Embelia spends the night walking as quietly as she can manage, head on a swivel for every little sound. The thought of who survived her poisoning rings through her head on a loop, circling adjacent to the hope that maybe their death is just taking a bit longer. But when the sky begins to lighten without the echo of another cannon, Embelia knows that the survivor is alive and well– or they will be.
I flew too close to the sun. They're going to find me, and they're going to make it hurt like I did for their allies. My allies. I'll be dead before I ever reach Korren.
Cassius had seemed suspicious of how long she'd taken to relieve herself. Venus had been quiet, more so than usual. Plaid didn't seem to notice anything was off, but he's a smart boy, with a strong constitution. It's possible he simply survived the poisoning rather than having seen through her ruse.
It's… probably not Emerald. For some reason, she ate two of the berries, and who knows how many more she had while Embelia was purging the two she'd eaten herself. Embelia probably won't ever know what Emerald's life was like back in One beyond what little she and Venus had told her, but she can't help but wonder what kind of upbringing she had to have developed such a strange palette. Regardless, she strikes Emerald from the list of potential survivors, knowing she'll now never come to understand the peculiar girl, and the peculiar girl will never be given the chance to return to the girl she loves.
Embelia falls to her knees and vomits into a bush. She coughs the disgusting taste out of her throat, tears stinging her eyes again as what little food she had in her is deposited into the twisting branches. The acidic bile stings her throat, still raw from her nails scratching at it. Somehow, it's so much worse than when she brought it on herself. She presses her fists into her eye sockets, gasping for breath and cursing herself when the tears won't stop.
The last thing the Capitol will want now is for her to show weakness, show regret for what she's done. She can't keep thinking of Emerald like a person, she's always known that would only make this harder. Emerald was a person, and when she gets out of here she can cry about it all she likes, but until then Emerald was an obstacle.
The ends have to justify the means. Until she reaches that end, she refuses to dwell any longer on said means.
Embelia slowly stands, wiping the tears from her cheeks and hoping the audience will believe she's just feeling some after effects of the purged poison. She takes a moment to regather her wits, grabbing her water bottle and taking slow sips. She stays where she is a moment, before a soft electronic chiming jolts her out of her anxious reverie.
She looks around, fearing the possibility of a muttation as she reaches for her spear. She hasn't seen or heard about any mutts thus far, but it'd been a quiet few days until a few hours ago, she wouldn't put it past the gamemakers to make things interesting. Only instead of a rabid mutt, a silver canister attached to a parachute floats down in front of her. Embelia bites her lip as a grin spreads across her face.
A gift. Someone clearly liked her performance. She rushes forward to grab it, glancing around one more time for certainty before she pries the canister open to find a loaf of bread and a small block of cheese nestled inside a soft muslin cloth. A note is nestled in beside them, which she plucks out to read.
Scrawled in messy handwriting is, "Don't make me watch you clean a bird again. - C"
Embelia chuckles, looking upwards and nodding her head in silent thanks. Without the careers, she could never hope to shoot down a bird anyway, especially not with a javelin. A sponsor gift, of food no less. To send into an arena with no food, this must have cost more money than Embelia has ever possessed at one time. Someone must be happy with her performance, enough to send her food when she doesn't really need it.
She's obviously doing something right.
She tears off a small piece of the bread and a smaller piece of cheese before tucking the rest of it into her pack. As she walks, she works slowly on her little feast, enjoying every indulgent bite and allowing her guard to drop the tiniest bit. Having carbs inside her soothes the twisting ache in her stomach, and she can't help but feel a bit giddy. She doesn't dare think about going home yet- there's still eight more people in this arena, and Korren is one of them. She hopes she finds him soon, soon enough to share some of this bread with him.
It's when she's chewing on the last piece of her small portion and the sky has gone from pink to blue that she hears leaves rustle. She freezes, food still in her mouth as she reaches for the spear again, holding it up in the way Plaid had taught her.
Damn it, if it's Plaid, she doesn't stand a chance. If it's any of the careers, for that matter. Sure, whoever survived her poisoning is likely still recovering but that doesn't rule out the Fours. Her stomach twists again with another threat of throw-up when she remembers she's only taken out half of the careers. The Fours are still together, too, no doubt.
