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𝘠𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘵ʉ - 𝘴𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘦

ˋ°•*⁀➷

Thalia's chest tightened as the name rang out across the square: Finnian Graye.

For a moment, she was frozen, her mind reeling. That couldn't be right. His name had only been entered once, how could this happen? The world felt distant, a blur of murmurs and whispers growing louder around her.

The peacekeepers began to move toward Finnian, their stark white uniforms like ghosts in the crowd. Thalia's instincts screamed at her to run to him, to protect him, but her feet wouldn't move. She felt like she was sinking into the ground.

"Come now, darling," Lucian cooed, beckoning Finnian forward with a glittering hand. "Don't be shy!"

Finnian's face was pale as a peacekeeper nudged him forward. Slowly, he began his walk to the stage, each step unsteady. His foot dragged slightly, making his stumble more pronounced. Every movement was a painful reminder of why his name shouldn't have been in that bowl to begin with.

Thalia clenched her fists so tightly her nails bit into her palms. His name was only in there once. Once.

"No," she whispered, her voice trembling. "No, no, no..."

Thalia barely registered the girl next to her shifting uncomfortably. Marla, pale but still managing to look irritated, let out a quiet scoff.

"He'll never make it," Marla muttered under her breath, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

Thalia's head snapped toward her, eyes blazing. For a moment, she couldn't find the words, the anger burning too hot and fast.

"Don't," she hissed finally, her voice low and sharp. "Don't you dare."

Marla shrugged, glancing away as if she hadn't said anything at all.

But Thalia wasn't paying attention to her anymore. Her focus was back on Finnian, his every unsteady step up to the stage carving a deeper wound in her chest. Something inside her was screaming, she had to do something. Anything.

She barely noticed Lucian Flair smiling dramatically, as if savoring the tension. Finnian finally reached the stage, his head bowed, his hands shaking. Thalia felt like she couldn't breathe.

"And now," Lucian said, his voice full of practiced cheer, "for the girls."

The crowd held its breath. Thalia didn't even register the name until a murmur rippled through the gathered children.

"Marla," someone whispered near her.

Thalia turned her head just enough to see the other girl standing rigid, her face pale, her lips trembling. Karma. Marla looked as though she might faint, but she started to step forward anyway.

But Thalia wasn't looking at her for long. Her eyes went straight back to Finnian, standing alone on the stage, his head hanging low. Something inside her snapped. Her legs were no longer frozen, her mind finally caught up. She needed to get to her little brother.

"Finn!" She screamed, her voice raw.

The crowd turned to her in shock, but she didn't care. She pushed through the mass of children, running toward the stage with every ounce of strength she had.

Thalia's heart thundered in her chest as the peacekeepers quickly restrained her, their grip unyielding. The world around her blurred. The crowd, the stage, even Marla's sneer. All of it faded. 

The only thing she could see was Finnian, trembling as he stood on the stage, small and fragile under the weight of every eye in the square.

Her mind raced. He was just a child. How could they? How could this happen? She had to stop it. She had to do something.

"Finn!" She screamed again, her voice raw and desperate.

Finnian's lips quivered as his gaze locked onto hers. "Tallie," he sobbed, his voice barely carrying over the crowd. His legs wobbled slightly, and for a horrifying moment, Thalia thought he might collapse.

The peacekeepers shoved her harder, forcing her back, but she didn't care. "He can't go!" she shouted, her voice cracking. "He's just a boy! Please, he's just a boy!"

The crowd remained eerily silent, their faces a sea of pity and helplessness. No one moved to help. No one ever did.

Finnian was staring at her, his small frame trembling as tears streamed down his face. She saw the fear in his eyes, but worse than that, she saw his trust. He was looking at her like he always did, like she could somehow fix this.

The peacekeepers dragged her another step back, and something in her snapped.

"No!" She screamed, lunging against their hold with everything she had. "Let me go!" Her voice broke, but she didn't care. "I volunteer! I volunteer!"

Her words rang out across the square, slicing through the heavy silence like a blade. The peacekeepers froze, their grips loosening slightly in surprise. On the stage, Lucian Flair's glittering eyes widened with delight, his smile growing as he leaned forward slightly.

