Games of Ambrosia {Book I}

1. The Legend of the Chosen Consul

[BEATRIX]

Golden sun rays warmed my exposed skin and gleamed over the Kingdom of Ambrosia, where sinuous streets were scattered with animated crowds and enlivened by agitated murmurs about the upcoming festivities. As the wind blew curls of ash blonde hair over my narrow shoulders, I drew in a deep breath of bliss before the storm. Tonight was going to be the celebration of the day teenagers from the six factions had unified into the honourable Chosen Consul-known as the Alliance Day- so many centuries ago, and the announcement of the Worthy.

The Worthy are the young newly-turned eighteen-year-olds who will be participating in the Games of Ambrosia, based on the birthdate written in the stars on this fateful night. In other words, as much as it would appear to be unlikely, I could be one of them.

I dreaded all this, it was terrifying how a nation rejoiced at the idea of the potential destruction of teenagers' lives for the sheer hunger for entertainment. Of course, the need for new leaders and the reward for winning some deadly games could turn out to be very motivational.

Sitting by the edge of the garden-roof of my house, I could see the spheric stadium where the Games were held and the Kingdom's different factions: our heavenly white and gold section, the Witches' dark and violet towers, the Faeries' enchanted forests, the Wolves' mountains and dark woods, the Sirens' mighty waterfalls, and the Vampires' tenebrous palaces. Each of us had our very own god that we worshipped, and our lives revolved around the tales we learned about them and the preparation for the Games. Ambrosia was truly beautiful, painted with the colours of the sunset, chased away by the rise of the moon. In my childhood, my mother used to recite Ambrosian legends about the forbidden romance between the two cosmic bodies:

The Moon and the Sun loved each other very much but were forbidden to be with each other because they were too different. The Moon was raised by the Night, meanwhile, the Sun grew up in Broad Daylight. The two worlds they each came from were too dissimilar for them to be united. So, they were cursed and prohibited from ever seeing each other. Despite everything, they would still break their promise and sneak off to reunite at every dusk and at every dawn.

Even though I loved that story, I saw the celestial scenario more like a chase and run, just like how the Games of Ambrosia would be if I ever were to be selected.

The loud, resonant metallic reverberations of the Celebration Bells clanged, causing me to inhale sharply. Wide awake, I started running back down the house through the stairs, my parents and my older brother Archer- who had escaped the malediction of this kind of event- were waiting for me.

***

After the silent chariot ride to the Central Place, our holy horses came to a halt. The convocation had reunited a great assembly, causing me to whimper and grip my brother's arm in panic. Archer looked at me with a worried frown, engulfed me in his strong arms, and kissed me on the top of my head. Our parents watched us, their faces livid and afraid. We stayed interlocked as he repetitively mumbled what must have been encouragements over the loud chatter.

You're going to be all right.

The Leader of the current Consul- the Witch Desmond Sylvester- stepped on the podium at the centre of the place, slowly rising up in the sky.

"Dearest Ambrosians, tonight is a very special night, as celebrated every year. Tonight, the Worthy will be announced as the stars shine in the night sky. As you are all aware, the Games of Ambrosia will first be preceded by the festivities of the Selection, the Numbering, the Gathering, and the Reading. Know that the Consul and I wish you fortune and wisdom throughout the festivities, and may the gods bless your beings..."

With that, Leader Sylvester looked through the telescope lens pointing to the North Star. When he was done reading the stars, he solemnly stepped away from it to finally speak.

"The Stars have spoken. The Worthy were birthed eighteen years ago, the day of..."

All at once, everything paused and our breaths hitched altogether.

"...February 19th!"

My whole body turned ice cold, my lip quivering. I immediately buried my head in Archer's chest, crying out in agony.

"No, no, no. I knew it, I knew it," I growled.

He seemed to have gone rigid too, shocked.

My brother whispered, eyes glistening with tears. "Stop, Bea. You're tearing me apart."

It was my parents' turns to embrace me. "Oh, Beatrix..."

"Win, you have to win, okay? Win, Beatrix. Do your best. We love you."

Somehow, my best friend and neighbour Rosie managed to find me and jumped into my arms.

"May the gods bless your being, Bea..."

Wiping away my teardrops and suppressing a sob with the back of my hand, I silently made my way to the stairs leading to the large podium constructed around the Leader's higher circular podium. About thirty more teenagers from all factions joined me, standing on the podium and facing the waves of crowds around us, not knowing what to expect of the near future.

As taught all our lives, we held each other's hands, side by side as a sign of unity. Nothing could ever be a bigger joke. The redheaded girl next to me gave me a weak smile before looking away. I looked back to where my family was, but I couldn't see any of them from this far up. Holding back my tears, I gazed up at the sky, closing my eyes as it slowly disappeared once the podium started to retreat to the undergrounds.

"Welcome to the Games that dictate our everyday lives..."