She hastily swallows the bit of cheese in her mouth, slowly turning around in a circle to find the source of the sound. Instead of the hulking figures of either of the Fours, though, she's met with a small cowering figure. She almost doesn't recognise the girl who's got her back pressed back against a tree, but it's the very same girl, the one from Three, who had evaded the careers two days ago, the one Embelia had let go.
Only, those striking blue eyes that had given her away in that bush are gone. In their place are angry red lacerations, and a face covered in dried blood. Embelia lowers her spear, realising the girl can't see her– something, man or beast, has scratched her eyes out. How is she still alive? Who leaves a little girl like this without ending her?
For the first time in her life, Embelia curses, "Holy shit."
The girl flinches, realising she's been spotted and warily raising her fists. "Who- who is it?" She demands, voice trembling and breaking Embelia's heart. She's without weapons, without even sight, but she still stands strong. "I'm not scared!"
Embelia debates not answering, turning and leaving the girl. She's not a threat, she couldn't justify killing her either. But she doesn't want to do either. She spared this girl before, what will it have been for if she kills her now?
"Embelia," she says after a long beat of silence. "From Eleven."
"Eleven?" She echoes, a rattling breath escaping her lungs. "You're with the careers. You chased me."
"I'm not anymore," Embelia says, venturing closer. "I killed them."
"Are you going to kill me?" the girl asks, scrambling away when she hears Embelia's footsteps. Embelia can imagine what she's thinning, that she won't get lucky enough to be spared again.
"I don't think so," Embelia says. She's killed half of District Three already, she doesn't know if she can bear to take out the rest herself. They're both so young. What are the odds of that? And what does it make Embelia if she takes out another defenceless preteen? "No, I won't. I'm not going to kill you."
The girl doesn't relax, her breathing still laboured. Embelia doesn't blame her for not believing her.
"Wouldn't have done me much good to spare you the other day just to kill you now, would it?" She says, leaning closer to try to see the lacerations better. They're swollen red and angry, and not really scabbed over. It's a gnarly sight, and Embelia's stomach twists yet again. "What's your name?"
"Wilona," the girl breathes, stepping away from the tree warily, feeling each footstep with her toes before she takes it. "Is it really just you? Those cannons before were the careers?"
"I hope so. I've taken out at least half of them," Embelia nods, not taking any more steps toward Wilona and letting her move toward her instead, as though she's a frightened animal. "I bet you're hungry, right?"
Wilona ventures closer, stumbling a bit on her feet. "Yes," she admits. "I've had some fruit. I stole oranges from you. But it wasn't much."
Embelia can't help but smile in admiration, watching Wilona reach out a hand and doing the same to meet her. Wilona flinches when their hands touch, but quickly finds the confidence to venture forward and closer to her. Embelia squeezes her hand in what she hopes is a reassuring gesture. "I got sponsored some bread and cheese."
Wilona's eyebrows furrow together but she winces as it pulls at her wounds. She stops in her footsteps, a kill-able distance from Embelia.
(When did she allow herself to start thinking of anything as kill-able?)
"That must have cost a tonne," She says, trying to pull her hands away but being stopped by Embelia when the older girl spots more wounds on her arms.
Embelia frowns deeply, gently turning her arms over to see that her forearms are covered in similar lacerations. They're not deep, so it's not a wonder they didn't cause her to bleed out but they're just as angry and swollen as the ones on her face. They're infected; Embelia doesn't need to be a doctor to diagnose that much. "What happened to you?"
Wilona tugs her arms away, wrapping them around herself. "How did you kill the others?"
Embelia holds back on a sigh as she pulls her pack around to get the bread. She probably shouldn't be giving up any of such a precious gift. But she feels as though she owes it to her. Why does she feel indebted to the Three girl when it should reasonably be the other way around?
(The boy. It's because of the boy, Embelia knows it yet she won't admit it. She ended the life of Wilona's partner from home. Helping Wilona won't bring him back, she knows, but it's as close as she can get to decent in this dreadful place.)
"I'm not going to hurt you, Wilona. I promise. You haven't done anything wrong."
