TW: Mentions of physical and verbal abuse

"I will take what is mine with fire and blood."

Safira Altin, 18, District One Female

May 4, Year 78

District One Academy of Excellence

Safira Altin put forth her best smile as she entered the auditorium. This was a big day, the biggest day of her life, and not a hair could be out of place. She turned a lot of heads as she strode confidently to the front row and reveled in the attention.

Some of her classmates looked at her with desire. Others looked at her jealously. The latter brought her a sense of satisfaction. Let them be jealous; it meant that they knew she was the superior one.

Safira smoothed her skirt and frowned when she saw a boy sitting in the seat next to the aisle. There were a couple of other seats available in the front row, but that would require Safira to push past everyone to take her seat and do so again when she took the stage as the chosen volunteer for this year's Hunger Games. It was honestly easier for everyone if she could just have that seat. Safira put on her sweetest smile and tapped the boy on the shoulder. "Hi!" she said when he turned to look at her. "I'm so sorry, could I have that seat? I pushed myself too hard earlier. My leg is cramping up."

The boy looked at her for a moment like a deer caught in headlights. By her request or her carefully crafted appearance, Safira didn't know nor care. What mattered was that the boy nodded quickly. "Sure," he said as he vacated the seat. "It's yours."

"Thank you so much! You're a lifesaver, you know?"

The boy blushed and immediately pushed his way to one of the empty seats in the row, eliciting some grumbles from the other students. Safira, however, smoothed her skirt and took the seat that was rightfully hers. Once she was comfortable, she checked the clock next to the door. It read 3:25. It was almost time.

Safira's heart began to beat harder in anticipation when she saw three of District One's victors emerge from backstage and sit in the seats allocated for them. Brighton Heywood, Augustus Braun, and most importantly, her mentor, Leonidas Decimus. Leonidas had personally taken her under his wing several years ago. With his help, she rose to the top of her class. She was the best swordfighter in her year, and she could hit the target with a knife every time, but her greatest weapons were her words. Words could get you almost anything you wanted if you knew how to use them. The Capitol would love her, and the other tributes would fear her, and what words couldn't get you…

Well, that's what her blades were for.

Safira looked at the three victors on stage and found Leonidas's gaze. He smiled at her, but something was off. It didn't reach his eyes. He almost seemed upset about something. Safira felt a frown coming on, but she forced her face back to neutral, attentive. Whatever it was, it surely wasn't regarding her.

At 3:30, on the dot, the Dean of the DAE walked towards the podium that sat on stage, sporting a cane and a fancy new coat. Rumor had it that Bourbon Carlisle was the chosen volunteer himself long ago, until his leg was shattered beyond repair in an accident, and he was forced to give the honor to someone else. He found his calling elsewhere, but he was still bitter about the incident to this day.

Safira vowed that that wouldn't happen to her. She would have her moment in the sun. It was hers to take.

Dean Carlisle tapped the microphone a few times, then cleared his throat. His voice was raspy and hard to listen to, but Safira listened to them intently. After all they had the potential to be some of the most important words of her life.

"Now, I'm certain you all are ready to head home and start your weekend, so I will make this quick. The Selection, of course, is a long and arduous process. We are not just weighing lives, but the very pride and honor of District One, our home. These decisions were not made lightly, and many factors were taken into consideration."

"Stop talking and get on with it!" Safira wanted to shout. The anticipation was getting to be too much.

"That being said, as usual, I will announce the chosen volunteer, followed by the backups. If you are selected to volunteer, please take the stage. If you are selected as backup, please stand."

Backups. As if that was required. Even with the drop in attendance since the Quell, District One was still able to produce two volunteers every year. Not even those brutes in District Two could claim that.

The dean pulled out a cream-colored envelope and the entire auditorium seemed to hold its breath in anticipation. He carefully opened the envelope and pulled out a slip of paper. "The young lady who will be representing District One in the Seventy-Eighth Hunger Games shall be…" This was it. Safira's moment to shine, the start of her path to glory.

"Label Clark, with Safira Altin and Wish Bailey as backups."

What?

How? How could this have happened? She was the top of her class! She was all but destined for this, and some tramp was just going to waltz up and take it from her? As she watched Label walk onto the stage with a confident stride and a shaky smile, she felt a small fire begin to bloom within her.

It wasn't fair!

As she stood, not to take the stage, but to take the role of the understudy, she sincerely hoped that the heat in her face could be interpreted as a blush, and not the outrage it was.

She couldn't even hear the male volunteer being announced over the sound of her own thoughts. How? How?!

