• Athena Spring has spent her entire life carefully curating the perfect image. Perfect grades, a proud family, and the Plinth Prize nearly within her grasp, Athena has it all. However, when her plans are derailed by an unexpected twist of events, s...
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In the hushed auditorium, the tension is a palpable force, thrumming through the air like a charged current. Athena, her heart a cold stone in her chest, watches the screen with an intensity that belies her calm exterior.
Only three remain.
Reaper, the favourite from the beginning, perches safely atop Lamina's beam, out of reach from the serpents creeping below. Lucy Gray remains hidden in a destroyed part of the stands, every now and then a flash of her rainbow ruffles being caught by the camera. Then there's Treech, standing on the precipice of life and death as he remains collapsed against the wall. His breaths come in ragged gasps and coughs, each one a testament to the poison coursing through his veins. He looks dire, blood still dripping from his nose as the poison spreads further and further through his body.
The snakes have begun to retreat from the arena, slithering down into the tunnels and out of sight. However, several patches remain, huddling together for warmth as they writhe over each other, their vibrant rainbow scales an eerie contrast to the otherwise dull environment.
Treech's gaze is fixed on the serpentine menace below, his mind undoubtedly racing through every possible outcome. He's against the clock; any minute now he could succumb to the rat poison. With a grimace of determination, he descends from the relative safety of the stands, his axe a steady weight in his grasp.
Treech's steps falter as he approaches the small, frail figure crumpled in the dust.
His round eyes are still open, glossed over and unseeing, the shadow of fear still painted on his still features. Snake bites litter his body, small pinpricks across his skin starting to mar with rainbow scales. Treech kneels beside Mizzen, a lump forming in his throat. His hands, trembling with a mix of fear and hope, reach out to the boy.
"Hey, little man," Treech whispers, his voice shaking with every word. He shakes Mizzen gently, a silent plea in each movement, begging for a miracle that refuses to come. Yet, Mizzen does not move.
The auditorium falls deathly silent as Treech's image is shown on screen, crouched over Mizzen's body as he frantically tries to get the young boy to move. Beside Athena, Persephone begins to cry silently, her shoulders shaking with every sob as she grieves her tribute, her brother. Festus wraps his arm around Persephone, trying to bring her any form of comfort he can manage, but she's inconsolable. Athena squeezes her hand tighter.
Despite her usually inexpressive demeanour, the emotions of the day have taken their toll. Still reeling from Treech's near-death, Athena's eyes also flood with tears as she watches Treech grieve Mizzen.
"Mizzen!" Treech calls again, louder, the name a sharp burst in the quiet, a desperate cry against the finality before him.
But the boy remains still, unhearing, the slight flush on his cheeks a cruel mimicry of life. Treech's heart clenches, choking out a quiet sob, the vice of grief tightening with the realization that Mizzen is dead.
