, his teeth practically rattling in his skull, but he didn't let up for a moment, jumping up to his feet as quickly as he could manage.
"I told you to shut up," Halifax growled, descending onto Tavi and swinging at his head. Tavi ducked, although he could feel the breeze from the swing on his face.
Halifax swung again, his sword glancing off of Tavi's dagger as they exchanged blows. In an instant, Tavi would push Halifax back and get a swipe or two in- some only finding air, but most slicing through clothes and flesh. But just the next moment, Halifax would advance on Tavi, pushing him to evade the heavy sword strikes.
As soon as one gained the upper hand, the other pushed him down again- they were locked in a never-ending cycle of near victory, but never winning.
It was quickly becoming apparent that Halifax was tiring. Tavi wouldn't let up though- no couldn't.
(Could he stop, even if he wanted?)
It didn't matter. This was his final obstacle, this was his final chance to succeed.
He would die before he let his life go to waste.
Tavi didn't let up for a moment, knives sinking into every inch of Halifax's skin. This wasn't luck- Tavi Nikoletos did not need luck. He hardly noticed as Halifax's sword cleaved into his side- it was worth it, it'd be worth it if only he could win the Games. If only Tavi could be the son Father had always wanted.
It was surely a miscalculation, when his knife buried itself in Halifax's neck. Without a doubt it was an accident as Tavi let him crumple to the ground, blood pooling around his feet and across the floor, and he couldn't do anything but watch before the ring was flooded with people.
(Tavi Nikoletos did not lose control.)
(Certainly, it was nothing more than a mistake.)