𝓕𝓲𝓻𝓮𝓯𝓵𝔂 - (𝓕.𝓞𝓭𝓪𝓲𝓻)

05.

vol i
☼ chapter five ☼

Theia still couldn't find herself able to get much rest. Her mind couldn't help itself from running at a million miles an hour. Overthinking had always been an issue for her. The thought of facing the other tributes in training for the next three days made her uneasy.

She leaves her bed and gets into the shower. It was even more complicated than before, with the numerous unnecessary buttons confusing even her. An outfit had been left in front of the wardrobe: tight black trousers, a matching top with the number 3 embroidered onto the shoulders, and some leather shoes. Theia slips into the clothing, tying her hair up securely.

She wonders what her family and her friends are doing now. Were they okay? Had they watched the ceremony?

She's able to stomach more today, filling her plate with eggs, bacon and sausages. She's the first to awake, but the others join her soon after. The mood is far more serious this morning; not much conversation occurs.

"You both need to meet Ambrose at the elevator; he'll be taking you down," says Rafael.
"Try to take in as much as you can manage," Beetee adds. There's not much else left to say.

Ambrose, like always, was in a much chirpier disposition. Excited as ever for the events of the day. He made Theia and Evan promise to tell him everything when he sees them next.

When they reach the ground floor, the doors open into an enormous gymnasium filled with various weapons and obstacle courses. Most of the tributes had already arrived and were gathered in a tense circle. As the last few enter, the head trainer, Atala, steps up and explains the training schedule. Experts in each skill remain at the stations, with free movement permitted from area to area.

Theia observes the other tributes. Most look to be on the older side, like her, but there are a few that look to be far too young. She feels a great deal of sympathy for them. A small, thin boy with brown hair and large grey eyes catches her looking; he smiles sweetly at her, and Theia can't help but return the action. He had to be around twelve, much too innocent to face the brutality coming.

The careers head straight for the deadliest-looking weapons in the gym, handling them with arrogance and trying to intimidate. Theia sticks to Rafael's instructions, heading to the knot- tying station. The trainer is pleased to see someone so early on. She makes quick progress, picking up what is taught to her easily. She remains there for a while before moving on to starting fires and making shelters.

Looking upwards, she sees the game makers, seated in their elevated stands. Sometimes they were watching, taking notes; other times they were simply feasting on the banquet before them. Time seemed to move quickly with the tributes released for dinner.

She rides the elevator with Evan, who's quieter than usual, overwhelmed by training. They're greeted by their mentors, soon dividing off to discuss their day. Theia confirms to Rafael that she's following the plan, and he's pleased.
The two take to sparring in the sitting room, and she surprises Rafael with her ferocity; he hadn't expected it from such a small frame. The time she had spent fighting her brother had not gone to waste; she was able to take on someone much larger than her. Her mentor had been correct; she had an unrelenting will to fight and to survive. He only hoped that it would stay that way in the arena.

~

Theia didn't know how late it was when she heard a knock at her door. She opened it, not expecting Beetee to be standing there. He seemed unsure, adjusting his glasses, "You haven't been sleeping well, and I suspect you're much like me, unable to switch your brain off." She nods her head, her eyes landing on the stack of books in his hands. "No one wants to be alone with their thoughts. I figured it would be far better to keep you preoccupied with something useful."
She can feel herself smiling as he hands her the pile. She scans the titles: edible plants, species classifications, terrain types. Theia is extremely grateful. "Thank you, Beetee."
He smiles back, pleased, and asks, "How's your memory?"
Theia grins. "I've been told it's photographic."

~

The next two days pass, with Theia going from station to station. Some tributes make an effort to speak with her, and she tries her best to come across as timid and good-natured, psychologically convincing them that she's no danger. Their impression from the opening ceremony was, of course, misguided. She's watched closely by the careers, who observe her getting perfect scores on the edible tests, with the trainers praising her for getting the quickest times they've seen.

She often noticed a small shadow watching her. Theia had learned that the little boy with the big grey eyes was from District 12 and called Milo. After seeing him struggle with his knots, she took the time to sit with him and teach him patiently. He was quick, a good climber, and could camouflage well. She desperately hoped it would be enough.

In the evenings, she'd train, and the sitting room walls became scattered with suspicious-looking markings. Ambrose had complained about the damaged mahogany, which looked almost like knives had been thrown into it. Allegedly.
Beetee had sat with her too, excitedly conversing over traps and wiring techniques.

Theia had pulled Rafael aside after their last spar, "My private session, what do I do?"
"Courtesy of Blayse, the Capitol's citizens got quite the show. There's a lot of interest in you; they're anticipating a good score; it could work in your favour sponsor-wise," he contemplates their options, "Show them something they're not expecting." She knew what that meant.

District by district, they're called forward. The tributes for 1 and 2 cockily made their way into the room when they were called, confident in themselves and what they were about to show. As Evans name is announced, Theia wishes him good luck, which he thanks her for before apprehensively leaving for his demonstration. Fifteen minutes pass before she hears her own name.

She enters the gymnasium, the game makers seemingly bored. Her eyes catch the boxes on the side, and she moves towards them. Crouching, she opens one and grabs the rope inside, starting to tie. The lack of entertainment draws the eyes away from her and towards their banquet table.
Spotting the dummy used for knife practise, she drags it over.
The sound of her hoisting it up over a beam brings some attention back. Confused spectators stare at the trap she had created, the dummy dangling by its leg. She walks to the knife station and grabs a set.
Eyes widen as she takes her stance, every perfect throw hitting its exact target.
After ten bullseyes and an impaled dummy, she's bowing, "Theia Marsden, District 3." And walking straight out the exit, not staying to watch the astonished faces.

~

Evan and Theia are sitting on the sofa in the sitting room, joined by their mentors, stylists, and escort.
The TV comes on, with Caesar Flickerman grinning brightly. He animatedly introduces the show. "Isn't this exciting, ladies and gentlemen? I have the scores of the 72nd annual Hunger Games tributes!" Looking at the papers in his hands, he shuffles them for effect before looking straight down the camera and saying, "Let's begin, shall we?" He clears his throat.
"District 1, Jasper Tybalt, 8." The photo changes. "Pearl Yvain, 9," Caesar announces.
"District 2, Cassian Alder, 10." Rafael mentions that it's natural for the career tributes to be in this range. "Lucia Hayes, 8."

"Now for District 3!" The air feels tense. Evans face is displayed. "Evan Bowen, 6." His shoulders visibly deflate, and Beetee consoles him, claiming it's a good score. Theia turns to see herself on the screen. She feels Rafael grab her shoulder.

"Theia Marsden, wow, can you believe it? An 11!" She feels herself freeze, completely shocked.

Ambrose lets out a screech, delighted. The stylists are thrilled, and Beetee pats her on the back. Rafael turns to her and says, "Well, you're definitely a threat now kid."