The First Redemption Games (1-5) & The Writer Games | 6 - 7

Finals: Drako Storm

1st Redemption Games-Finals

Drako Ravenstar-Storm: Capitol

This place again. The desert. This had probably been my favorite arena back when I was clueless, when I thought of the Games as entertainment. After all, what was more entertaining then watching six heart-broken finalists dying in a desert, writing letters to their loved ones?

Anything. Anything would have been better than this, but I didn't have a choice. I was here now, and that was that. Alone, seperated from my allies due to a creation of the Capitol. Trapped in a cave, sand piling at the entrance, very likely going to die. All because I'd stupidly volunteered for the 3rd Writer Games.

Slowly, I pulled paper and a quill out of my bag, writing letters to everyone who mattered. Everyone who had touched my life, and changed me. People who had made me better.

'Sprink,

You have always been my soft side, my restraint, the one to calm me down. If it weren't for you, who knows what kind of rash decision I'd have made. One thing is for sure, I wouldn't be here right now.

I am so proud of you for surviving these cruel games. I always knew you could do it. And even though you're going to be entering a game where everyone is a victor, I know you can do it again. After all, you're a Storm. It's in your blood.

If there's one piece of advice I can give you, it's this: Don't lose yourself. These Games will turn you into a monster, and you don't want that. Stay yourself, Sprink. The Capitol already loves you, and if my rebellious stunts caused you trouble, I'm sorry. I love you.

Remember, I'm betting on you.

Love,

Drako'

Satisfied, I moved on to my next letter. I had so many to write. After all, so many people had changed my life, made me a better version of myself, transformed me, and showed me reason.

'Becka,

I can't believe that at least one of us is going to die. I hope it's not you, but at the same time, I really hope it's not me. I'm sure you'll understand me, because I know you feel the same. After all, I know you. Like the inside of my hand.

You love honesty, though you don't always use it. Even throughout the Games, you've always despised violence. You always stand up for what you think is right, and, just like me, you hate what the Games have made you.

But, honestly, I don't think the Games have ruined you. Sure, they made you kill people, but they did that to everyone. Instead of turning you into a ruthless killer, like me at first, it made you realize how fragile and beautiful life was.

They turned you into the girl who taught me that I had to stand up for what was right, and face what was wrong. Even when what's wrong is your home, your family. You showed me that didn't matter. All that mattered was justice.

I know that by the time you read this -if you read this - there will be nothing you will be able to do, but it doesn't matter. I need to clear my chest of everything. I don't know how this makes sense, but in my head, it does.

All those nights after Jamie's death... Those nights we cried together, even if you didn't know him. Those nights where the only thing keeping me sane was waking up and seeing you. Those nights affected me forever. They made me realize that, well, I care for you. Possibly even more than I care for Sprink.

I don't know how this happenned, but somehow it did. The ruthless Capitol volunteer changed, fell for the rebel. It seems almost like a fairy tale, but it's not. It's real. And at least one of us is going to die.

Honestly, I don't know if I'd rather it be me, or you, and I prefer not to think about it, it confuses me too much.

I love you,

Drako'

Tears slowly crawling down my face, I sealed the letter, and perhaps also our fate. If she died, I would forever be affected, I knew that, but what if it was me who passed? Would she care, or had I been a mere ally, a friend at best?

Burrying my thoughts, I focused on the third, and final, letter.

'Sycamore,

Honestly, I envy you. Though it causes you to be mocked by the viewers, I envy how innocent and naive you are. How you never quite grasp what's going on. It protected you from the horrors of the Games, and I wish the same could've happenned to me.

I don't think you'll ever read this letter. After all, that would involve the Capitol selecting you as the victor. But then again, you never know. They might want to see you thrown in another Games for their entertainement. Or maybe they'd select you to break you, or because Becka and I caused too much trouble to win.

If it is you they choose, find Sprink. Look after each other. Take care of each other. He can teach you about the Games, and might finally help you understand enough to survive. You want to live, don't you? I trust you can, and hopefully you'll go as far as you deserve.

Whatever you do, don't give them a show. That's what they want.

Sincerely,

Drako'

Possibly for the last time, I closed my eyes, and fell asleep.

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