Safira had to fight to keep herself from storming out of the auditorium. The last thing she needed was to be seen as a sore loser. What she did need, however, was a chat with Leonidas.

Safira slammed the door shut as she re-entered her home. "What did I say about slamming the door?" her mother called from the living room.

Safira didn't even grace her with a response. All her mother cared about was the value. It was just a stupid door.

Leonidas's words echoed in her head, apologetic but firm. "I'm sorry, Safira," he had said. "I fought for you, I really did, but the dean has the final say in these things. He said you weren't ready."

Safira couldn't be made at Leonidas. The old victor was more of a father to her than her own sperm donor was, and even if it wasn't, it was hardly his fault. Someone paid off the dean. That was the only explanation. It wouldn't have been the first time the man had been bribed, but normally it was for grades or admission, not an entire volunteer slot.

And it had to happen this year.

Safira slammed her bookbag on the floor and stormed through the living room. Her mother didn't even look up from her book and glass of wine as she passed, but she did acknowledge Safira another way. "I heard you weren't chosen, dear."

The words were dripping with insincerity, and it only served to make Safira angrier. "I should have been," she snarled.

"Maybe this isn't such a bad thing," her mother replied, turning a page. "You can live a normal life now. Get married to a nice wealthy man, have some children of your own, and finally put this whole Hunger Games thing behind you."

Safira didn't dignify that suggestion with a response. Of course, her mother would be happy about this. She had never approved of Safira training up for the Games. She thought it was unbecoming of a lady, never mind the fact that ladies her age did it every year. Safira even wondered if her mother had something to do with this. It wouldn't be the first time that her mother threw her to the wolves in one way or another for a chance for more money to spend or luxury items to show off. It certainly wouldn't be the last either.

Knowing full well that an argument was pointless, Safira simply swept up the stairs into her room. It was then that it hit her. She wasn't going to get to volunteer. She wasn't going to have her moment in the sun. She was just going to be another pretty face in District One, forgotten.

Safira's eyes began to burn, and for a moment, she was in danger of crying, but then that fire inside her began to burn hotter.

"No," she thought. "No, I'm not going to let them do this."

Safira took a deep breath and quickly pulled herself together, wiping the tears away before they could spill.

Like it or not, she was going to volunteer on Reaping Day. She was going to go into the arena, she was going to win the Hunger Games and prove everyone who doubted her wrong. She was going to bring the glory back to District One, and she wasn't going to let Label, the Dean, or her parents get in the way. Her story wasn't meant to end here. In fact, it was just getting started.

"They stabbed me a hundred times and then acted like they were the ones bleeding."

Caden Asher, 18, District One Male

District One Academy of Excellence

May 4, Year 78

Caden Asher exited the auditorium, unable to keep the grin on his face. Tucked under his arm was a folder full of pamphlets for him to look at, lists of affairs to get in order before he shipped out in a couple of months.

He couldn't believe it. He did it. He actually did it.

Years of staying late at the DAE, years of taking hits and forcing himself to get back up, years of taking crap from his two older brothers, it all paid off. It finally paid off.

He was going to volunteer for the Hunger Games. He would bring home the victory for District One for the first time in eleven years. Finally, living proof that he was as good as Baron and Slade. No, he was even better than them. They were passed over for the volunteer slots when their respective times came, and here Caden was, getting ready to ship out.

He shoved past a couple of the scrawnier kids. "Watch it!" one of them shouted. Caden just ignored them. They were just kids who had no chance at the spot but were sent here anyway "just in case." Caden wanted to laugh at that concept. District One's volunteers haven't failed in generations. The worst they had was a couple of rogue volunteers. District Two couldn't even claim that anymore, not after two years ago.

Caden had no intention of chickening out. He had no intention of letting someone steal his spot. He and Label Clark were going to go into the arena and dominate, and he would be coming home with the glory.

He just hoped he could prove himself worthy of the honor.

"Caden! Wait up!"

Caden stopped and turned around. He smiled when he saw Amos make his way through the crowd of classmates and towards him. "Congratulations, man!" he said when he made it to Caden's side, clapping him on the back. "I knew you could do it!"

Caden smirked. "Was there ever any doubt?

The two started walking back towards the Asher home. Unlike Caden, Amos's own older brother would be home. He always was, and he was to be avoided. Once Slade and Baron moved out, home became a little more tolerable, and Amos began spending more time there. Caden was more than okay with that. Amos was the only person he could really be himself around. No need to be tough like Baron, no need to be cocky like Slade. He could just exist.

