Recalls of Surrender

The Divergence

Finn's sharp eyes flicked over my face, searching for any hint of recognition before darting around the room. The room, a dimly lit sanctuary of knowledge, was filled with shelves of books, trinkets, and artifacts. "How have I never heard of this place before?" he muttered in awe, his hands reaching out to touch the shelves and trinkets that lined the walls. "These are incredible. And valuable." His fingers traced the intricate designs on an antique dagger, then hesitantly picked up a rare crystal figurine. "Where did you acquire these? The council would be furious if they knew you had them."

"That's none of your concern," I snapped, pulling my beloved books closer to my chest. My fingers ran over the worn covers and creased spines, soothing them like a mother would calm her child. "These books," I said, emotionless, "are not just objects. They are my life, my memories, my solace. And could you please stop touching my things?" I couldn't bear to see my cherished possessions scattered over the floor. Determined, I took charge and carefully restored order to the chaotic pile Finn had recklessly torn apart. Each book found its rightful place, nestled neatly among its companions. And nothing would stand in my way of protecting them from harm.

Finnick's presence was a storm, stirring a whirlwind of emotions within her. The seething volcano's anger threatened to erupt as she confronted him. Sensing the brewing storm, he raised his hands in surrender, acknowledging the disturbance he had caused.

"It's as if you're on a mission to obliterate any semblance of joy I manage to grasp," I spat, my voice quivering with raw emotion as I locked eyes with Finnick. His gaze softened, a flicker of understanding crossing his face as he absorbed the pain and frustration etched onto mine. "I'm sorry, but we both know that's not possible. And, for the record, it wasn't me who disturbed you earlier. It was Isak."

I sighed exasperated, turning away from him and deliberately avoiding eye contact. But undeterred, Finnick continued to speak, his words flowing as he fought to maintain the conversation.

"I never pictured you as someone who delves into literature," he said in genuine surprise. "And your knowledge is astounding. You've completely shattered all my assumptions about your capabilities."

"My interests are my own, and I have no obligation to share them with anyone. Especially not with you," I retorted.

Finnick chuckled. "But your interests are riveting and would pique anyone's curiosity. Especially the council's."

My eyes widened in shock, a mix of fear and defiance. How dare he threaten them? I've kept it hidden for so long, my soul torn between the safety of conformity and the yearning for freedom from their society's strict traditions.

"And let me ask you this," Finnick pressed on, his voice filled with conviction. "How did you acquire such a treasure trove of knowledge and the ability to read? It seems like a relic from a bygone era. So why confine yourself to outdated traditions? They've never brought us anything truly remarkable. We can do better; we must do better."

Finnick and I sat on the rooftop, our legs dangling off the edge as we watched the stars twinkle above us. He spoke passionately about humanity's potential for greatness while I listened intently, nodding in agreement.

Sitting beside him, I couldn't help but think of all the fantastic inventions and creations humans had achieved throughout history. Finnick's words resonated deeply, causing me to question why a world filled with such brilliance could also hold so much darkness. I felt a stirring, a desire to challenge the status quo and embrace progress.

"I just don't understand," I said, my voice filled with wonder and frustration, turning to face him. "I don't see how a world that once created such extraordinary wonders could be so ominous. It's difficult to believe that everyone was a crazed savage."