And then she said it again, louder this time, for everyone to hear. "I volunteer as tribute!"

The square went utterly silent. Even the peacekeepers paused, their grips loosening slightly as the shock of her words registered.

Lucian Flair's eyes lit up with delighted surprise. "Oh, my, my!" He said, clasping his glitter-covered hands together. "A volunteer! How wonderfully dramatic!"

Thalia didn't wait for approval. She broke free from the peacekeepers and stumbled onto the stage, her legs barely holding her up. She ran straight to Finnian, pulling him into the tightest hug she could manage.

"It's okay," she whispered into his ear. "You're going to be okay."

"Tallie, no," Finnian sobbed, clutching her as if he'd never let go.

Lucian cleared his throat loudly, stepping forward to reclaim the spotlight. "Such a touching display!" He announced, gesturing grandly to the cameras. "Tell us, brave girl, what is your name?"

Thalia turned her tear-streaked face toward him, her jaw tight. "Thalia Graye," she said, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her.

"Thalia Graye," Lucian repeated, savoring the name. "Our first volunteer in District 10 in... well, longer than I can remember! What a story this will be!"

The crowd murmured again, the Capitol cameras zooming in to capture every angle of the moment. Capturing every tear on Finnian's face, every tremble in Thalia's hands.

Lucian's eyes flickered between Thalia and Finnian, a delighted smirk playing on his lips. He stepped closer to Thalia, tilting his head as he studied her face, his sharp gaze like that of a jeweler inspecting a flawed gem.

"Ah!" He exclaimed suddenly, his voice dripping with theatrical glee. "I assume this is your brother?" He gestured grandly toward Finnian, who clung to Thalia like a lifeline. "How utterly tragic! A sibling bond! Oh, the Capitol will eat this up."

She released Finnian reluctantly, her hands trembling as she turned to face the crowd. Finnian reached for her again, his lips trembling.

"It's okay," she whispered quickly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'm right here."

As she stood beside Finnian on the stage, Lucian took his place at the microphone again, his voice ringing out across the square.

"And so, we have our tributes for District 10!" he announced, gesturing dramatically to Thalia and Finnian. "A sister and a brother! Thalia and Finnian Graye!"

She looked out over the crowd, her heart pounding in her chest. The people of District 10 were silent, their expressions a mix of shock and resignation.

And then, as if compelled by something deep within her, thoughts racing back to the stories her father used to tell. Tales of their ancestors, their resilience, their rituals. 

Slowly, deliberately, she raised her hand, palm open, and pressed it to her chest just above her heart. Then, she extended it outward toward the crowd, her fingers splayed wide like the rays of the sun.

It was a gesture of unity, respect, and remembrance, one her father had said their tribe used to honor those who were brave enough to fight for their family and their people. Her hand trembled slightly as she held it out, unsure if anyone would recognize it, if anyone would care.

For a moment, there was silence. Then, one by one, hands in the crowd began to rise. They mirrored her gesture, palm to heart, then outstretched toward them. It spread slowly at first, like the ripple of a wave, until nearly every person in the square was saluting them in this ancient way.

Thalia's throat tightened, her breath hitching as the people of District 10 finally acknowledged her. She had always felt like an outsider, but in this moment, she saw acceptance in their eyes.

 For the first time, she felt a flicker of strength. They saw her. They respected her. And no matter what awaited her and Finnian, she would carry this moment with her.

ˋ°•*⁀➷

Stupid. That's the only word that kept repeating in her mind.

The Peacekeepers had led them off of the stage, straight to the justice building and separated into different rooms. 'A time for goodbye's' they had said. 

But alone in that room, Thalia's thoughts were racing. It was all real now. She would partake in the 73rd Hunger Games. 

She wasn't a fighter, especially not a killer. What had she done? She had been so caught up in the moment, her instincts driving her forward, knowing she needed to protect Finnian. But she wasn't even capable of protecting herself.

Thalia wasn't notably strong, sure, she knew how to wield a weapon, but that ability was only for slaughtering an animal, not a person.

