━━･❪ 🌸 ❫ ･━━

Daphne's blood froze as she stared back at Azalea. Forget the punch to the gut, the wrecking ball. It was like she'd been blown off the face of the Earth.

She vaguely registered the outraged shriek that erupted from Esther's throat somewhere in the crowd. Bile rose up from Daphne's stomach, threatening to choke her. No, she couldn't vomit. Not here, when the eyes of every citizen of District Ten were upon her.

Azalea's face revealed nothing of her intentions as Daphne made her way up to the stage, the crowd clearing a path for her. Daphne suddenly became hyperconscious of her appearance; from the way she walked to the flecks of dust on her overalls.

As she stood on the stage, her head spun and her vision swam. The faces below blended together. All she could hear was the pounding of her own heart, her quickened breaths. A strange numbness overcame her mind. Her knees began to feel weak with stage fright.

Stage fright! Daphne was just elected by her worst enemy to fight to the death and she was concerned about stage fright.

Daphne stood there beside Azalea, hollow and emotionless, as if her brain were confused as to how she should be reacting. Azalea wouldn't meet her eyes as Daphne turned towards her. That's when Daphne made the single most impulsive decision of her life.

She rammed her fist across Azalea Espinoza's cheekbone with all the strength she could muster.

She would've probably gotten in a few more blows if Peacekeepers hadn't swarmed her in a heartbeat. Before she could blink, two of them had her arms in their steel grips, tight enough to make her fingertips begin to buzz. She felt the harsh, icy cold rim of a gun barrel press against the nape of her neck and instantly froze.

At first, Daphne thought they'd end her right here. Blow her head right off and force Azalea to pick someone else. Maybe it would be more painless this way, rather than whatever surely gruesome fate awaited her in the arena now.

The Peacekeepers apparently decided that she wasn't worth wasting a bullet on, for Daphne was still alive to hear Iskra attempt to bring the attention of the murmuring crowd back to the Reaping and force a brief introduction out of her. And Daphne was still alive to see Caelum choose Theron Dahir as the fourth and final tribute.

Caelum and Theron were acquaintances; not particularly close friends but still tight enough to acknowledge each other in the hallways at school. It was a smart choice on Caelum's part; Theron was charismatic and trustworthy. He would be a worthy ally in the Games.

Azalea, on the other hand, better sleep with one eye open.

Theron took his place beside Caelum, the boys flicking each other knowing glances that made Daphne think this was a preplanned arrangement. Upon Caelum's face was that mask of indifference that every tribute wore. The less emotion you show, the less leverage you give to your competitors.

Upon Theron's, however, was a wide, triumphant smile. He even waved and blew kisses to the crowd like he was going up to accept an award.

Alvarez and Iskra both stated a few more words, and soon the four tributes were forced to join hands and pretend it was something prestigious to represent District Ten in the Games. The Peacekeepers released Daphne and she stumbled forward, shaking out the soreness that had begun creeping into her arms. She contemplated hitting Azalea again, but she wasn't stupid. She didn't have a death wish quite yet.

Daphne forced a grim smile upon her face as her hand found Azalea's, clamping down a bit harder than necessary. Azalea's palm was clammy, slick with sweat as Daphne's was. Together, the four of them lifted their arms as if they'd already emerged victorious.

A chorus of futile claps arose from the crowd, though there was nothing of happiness in them. Everyone knew that the odds of one of the four walking out alive was slim. Daphne didn't blame them, after all, District Ten had only had seven victors in the one-hundred-fifty years the Games have been around.

Panem's anthem played, and against her better judgement Daphne's gaze shifted to Caelum. He was gaunt, but he was fast. Incredibly nimble. On top of that, he could pick off enemies from a distance with a bow and arrows, and since he worked as a butcher's apprentice, he also knew how to wield certain types of knives. She just hoped that she wouldn't be around to witness his death. She hoped she wouldn't have to be the one to kill him.

The anthem ended faster than Daphne anticipated. Has it always been this short? She barely had time to think about it before the Peacekeepers whisked Azalea, Caelum, Theron and her through the open doors of the Justice Building. The sounds of the crowd beginning to depart grew distant, then abruptly cut off as the doors were shut. Deafening silence was left in its wake, broken only by the harsh footsteps of the Peacekeepers' boots.