Wilona's head turns down, her freckled jaw clenching. Embelia can't imagine how painful the wounds are– she doesn't think she'd still be standing, let alone be so brave if she were the same. The girl has lost her sight and still she hasn't given up.
Embelia tears off a piece of bread, reaching forward to gently place it in Wilona's hands. "Eat this. And let me look at those wounds, please?"
Wilona marvels at the bread in her hand, lifting it to her nose to smell it. "It's still warm," she murmurs before taking a small bite. A smile spreads on her lips and she lifts her head as though looking at Embelia. "Can we sit down?"
Embelia nods, her movements halting when she realises Wilona can't even see it. "Yeah," she says. "Come on. I'm going to take your arm."
Wilona nods, but still flinches when Embelia takes a gentle hold of her elbow. She leads her through the bushes to a small clear space beneath a tree. She lowers them both to sit, and Wilona leans back against the trunk, working slowly on the bread in her hand. Embelia settles on her knees, gently drawing Wilona's free arm toward her to look at the angry lacerations. She feels a knot twist in her throat as she glances up at Wilona's face.
Can she feel it? Surely she has to be in unbearable pain. "Wilona, will you tell me what happened to you?" She broaches carefully.
Wilona pauses, tensing up until Embelia places a hand on her shoulder. "A mutt," she says softly, swallowing her bite thickly. "I thought it was gonna kill me."
Embelia's almost afraid to ask, "What was it?"
She thinks Wilona would look into the middle distance if she could. "A bird. A huge bird with huge claws and a horrible roar. Like a- an awful awful turkey."
Embelia wracks her brain for anything that fits that description, but nothing comes up. A huge bird that roars? And for it to mutilate poor Wilona and leave her alive? That's some sort of monster only the Capitol could come up with. It makes her realise there may be far bigger threats in this jungle than the careers. At least the careers will probably kill her outright, not leave her blind and vulnerable, destined to die of the infection.
And Wilona's infected. There's no doubting that, Embelia doesn't need to be a doctor to see that, but she would surely need to be one to bring Wilona back from this. She looks up at the girl, whose face is turned toward her.
"Is it bad?" She asks.
Embelia nods, clearing her throat awkwardly before rasping, "Yeah."
"Am I going to die?"
Embelia's silent for a moment. A moment too long. How can she lie to her? How can she tell her the truth? "Maybe," she lands on. But that's as much a lie as 'no' would have been. "What do you say we make a truce? I'll try to help you, I know a little about medicine."
"We don't have any medicine," Wilona says. "But… okay."
Embelia slowly sits herself down beside her, unable to take her eyes off the lacerations. "You never know," she says. "I got sponsored food. Maybe I'll get some medicine. Have you had anything to drink?"
"I've been drinking the rain," she says. "And there's water in fruit, right?"
Embelia finds she dislikes having to speak aloud rather than simply nod. "Yeah," she says. "You're pretty clever, you know."
Wilona smiles a bit, fiddling with the edge of her torn sleeve. She shrugs. "I'm not as smart as Byte."
Embelia's heart freezes. Byte. Somehow, she doesn't need to ask to know who Byte is. She opens her mouth once, twice, but the words won't come out. She needs to force them up, like she had the vomit last night. "Byte's from your district?"
Wilona nods, and Embelia feels the weight of her head fall against her shoulder. She does not move her. She cannot even know if Wilona is doing it on purpose, or if the exhaustion and the sudden promise of a protector has tired her out. "He died in the bloodbath. He was really brave, but I think he was scared too. Our mentor told us not to go into it. I don't know why he did."
Embelia wishes she knew as well. What did he hope to gain in charging at Emerald? Was he trying to take out a threat- to him or to Wilona? Was he so scared he forgot all logic and reason? Did he think Embelia would have let him go?
Embelia cannot say she'd blame him if he had. She would have thought the same. A girl from the outer districts defending a career is next to unheard of. Embelia looks up at the sky through the trees, suddenly struck with what the people at home must think of her. What her mother must think of her.
But she can't let herself think of that. She can't. Or she'll never be strong enough to make it home. "You sound like you need some sleep," she says softly to Wilona, absentmindedly fiddling with the leather bracelet on her wrist. "Get some rest. I'll keep watch."