And yet, that was what would be expected of her now. To fight. To kill. To survive.

Her hands rested on her lap, shaking slightly as she stared at the worn floorboards beneath her feet. In the end, there would only be one victor. That was the way of the Games. Everyone knew it. Everyone had seen it play out year after year. Blood and death until a lone tribute stood victorious.

Her stomach churned at the thought. The Capitol would expect her to be just another pawn in their twisted game, clawing her way to the top at the expense of everyone else. But Thalia couldn't imagine taking a life. She had no illusions about her chances. She wasn't strong enough, fast enough, or ruthless enough to come out of this alive.

But Finnian...

Her chest tightened as her brother's tear-streaked face flashed in her mind. Finnian, who stumbled when he walked, whose hands shook when he was nervous, who clung to her like she was the only thing keeping him grounded. He didn't belong in the arena. He didn't belong in the Capitol's spectacle of violence.

It didn't matter if she wasn't a fighter. It didn't matter if she was scared. It didn't matter if she had no chance of winning.

She would make sure he did.

Thalia clenched her fists, her nails biting into her palms again. Finnian was going to live. She didn't know how, didn't have a plan yet, but it didn't matter. She would ensure he came home, no matter what it cost her.

She was part of the game now.

Every single move, every single word she spoke from this moment on would be watched, analyzed, and twisted by the Capitol. They would define her by it. Thalia had seen it every year before. A trembling child who cried, who begged for mercy, was quickly written off as weak. Forgotten before their blood even dried.

It was a game. A cruel, merciless game that demanded more than strength or skill. It required acting.

Her head needed to stay high. Even if her knees wanted to buckle, even if every fiber of her being wanted to curl under a rock and never come out, she had to stand tall. They couldn't see her fear, couldn't see her doubt. That was how she'd survive—not for herself, but for Finnian.

Finnian.

Her throat tightened at the thought of him, standing so small and fragile beside her on that stage. His name hadn't even been supposed to be in that bowl. Just once. One measly slip of paper, and it had been pulled.

Fate had a way of twisting things, of playing with lives as if they were mere pieces on a chessboard. It didn't care about the cost, the price of the lives it ruined in its unrelenting march forward. 

It was cruel in its indifference, taking what it wanted without hesitation, without remorse. And in that moment, Thalia understood just how little control they had over it. How powerless they were against its whims.

And yet here she was, standing with him, not because she'd been called, not because she was expected, but because she had chosen to.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her jaw tight with the weight of it all. Marla's name. Out of all people. Marla. The girl who'd scoffed as Finnian stumbled to the stage, who had sneered and muttered, "He'll never make it." Someone probably more deserving to be called out, someone who wouldn't have hesitated to step over another to save herself.

And Thalia had volunteered for her.

The irony wasn't lost on her. But it didn't matter. It never had. Finnian was what mattered, and for him, Thalia would play the Capitol's game. Whatever it took.

ˋ°•*⁀➷

Thalia wasn't sure how long she had been alone in that room. It felt like hours, the silence stretching endlessly around her, but she was certain it had only been minutes. The seconds ticked by with agonizing slowness, her thoughts spiraling as she waited.

She assumed her mother had gone to Finnian first. Of course, she had. He was the youngest, the most fragile. He needed her more.

The quiet creak of the door broke through her restless thoughts, and Thalia's head shot up. Her mother stepped into the room, her face pale and streaked with tears. Her usually steady demeanor was gone, replaced by something raw, something broken.

Thalia didn't hesitate. She pushed herself up from the chair, her legs unsteady but moving, and crossed the room in quick strides. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around her mother, holding her tightly.

Her mother clung to her just as fiercely, her hands trembling against Thalia's back. For a moment, there was nothing but the quiet sound of her mother's muffled sobs and Thalia's own shaky breaths.

"I'm so sorry, my sweet girl," her mother whispered, her voice cracking. "I should've... I should've done something."

Thalia shook her head, pulling back just enough to look her mother in the eye. "It's not your fault," she said firmly, even as her throat tightened. "This isn't your fault."

