Her Victory, Their Life| F. Odair

4. Training

The next day bright and early they reported to the training center. A lady stood in the center as all the tributes watched her, "In two weeks twenty-three of you will be dead. One of you will be alive. Who that is depends on how well you pay attention over the next four days. Particularly to what I'm about to say. First, No fighting with the other Tributes. You'll have plenty of time for that in the arena. There are four compulsory exercises, the rest will be individual training. My advice is; Don't ignore survival skills. Everybody wants to grab a sword but most of you will die from natural causes. 10% from infection. 20% from dehydration. Exposure can kill as easily as a knife."

Emory first moved to the plant station. She watched as a girl from District 7 played the matching game, she played it maybe 4 times and Emory memorized each plant by its name and its likeliness to kill you. One of the District 2 boys came up to her with a thing of arrows on his back. He placed it down, next to his leg.

"So darling, I've seen the things you can do—" he kept talking to her as Emory smirked. She wanted to see if she could sneak past him. She grabbed three arrows and placed them on the ground behind the plant station before going back and grabbing three more. She kept doing this until all the arrows were gone.

"Well, why don't you show me what you can do?" The district 7 girl smirked, pulling him closer. He smirked back and grabbed his bow, reaching down for an arrow to find the bag empty.

"What the hell?" He asked looking around, but Emory was already long gone. She had run to the blade area with Swords, throwing knives, handheld knives, tridents, and other long and sharp objects. She grabbed a couple throwing knives and threw them at the careers, nicking one of them in the neck.

"WHO THREW THAT! I SWEAR TO GOD WHOEVER THREW THAT IS DEAD!"

At the end of the third day, after training, Emory was wandering the tribute center. "Well, well, well, look who it is, Miss Emory Falkum." She immediately smiled, looking over at the voice, "If it isn't Mr. Finnick Odair."

He chuckled, "how's training going?"

She sighed, "Not great, I haven't been doing much, just trying to learn all I can before I go in." His eyes narrowed at her.

"No, you know stuff, you just don't want to say, want to keep it your secret," he smiled at her, raising his hands, "don't worry I won't say anything. If I could bet, all of it would be on you."

She looked at him confused, "what about your tributes?"

He scoffed, "they're something alright, but you– you're what they're looking for. Me, I was lust, people wanted me because I was a hot young boy. You- you're a sweet young girl, underestimated. You could do so much damage."

Emory shook her head, "I'm smart I'm not a fighter, I'm not a career–"

"Doesn't matter. I believe in you and when you win, come to me," he told her with a serious look. "Winning– it isn't all what you think it is. I can't say anymore, but if you win I will."

She smiled at him, "Well, I hope to make it to that conversation."

Finnick smiled back, "I know you will. I'll catch you later, sunshine."

Emory laughed at him, "Oh, because- because of the lights, real clever, fish boy." He laughed as he walked away, and she walked towards the elevator.

The next day was the forced assessment of a jungle gym. You had to get across a monkey bar type thing. When it was Emory's turn, she let herself get most of the way across before purposely fumbling and falling on the mat below her.

The fifth day was knife throwing. She didn't know if she was any good. She had only done it a few times with her sister. She grabbed 5 knives like she was told. Her first one missed the target completely, the second at least getting on there. The people laughed at her, and she got frustrated. She threw the third without looking, hitting it straight in the head. She gasped and looked down. She threw the other two quickly, hitting both in the arms.

Soon Coran had joined the careers in training and Emory stayed hidden. People rarely ever knew where she was. That's what she was good at blending in, not being seen unless she wanted to be.

They sat at the table for dinner and ate in silence until Porter spoke up, "Tomorrow. They'll bring you in one by one. they'll evaluate you. This is important because high ratings will mean Sponsors. This is the time to show them everything."

"Coran, make sure to grab a sword, maybe an axe, Emory grab some knives–"

Emory tuned out everything else they both said, maybe it would be better if she didn't show her skills at all. What if no one knew anything about what she could– or if she could do anything until the arena.

Less sponsors but meaning that people will think she's easy.

~

She sat in the waiting room as they called the tributes starting with District 1.

"Emporia Falkum, District 5"

She took a deep breath before she got up and walked to the door to the training center that was mostly cleaned out for the individual assessments.

None of the judges were looking at her. "Emporia Falkum, District 5!" She announced herself. Still, no one looked except a few people in the corner. She glared at them and got frustrated.

She grabbed a throwing knife and spun it in her hand, feeling the way the metal brushed against her skin. She looked at the dummy in front of her and threw the knife directly at the head before disappearing behind a stand.

"Where'd she go?" The game maker asked, looking around for the young girl. "Falkum!" He called out and she showed herself.

She grabbed another knife and hit the arm of the dummy before getting another knife and throwing it at the leg. They gestured for her to leave, and she did, walking out the door for another tribute to go in.

"So, how'd you do?" Finnick asked as she came out and she looked scared, she felt scared. For the first time since she got there, she felt genuinely terrified.

"Horrible," she lowered her voice, "I'm gonna die. No one likes me and I'm going to die."

"You're not going to die," Finnick assured her. "Now go join your mentors, keep your hopes up, you don't know what's going to go down in the arena, sunshine."

She gave him a small smile before joining her mentors, "how did it go?" Evan asked her and she bit her lip, giving them a shrug. They looked at each other, giving her sympathetic looks.

~

They went back to the apartment and sat on the couch as they waited for their scores. "Turn it on!" Falle yelled excitedly. "They're out!"

They turned on the screen and Caesar Flickerman's face popped up, "As you know the Tributes are rated on a scale of one to twelve after three days of careful evaluation. The game keepers would like to evaluate.... From District 1, Dream score of 9... District 3 Holly, score of 10..." He seemed to drone on as he named the districts, keeping everyone on edge. "District 5," Evan grabbed Porter's hand and Emory's. "Coran Hermin, score of 11." Everyone gasped and screamed in excitement.

Coran looked impressed with himself. Evan patted him on the back as Falle hugged him. "Oh shush, shush!" Falle tells them as Emory's face comes on screen.

"Emporia Fulkman, score of 4," he announced, and everyone's faces dropped. Emory looked ready to cry. Sure, it was her plan, she didn't want a high score, but– it still hurt. From everyone else's point of view, there was no way she was getting the chance to go home.