142nd – Alec Marino, District Four
…
Illyria has a secret: she's not actually supposed to be here. Six months ago, when Stander Academy chose its volunteers, they passed her over. They didn't even make her the reserve volunteer. Illyria was ready to accept her fate—join the Peacekeepers, come to terms with the fact that she'll never be a Victor. She could have lived with it, she thinks. Even if she had to watch that bitch Valeria Masters take the crown that should've been hers.
She was okay with that. It hurt, sure. She spent her whole childhood training for an honor that would never be bestowed upon her. It was okay.
Until Reaping Day. After the Reaped girl's name was called, there was a moment of quiet. The whole square was waiting in anticipation for Valeria Masters's hand to rise and her voice to shout.
The thing about the volunteering system is that it's honor based. Everyone agrees to let the chosen volunteer take the spot. If they didn't, it would be chaos. And if the chosen volunteer doesn't do their duty, every agrees to let it fall to the reserve volunteer.
But, honestly, Illyria would have hated watching Bellona Slater win even more than Valeria Masters.
That split second hesitation was all that Illyria needed. She put her hand in the air, and she volunteered. No one ever needed to know.
Yet, Illyria can't stop thinking about what happens next. It's down to the final two. She's spent almost three weeks wondering the halls of a massive aquarium, searching for victims. She's facing off with Chance Rovaeny's boyfriend, apparently. She wonders if Valeria Masters would have gotten this far, and she knows Bellona Slater wouldn't have.
As she and Alec clash under the light of the deep blue fishtanks surrounding the Cornucopia, she thinks about past rogue volunteers. Contrary to popular belief, it's not a big thing in Two. Maybe it is in Four and One, but they have more honor in District Two. Most trainees agree to abide by the system, because the system works.
She thinks of Lionel Romano, who rogue volunteered over a hundred years ago to prove his worth after accidentally killing a trainee during the mock Hunger Games. District Two never accepted him, refused to accept him, until his dying day. She thinks of Orestes MacAvoy, who was so sure of his abilities that he rogue volunteered two years early. Only two years later, he was killed in a rebel attack, and he is the only District Two Victor to have no memorials. She thinks of a thousand rogue volunteers who have come and gone, the endless parade of people who thought they had what it takes.
Alec's sword glances off of her shoulder. Illyria refuses to join her ranks, but what waits for her when she returns home?
Her family didn't come to say goodbye to her. Her friends did, but their disgust at her breaking tradition was palpable. What if she goes home and no one wants her? She can't spend the rest of her life shunned like Lionel Romano. When she dies, she wants the world to remember her.
It's a lose-lose situation. She dies, or everyone she knows shuns her. She should have just stayed home.
Her spear is knocked from her hands. Alec kicks her over, and Illyria hits the glass of the fishtank behind her with a resounding crash. She tries to get to her feet, but it's too late—Alec is on her, sword plunging into her chest.
Illyria screams, trying in vain to escape. She knows it's hopeless, knows the wound in her chest will kill in her seconds, but she has to try. She wonders if Valeria Masters would have died like this.
As her vision darkens, she stares up at the fish swimming across the ceiling. It's colorful, like the parades they have whenever District Two brings home a new Victor. Would they have had a parade for her? She wishes she knew. She wishes she had been the chosen volunteer, but then again, maybe there was a reason she wasn't.