Her mother's lips quivered as she cupped Thalia's face, her fingers brushing the smudged paint still clinging to her skin. "You're so strong," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "So strong, just like your father always said."

The words were meant to comfort, but they only made the knot in Thalia's chest tighten further. She wasn't strong. Not like her father, not like the ancestors he always spoke of. But for Finnian, she'd have to be.

Just by looking at her mother, she could see those walls she had tried so very hard to keep up had fallen. Who could blame her? Both her children were being sent to the slaughterhouse, only one, or neither returning home.

The sight hurt Thalia more than anything else, her mother who tried her very hardest to act strong, who cried herself to sleep every night after acting as if she was okay every single day, was broken.

Thalia swallowed hard, forcing herself to stay composed, though her chest felt like it was caving in. She had to be strong, for her mother, for Finnian.

She placed her hands gently over her mother's trembling ones, still resting on her face. "Mama," she whispered, her voice soft but steady. "I'll make sure he comes home. I promise."

Her mother's breath hitched, and she shook her head, her tears falling harder. "You shouldn't have to make promises like that," she said, her voice raw with anguish. "Not at your age. Not for this."

Thalia didn't respond. She couldn't. Because what could she say? That it wasn't fair? That this whole system was a nightmare? They both already knew that. Instead, she pulled her mother into another embrace, holding on as if the strength of her arms alone could piece her mother back together.

"You're both all I have left," her mother choked out, her voice muffled against Thalia's shoulder. "I don't know what I'll do without you."

Thalia squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself not to cry. "You'll have Finnian," she said softly, though the words felt like sharp edges in her throat. "He'll come home, Mama. I'll make sure of it."

Her mother pulled back slightly, her tear-streaked face searching Thalia's. "And what about you?"

Thalia hesitated, her heart pounding. "I'll do what I have to," she said finally. "For him."

Her mother's lips quivered, but she nodded, her fingers fumbling as she reached into the pocket of her dress. She pulled out a small pendant on a worn leather cord.

"Your father gave this to me," she said, her voice trembling. "The day we met. He said it would always remind me of strength... of love." She pressed it into Thalia's hands. "I want you to have it now."

Thalia stared at the pendant for a long moment before slipping it over her head. The leather was warm from her mother's touch, the pendant cool against her chest.

"I'll keep it safe," she whispered, her voice breaking.

Her mother's face crumpled as more tears spilled, her hands shaking as she held onto Thalia like she was the only thing keeping her from falling apart. "I can't let you go, not like this," she choked out, her voice thick with grief. She squeezed Thalia's shoulders, as if trying to hold her together, to keep her safe, but it wasn't possible.

Thalia could feel her mother's desperation, the raw, unfiltered fear of knowing she might never see her again. Her heart twisted in agony. The pain in her mother's eyes was almost too much to bear.

Before Thalia could say another word, the door creaked open, and the harsh, emotionless presence of a Peacekeeper filled the doorway. His face was unreadable, but the authority in his stance left no room for argument.

"Time's up," he growled, his voice like a death sentence.

Her mother's head jerked up at the sound, her hands tightening around Thalia, trying to keep her close. "Please, no! Not my baby! Not her!" She cried, her voice breaking, her body trembling as she fought against the grip of the Peacekeeper.

But they were too strong. The Peacekeeper grabbed her mother's arms, pulling her away from Thalia with an indifference that sent a shockwave through her chest. Her mother reached out desperately, her sobs echoing in the silence, but it was futile.

"I love you!" She cried, her voice raw and broken, barely audible in the chaos.

"I love you too," Thalia said, her words choked in her throat. But she couldn't hold back the tears. She wanted to scream, to fight, but she was frozen.

Her mother's face was the last thing she saw before the door slammed shut, the sound of it reverberating through her chest. It felt like a final goodbye, one she didn't want to accept.

And then it was over.

The door closed behind her and all that was left was silence. The last time she would see her mother again. 

Thalia stood frozen, staring at the door as if willing it to open again. But it didn't. The room felt colder now, emptier, the silence pressing down on her like a weight she couldn't lift.

