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Her ice cold heart.
It was Athena Winter's doomed fate as she cautiously pushed away the emerald-green foliage, peering into the clearing where the cornucopia was held. But she just didn't know it yet. If she were to win these games, the guilt and loss would grasp the organ so tightly with their frozen grip, it would be overcome with the icy sensation, and consequently turn into solid ice.
A light breeze lifted the sixteen-year-old's hair behind her back, causing her face to pang with an icy feeling, almost a warning of what was to happen if the crown of a victor ended up being lifted onto her head. She had counted; there was only a final tribute left to kill, the other one, from District three, had died only hours before. The pale moon was faintly reflected inside the horn's silver surface; seeming almost trapped in there.
Azora, the female from District one, was calmly resting under the cover of her camp; her still body too peaceful for these games. The seventeen-year-old was the only career of the 68th Games that remained, but it appeared that the fact didn't bother her. Streaks of unnatural fiery hair protruded through the camo sleeping bag; most likely a product of the Capitol's flouncy prep teams.
The girl from District 8 felt almost sorry for her fellow tribute: as Azora's unsuspecting slumbered form would be helpless against the touch of Athena's frost-bound knives. Looking back on their time in the training centre, the brunette remembered the other's astounding bow-and-arrow skills, and by the time the blood would be trickling down her neck, those skills would be forgotten.
One more kill, and the games would be Athena's.
The previous period of reminiscing was over, and the girl's light footfalls over the rocky surface where the only thing to be heard. Past calls from Capitol-bred canaries had silenced, no more cannons would fire until Azora was dead, even the weak breeze had calmed.
All eyes from across Panem were glued to Athena's every move; colourful Capitol ones were excitedly waiting to meet their newest victress, green District 8 ones were amazed that they could save another child from the games, and blue District 1 ones were disappointed that all of their academy work had failed for Azora; all from a harmless thing called sleep.
Athena caught a glimpse of her own irises in the reflection of her knife, and saw a young girl who was chucked into the black hole of the Hunger Games, and if she looked even deeper into the folds of green, she would be able to see the bloodthirsty freak looking forward to emerging and destroying her future wellbeing.
These thoughts were lost when her trembling legs stopped 5 feet away from Azora's camp, signalling for her to make the first attack. But the girl didn't want to meaninglessly chuck a knife to end the other's life, she wanted it to mean something, and show that Azora wasn't just another valueless, deceased juvenile. It would be a dangerous move, but Athena herself didn't want the generic, uncaring life a victor normally led.
Moving closer, the District 8 girl could see that no wrong move could awaken Azora, with the only exception of Death. The teenager lying on the camp floor was contentedly motionless, and the sight of her small smile broke what Athena had left of her heart.
Even though she was practically a stranger, the joyous laugh of Azora's younger self graced the arena with a bittersweet feel. She didn't deserve this. No one did. No one would. The spring in the step of Athena's hallucination brought a cold tear to her eye. Seventeen years for someone to live was never enough.
The Capitol didn't understand what all the Districts, rich and poor, had to go through.
Moments later, the glow of the aura from the younger ghost dispersed into the night, probably awaiting its reuniting with the older version in the afterlife.
"Azora, I'm so sorry you have to go through this. You were a fighter, and strong, and determined, and didn't deserve to be thrown in here, as did everyone else, but most of them are dead now. And none of us killed them. It was the half-concealed cruelty of the Capitol that did." Athena whispered over the girl's slumbered body.
"When this knife hits your throat, it won't be out of greed, or spite, or revenge, but of mercy. You, and everyone that began their ends here, could've lived great lives, and I'm sorry. My reign as victor of the 68th Hunger Games will not be full of selfishness, or vainness, but instead, it'll hold sympathy, remembrance, regret, and guilt. Again, I'm sorry for this."
Athena moved her hand to caress the cheek of the sleeping 2nd-placed tribute, and whispered a remorseful 'see you soon' and prepared her dagger. She couldn't look without uncomfort, but for Azora, she wouldn't break her stare. Tears were now streaming down her face and plundering onto the other tribute, and Athena didn't know why. She had never spoken to the older girl, but she was forcing herself to perform the act of Death: no stranger deserved this fate.
Little did Athena know that these tears would only be the start for years to come, and the first feel of penetrating iciness entered them, changed by the games.
The girl drew the first blood, which she could see clearly even in the darkness, and she wanted to scream, but the mental promise to keep Azora's death painless sealed her mouth. Contrasting the mood of the area, the crimson smile engraved in the other tribute's throat stood out, and pulled the last tears Athena could shed out of the depths of the green in her eyes.
The final image of the games embossed into her head was the plead in the blue of Azora's eyes, and the shock in her mouth when she found blood neatly falling down her chest. A cannon went off in the distance, and the new victor just wanted to run and escape.
Escape from the responsibilities now held on her shoulders.
Escape from the regret of the lives she had ended.
Escape from all the blame of bringing death to others falling on her, dropped by grieving families.
Her careless sprint was halted when the crucial hovercraft stopped above her head, and plunged its claw towards Athena. The Capitol needed their new victress, and the girl was like a deer caught in headlights, but she had to deliver.
Looking into the bright lights above, the concluding tear rolled slowly down Athena's cheek, leaving a chilling trail of ice behind. From then on, Athena made a pledge.
A pledge to never love anyone again.
A pledge to disappear from the eye of the Capitol.
A pledge which would protect as many souls as she could muster.
Athena Winter: The Icy Goddess, her heart full of only ice and no love or warmth. It was imminent to happen.
Now she would just have to deal with it, somehow. —————————————————————- A/N: hello, and welcome! if you want further information about this fan fiction, scroll down to chapter one, and you'll see the list of face claims and disclaimers. i hope you enjoyed this first part, see you soon! xx