"I'm not tired," Wilona mumbles, clearly already half asleep.
Embelia smiles, chuckling softly. "Okay. But I'll keep watch anyway."
It takes little more time for Wilona's breathing to slow, the girl probably exhausted from having to survive with no vision. The silence gives Embelia time to think yet again, to rotate the possibilities in her head until they've been thoroughly cooked like a spit pig. Who survived, when they'll come for her, how long Wilona has left, if she'll ever find Korren. She thinks she may be overcooking the thoughts, but there's little else she can do. When she's not allying herself with people that want to kill her, she doesn't have to waste her time being paranoid of everything. She's still paranoid, of course, but she somehow doesn't fear the possibility of Wilona slitting her throat with no warning.
Wilona trusts her enough to sleep on her shoulder. It's only fair she trusts her in return. It's late afternoon when Wilona stirs, a soft grunt leaving her when she realises she'd fallen asleep, and another when she presumably realises Embelia hasn't killed her.
"Hey," says Embelia, glancing down at her.
"Hi," Wilona mumbles, sitting upright slowly. "...You kept watch?"
"Mhm. You didn't miss anything. Do you feel any better?"
She doesn't look any better. The rest hasn't done her wounds any good, unsurprisingly. Embelia has had time to ruminate over what to do about it, but nothing has come to mind except something to soothe what she's sure is a constant stinging burn.
"A little," she says. "I can't really feel it anymore."
Not a good sign. Embelia clenches her jaw, glancing down at her arms.
"I'm going to see if I can find anything to help," she says. "Are you up to walking around?"
Wilona hesitates. "Will you hold my hand?" She whispers.
Embelia reaches to take it in response, squeezing it gently. "I will. And I won't let go."
It's slow going to move around with Wilona in tow. She trips over her own feet several times despite Embelia warning her of branches or ridges, but she eventually finds a rythym in following the older girl. Still, Embelia moves slowly ahead of her. She'd love to break the silence but she's never been any good at idle conversation. Wilona eventually takes that burden for her.
"Is the boy from your district still out there?" She asks.
Embelia's first instinct is defensiveness, to protect Korren from someone out to kill him. But that soon passes with the reality that Wilona isn't killing anyone, nor does she seem to want to. She's just curious.
"Yeah," she says. "I think so."
"He was really handsome," says Wilona just as Embelia spots a large aloe vera plant to their left.
Embelia laughs, glancing back at her little shadow with warming cheeks. She's ever more thankful that Wilona can't see it. "I mean… I guess so. I guess he still is."
"Unless he's been torn up like me." Wilona stumbles when Embelia slips her hand out of hers, face falling.
"It's okay," Embelia assures. "I've found a plant. I need both hands, but I'm not going far."
Wilona wrings her hands together where she stands in the underbrush, nodding. Embelia's heart twists– she'd promised not to let go, she knows. She only hopes Wilona trusts her.
"I think he'd still be pretty handsome even if he was torn up," says Embelia, hoping her voice will act similarly to a held hand. An assurance that she's still close by. She pulls the knife from her belt, crouching down to cut off a sizable leaf.
(Aloe vera doesn't belong in this climate either, but no matter. It's the very same plant she's used to, it'll do the very same job.)
She hears Wilona laugh a bit. "And Byte thought you were pretty."
Embelia freezes, white knuckling the hilt of the knife.
"Everyone really liked you both, I think. I liked you too, until I saw you with the careers. Then I hated you. Now I like you again."
"I'm happy to be back in your good books," Embelia says, forcing herself to continue severing the leaf from the plant. "Wouldn't wanna be on your bad side."
BOOM.
Embelia whips around, dropping the knife with the full expectation that she'll see Wilona collapsed, dead before she even hit the ground. But Wilona still stands there, a similar panic on her face. She holds her arms out, beginning to stumble toward where she'd last heard Embelia.
"E-Embelia?"
"I'm okay," Embelia assures her, standing up with the leaf in hand and reaching to take Wilona's hand into hers. "It wasn't me, I'm still here."