The walk home was about twenty minutes, but it went by relatively quickly, with Amos and Caden talking and joking the whole way home. Caden was careful not to let the mask slip completely, not yet, but it was nice to give it a rest for a bit, even if it wasn't all the way.

Caden knew it was going to be a rough afternoon the moment he entered his living room and he heard Baron speaking with his parents. He was hoping that his brother would still be at the Academy, but no such luck.

At least Slade was nowhere to be found. He rarely was anymore. Caden was more than okay with that. He was in a relatively good mood, and he wasn't going to let that be soured by Slade's bitterness and fondness for shoving. He only wished he could have been a fly on the wall when Slade found out Caden was chosen on that tiny general store television.

Caden liked to think he and Baron's relationship had improved over the years. When Baron wasn't selected for the volunteer slot (much to everyone's shock), rather than vanish from the training scene like Slade did, he took up a post at the Academy as a trainer. He was hard on Caden. He pushed him harder than he pushed anyone else. It was hard at first. Baron was not a pleasant person to be around after that rejection, but things eventually improved. Not by much, but improvement was improvement.

Baron looked up from the conversation he was having with their parents and looked towards Caden when he heard him and Amos enter the living room. "Congrats, little brother. Looks like my training paid off after all."

That meant a lot, coming from Baron.

He was the one who gave him the harsh yet warranted pointers during their sparring matches. "Pathetic! You need to work on your blocking or you'll just keep winding up on your ass!" He was the one who knew when to call him out, such as the day Caden wound up in the hospital after he punched above his weight and got his rear end kicked for it. "You're an idiot! You need to be more prepared to take on tougher opponents! Until then, don't pick fights you can't win!." And most of all, he knew when Caden deserved the rare praise. "There's still room for improvement, but it's a start."

Now, he was congratulating him. Caden wasn't sure if Baron was genuinely proud of him, or just wanted another moment in the sun. He wouldn't have been surprised if it was the latter. Everything was a competition, a play for attention. That's the environment in which Caden was raised, and he accepted long ago that that was never going to change. "You need to grow a thicker skin," his parents had said to him when he complained. "They're just being boys. Man up!" His parents didn't defend him even when Baron beat him black and blue when he was passed over for the volunteer spot, convinced that Caden had sabotaged him somehow. "He's just upset. Give him time."

Rather than think too much about it, Caden just smiled. "Thanks, Baron. I still can't believe it."

Baron chuckled. "Neither can I. This is big. Very big. District One might actually have a real shot at the crown this year."

"Maybe the Ashers can finally have some glory," Caden replied, not losing his cocky smile. Baron's smile wavered a bit at the subtle jab, but instead of firing back with a retort like he normally would, he simply shrugged.

"Perhaps we will," Baron said. "Then the dean can finally give me that damn promotion. Teaching a future victor everything he knows? That's one for the resume."

Caden's mother giggled at this while his father nodded. "I agree. It's about time that place recognizes your worth. I heard the dean was out taking bribes again."

Caden had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. The classic dean taking bribes excuse. That was all Baron and their parents could talk about day in and day out, about how the dean was bribed into giving the spot to someone else.

Amos must have noticed Caden's growing discomfort because he patted Caden's arm. "You want to go upstairs? We can look at those pamphlets and lists. Maybe I can help you with some of them."

Caden nodded. "Yeah, sure." He looked at his brother and parents and faked his best apologetic smile. "Sorry to bail on you all. I have super important things to do."

Baron could have had the spot. Slade could have had it too.

There was a reason they didn't. It's because they weren't good enough, plain and simple. Caden however, was. He proved it by being chosen, and he was going to keep proving it.

Caden Asher was on top of the pedestal now, and he wasn't going to let anyone forget it. He was prepared. He was worthy.

Caden was going to be the best Asher there ever was, and the whole world would know it.

Hopefully, the stupid line break decides to play nice this time. I decided to post early with the upcoming holidays! Let the introductions begin! Thank you to GeekyWritesSometimes for Safira, and ShadowMoose for Caden! These two were such a joy to write and they are going to be so much fun in the arena. One is manipulative and the other is cocky, but both have hidden depths that I'm looking forward to exploring!

Safira's faceclaim is Peyton List and Caden's faceclaim is Chandler Dalton, so go check that out!

Coming up next is District Two, where we'll get to meet Macha and Zhenya! I'll try to post that next Monday, but I can make no promises. Merry Christmas if you celebrate and Happy New Year!