They were each herded into separate rooms, for the next hour would be all they had to say goodbye to loved ones. The Peacekeepers exited after shutting the door, leaving Daphne to a few moments of privacy. She surveyed the room, and as expected there were no windows or anything she could escape out of. Not that she would've tried, anyways. She wouldn't make it five feet without being gunned down on the spot.

Daphne had been in a room like this before. Five years ago, saying goodbye to Aedon. She'd been twelve, a sobbing mess as she clung to her brother, screaming and clawing at the Peacekeepers that had to pry her away. A lump of grief formed in her throat whenever she thought about it, but this time, she forced it down.

The room's luxury still woed her, though she supposed she'd have to start getting used to it. The floor was polished hardwood with a plush square of carpet in the center beneath a couch, table and chairs made of fine material.

It was an effort to force her feet to move towards the furniture. She pressed a shaky hand against the back of a chair, suddenly afraid that if she let go, she would collapse and never get up. Daphne wasn't sure how long she stood there, hanging on by a thread, but the next thing she knew the doors were thrust open and her parents rushed into the room.

A horrible sound tore from Esther's throat as she lunged for her daughter, wrapping Daphne in her warmth like she did when Daphne was little. When all there was to worry about were scrapes on her knees and the imagined monsters lurking under her bed.

Rourke's strong arms held them both. It was a true struggle not to break down and sob right then and there, but Daphne knew she had to keep it together. It would be a sign of weakness if she came out of this room and faced the cameras with red eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

She allowed a single teardrop to escape as she heard Esther's prayers, mumbling under her breath along with "not you, not you too."

Daphne didn't trust herself to speak and squeezed her eyes shut, letting herself savor her parents' embrace for the last time. This wasn't fair to them. Wasn't fair at all.

"Daphne, listen to me." Rourke said softly by her ear. "Chiwann. Your name is Chiwann."

Chiwann. It was her middle name, derived from the word "xīwàng" which meant "hope" in an old language that her ancestors used to speak before Panem outlawed all languages aside from the Common Tongue.

"As long as you have it, as long as you hope, you will succeed." Rourke whispered.

"Yes," Esther's hoarse voice sounded before Daphne could respond. Her mother reached up and unclasped her necklace. "This was your grandmother's. She gave it to me, and I am now giving it to you."

Rourke brushed Daphne's hair aside as Esther clipped it around her neck. The plum blossom pendant rested perfectly against her chest as Esther tucked it underneath her shirt.

"In our old language, the plum blossom was called méihuā. It symbolized courage and strength, as well as hope." Esther continued, gently pressing Daphne's palm against the pendant. "With this, your xīwàng will be strong, and you will come back to us, Daphne."

Daphne's vision blurred as her eyes stung. Esther and Rourke both had tears trailing down their faces. They could afford to cry; Daphne could not. She was suddenly glad that she had said goodbye to Barley before leaving the house.

The door creaked open, and she knew their time was up. It was too soon.

"I love you," She choked out, burying herself within her parents one last time. "I love you, thank you for everything, I love you, tell Barley I love him too..."

As the Peacekeeper ushered her parents out of the room, Daphne curled up on the couch and buried her face into her hands, allowing just a couple more tears to slip. A stifled sob escaped from her lips.

She would've stayed in that position forever, quietly fighting the grief, if she hadn't heard more footsteps entering the room. She snapped her head up, hastily wiping her face with her hands. She was surprised to see a tall, frail young woman standing before her, with forest green eyes rimmed with pain.

"Hello Daphne," Ara Caflisch said quietly. "I know you and I haven't talked much, but I just needed you to do something for me."

Daphne stared at her blankly. "I mean, I'm pretty sure I'm gonna be dead within the next week give or take, so I've got no promises here."

Ara sighed, rubbing a tired hand along her forehead. There was a scar there, just above her right eyebrow, thick and stark against her pale skin. Daphne had always wondered how she'd gotten it. Nobody knew much about Ara Caflisch. She was elusive and secretive, barely ever leaving her house.