Her fingers brushed against the pendant resting against her chest. She clutched it tightly, the edges digging into her palm, a faint reminder that this wasn't a nightmare she could wake up from. Her mother was gone, and soon she would be too.

She sank back onto the hard wooden bench, her legs trembling beneath her. She wasn't sure if she wanted to cry or scream. Maybe both. But no tears came, only the suffocating ache in her chest and the sickening realization of what lay ahead.

The door creaked open, Thalia held her breath, thinking it to be her mother. But, a Peacekeeper stepped inside. "It's time," he said curtly, his voice devoid of emotion.

Thalia swallowed hard, her legs unsteady as she stood. Her hand instinctively went to her pendant again, clutching it for a fleeting moment of courage. Without a word, she followed the Peacekeeper out into the dimly lit hallway.

Finnian was waiting there, flanked by two more Peacekeepers. His tear-streaked face lit up the moment he saw her, but the fear in his eyes was unmistakable.

"Tallie," he whispered, his voice trembling as she reached for his hand.

"I'm here," she murmured, squeezing his fingers tightly. "I'm right here."

The Peacekeepers wasted no time, ushering them down the corridor and out into the open. A sleek black vehicle awaited them, its sharp edges and glinting surface starkly out of place against the worn streets of District 10.

Lucian Flair stood beside it, grinning widely as if this were the most exciting day of his life. "Ah, my shining stars!" He exclaimed, spreading his arms dramatically. "Shall we?"

They were hurried into the vehicle, Thalia and Finnian seated on either side of Lucian. He immediately launched into an enthusiastic monologue as the vehicle began to move, his hands gesturing animatedly with every word.

"Oh, you're going to love the Capitol," he gushed, his voice practically vibrating with excitement. "The food! The fashion! The luxuries beyond your wildest dreams! It's an experience like no other. Truly, you're the lucky ones to be chosen!"

Thalia barely registered his words. Her gaze was fixed out the window, watching the familiar streets of District 10 blur past. The cracked cobblestones, the weathered storefronts, the fields stretching endlessly into the horizon, each one felt like a goodbye she wasn't ready for.

This was her home. The place where she'd grown up, where she'd run barefoot through the fields, where she'd laughed with Finnian under the wide-open sky. And now, she was leaving it behind. Forever.

She caught glimpses of people standing on the streets, their faces solemn, their eyes heavy with grief. Some raised their hands in the silent gesture of respect that she had done on the stage earlier.

Her throat tightened, and she forced herself to look away, unable to bear the sight of the farewell she hadn't earned.

Lucian's voice droned on, oblivious to the weight of the moment. But Thalia's mind was elsewhere, lost in the fleeting images of a life she'd never get back.

She wasn't sure if she'd ever see these streets again. But deep down, she knew the truth. She wouldn't.

The car rolled to a stop, its engine humming softly before falling silent. Thalia blinked, her focus shifting from the passing scenery to the crowd gathered near the train station. Dozens of faces pressed close, the people of District 10 forming a sea of worn expressions and tear-streaked cheeks.

The Peacekeepers wasted no time. Gloved hands clamped down on Thalia's arm, pulling her roughly from the car. She stumbled slightly but found her footing, her fingers instinctively searching for Finnian's.

The crowd surged forward, a final goodbye from the people who had watched her grow up, who had whispered stories of survival and hope to one another during darker days. Some wept openly, knowing another two children were being sent to the abattoir.

But there was no time to stop, no time to linger. The Peacekeepers' grip tightened, and they were steered toward the gleaming train that stood in sharp contrast to the dusty station.

Finnian was crying again, his small frame trembling beside her. She wanted to tell him it would be okay, that she'd protect him, but the words wouldn't come. Her throat was too tight, her chest too heavy.

The train doors loomed ahead, the threshold of a new life, one filled with luxuries she didn't want and horrors she couldn't imagine.

The Peacekeepers didn't slow, dragging them forward with unyielding force.

Thalia's gaze flicked back to the crowd one last time, to the faces she would never see again, to the life she was leaving behind.

And as the train doors closed behind her, she realized that this wasn't a new beginning. It was the end of everything she had ever known.

ˋ°•*⁀➷