Wilona releases a slow breath, squeezing Embelia's hand. "Okay," she whispers. "I thought…"
"Me too," she assures, crouching to pick her knife back up. "But we're both alright. And I got the plant, so let's rest, okay? Come sit down. We'll be hidden enough here."
"Who was it?" Wilona asks, stepping closer to Embelia before moving to sit down.
"I don't know," she says, looking to the sky. The sun is setting. "I guess we'll find out soon enough."
The two of them take a seat beneath a tree, mostly hidden from the downpour when it begins to rain, and Embelia applies the aloe vera to Wilona's wounds. It does little to help, but she hopes it'll at least soothe some of the pain. Her heart shatters when Wilona tells her she still can't feel any of it.
She doesn't say much else. She's scared that if she speaks, she'll blurt out the truth to Wilona, tell her that she's going to die soon. Probably within days, if not hours.
"I think it's helping," says Wilona after a while, as though sensing her despair. Embelia knows it to be a lie. She chews hard on the inside of her cheek. She will not cry, she can't bear to when Wilona is being so much braver than she.
The anthem blaring through the arena does not sound much louder than the thrumming of her heart, but it far outweighs the drizzling rain. Embelia looks up, watching the emblem with wretched anticipation.
It shimmers away to reveal the smiling visage of Emerald.
There's no shock there. Embelia speaks as softly as she is able to Wilona, "The girl from One."
Wilona leans in to listen as the next image appears.
"The boy from One."
That leaves the Twos. Embelia feels like her heart is going to shatter her ribs if it beats much harder. Plaid's face flickers away and is replaced immediately by Cassius.
The heart that had been beating so strongly in Embelia's chest all of a sudden seems to stop. The blood freezes in her veins. Embelia wonders if she has actually just died, if that was her body giving up because fucking Venus is still out there in that jungle, angry and deadly, no doubt hunting her down at this very moment.
"What is it?" Wilona asks, feeling Embelia tense beside her.
"U-um- the boy from Two," Embelia says just as Cassius' face disappears to be replaced by the girl from Four. "The girl from Four."
"That's over half the careers," Wilona whispers with amazement.
The girl from Four– Celeste, Embelia thinks she may have been called –disappears and is followed only by Panem's emblem. Still no Korren.
"That's all for tonight," Embelia says, tongue feeling like cotton in her mouth.
Wilona waits for the anthem to end before she says more. "Were you with the Fours too?"
"No," says Embelia, watching the dwindling rain trickle down a nearby fern. "Something else must have happened."
Wilona turns her head upwards. "But most of them are gone. Except for the most dangerous ones."
Embelia can do nothing but chuckle. It isn't funny, really, but if she doesn't laugh, she'll probably cry. "I'll try to be more careful next time," she says, taking a gentle hold of Wilona's hand. She's growing paler with every passing hour.
Her mother would know what to do, Embelia thinks. She'd know just the right combination of herbs to put together to treat Wilona's wounds. She'd move Embelia aside and get to work on her with soothing words and just the right thing to make the sweet girl smile again. She plays with her leather bracelet again, wishing for a moment that her mother had given her a token instead. To be reminded of Bay has kept her on the ground, but she needs her mother to pull her out of it.
Embelia realises too late that the loss of her eyes has made Wilona a better listener. She notices Embelia is crying before she even pieces it together herself
"What's wrong?" Her little voice asks, her head shifting on her shoulder.
Embelia chokes on her words for a moment before she can rasp, "I miss my mom."
Then, Wilona wraps her arms around one of Embelia's, and holds her as close as she can manage as the older girl does all she can to sob quietly.
After Embelia cries herself out, Wilona whispers to her, "Do you have a favourite fruit?"
Embelia can't help but laugh, a choked and watery sound. "Um… clementines, I think."
Wilona smiles. "I've never had that. I like strawberries."
"Good choice," says Embelia, wiping the tears from her cheeks as though she were hiding something embarrassing and silly. "Maybe tomorrow we'll find some strawberries and clementines, and we can have a feast."
"I'd like that," says Wilona, voice taking on that sleepy drawl again. Embelia says no more, letting Wilona doze off against her arm and electing to take watch for her.
She rests her head on Wilona's, thrumming heart soothed by the other girl's presence. There is safety in one another, even if death looms on the horizon for them both.