"Look. I know you're not going to kill Caelum." Ara said. Daphne opened her mouth to snap at her, thinking she was about to say something about her feelings. After all, she wouldn't be surprised if the news had reached even Ara. Caelum himself had probably told her.

Ara continued before Daphne could argue. "I also know, that my brother is not going to kill you."

That shut Daphne up real quick.

"Can you promise me," Ara's voice caught, and Daphne noticed her chin start to wobble. "Promise me that you will try and protect him." Her voice rose in intensity, beginning to sound more like a beg than a request. "I can't lose my little brother. Please, Daphne. Protect him."

For a moment, Daphne saw herself reflected in those pleading green eyes. Ara was a sister, still in shock and struggling to process the fact that her brother would be gone soon, and most likely for good. Daphne had been in her place once, five years ago. Except, there had been nobody she could have gone to to beg for Aedon's protection.

She took Ara's hand. "I promise I will protect Caelum as best as I can. Rest assured he has an ally in the arena."

Ara's face twitched as she squeezed Daphne's hand in hers. "Thank you."

She left the room without another word, casting one last solemn glance at Daphne before disappearing through the doors. 

Lysa and Tobe appeared to Daphne next before she could think about the promise she'd made. It was strange; Tobe was the one with tears streaming down his face while Lysa had somehow managed to hold it together. Daphne had expected it to be the other way around, since Lysa had always been the open book and Tobe was the solid stone that kept them all grounded. Yet another reason why today was completely wrong.

Daphne had a couple more visits after that, mainly relatives and friends from school. The hour was up before she knew it, and she found herself soon in a car with Azalea, Caelum and Theron. None of them said a word in the short ride to the train station.

It was then that Daphne realized her knuckle was aching, and she had a clotted split from when she'd hit Azalea. She looked up and saw that an angry red welt had bloomed on Azalea's cheekbone, then felt a small flutter of satisfaction.

The station was swarming with cameras and reporters. Daphne tried to avoid as many as she could, but it was impossible. Photographers clicked away, the flashing lights beaming from all directions making her a bit disoriented.

Azalea looked like she wanted to shrink into a ball and hide away. Caelum kept his face cool and pleasant, like saying goodbye to his loved ones for the last time didn't bother him at all. Theron was all smiles and charms, shaking hands and making silly faces for the cameras.

Daphne noticed a television screen upon a wall of the station, broadcasting them boarding the train. She almost flinched at the sight of herself. She'd thought she was doing an alright job concealing her emotions, keeping her expression carefully under control. One glance at the screen told her that she was not nearly as slick as she'd thought. Her eyebrows were knitted and she had a grimace on her face, and it was obvious she'd let one too many tears slide.

The train was just as luxurious as the Justice Building. The tributes each had their own private rooms, completed with full dressers and a bathroom. The pure speed of the train amazed Daphne. It would only be a matter of hours before they reached the Capitol.

They had some time to themselves before they all had to meet with Iskra and Theia for dinner. As soon as Daphne entered her room, exhaustion nipping at her bones, she saw the wide, fluffed up bed and made a beeline for it. She ran a hand across the soft sheets, a huge upgrade from the rough fabrics she had at home, yet she found herself longing for those instead.

It wasn't until she curled up within the pillows did the full reality come crashing down. She was going to die. The Careers would pick them off one by one like nothing and duke it out amongst themselves at the end, as it was for so many Games before. Daphne would never set foot in District Ten again. Never see her parents' beautiful smiles. Never sit beneath that plum tree with Lysa and Tobe, watching her sheep graze. Never see Barley's tail wag again.

A hoarse, broken sob racked her body. A pain greater than anything she'd known had her in its claws. She clutched the plum blossom pendant as she cried, all the tears she held back pouring out a thousand times stronger. She cried and cried until she'd wrung her eyes dry, and even then she kept sobbing.

Chiwann. I am Daphne Chiwann Feng. Hope.

Esther and Rourke's words echoed in her head. She must hold onto that hope. She had Esther's necklace around her neck to remind her. If she had hope, Rourke said, she would succeed. She couldn't let that flame go out.

But as she lay there, broken and resigned, she could almost feel it sputter away and die.

━━･❪ 🌸 ❫ ･━━