• CIRCUS FREAK | 𝒯𝓇ℯℯ𝒸𝒽 • [CURRENTLY ON HOLD UNTIL JULY]

18: ATHENA'S AGENDA

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Athena, her gaze distant and thoughts turbulent, perches silently in the cold, unforgiving stairs outside the Academy. The air is thick with sorrow and the metallic tang of blood, a stark reminder of the recent tragedy that befell Apollo and Diana Ring. The day seems to have chilled, the sun hiding behind the clouds in shame at the sombre occasion. Persephone stands beside her, a few tears beginning to fall down her face. Whilst Athena had never been especially close with Apollo and Diana, she knows that Persephone was very dear friends with them back in middle school. Athena's mind, the usual fortress of strategy, cannot help but wander to the grim memory of Arachne's funeral—a spectacle of cruelty that she fears will be mirrored today.

The procession begins, a slow march of despair that Athena observes with a detached eye. Speeches drone on, their words empty and hollow against the backdrop of mourning. She barely registers the pomp and circumstance, her focus sharpening only as the main procession makes its solemn advance. The sight that unfolds is as barbaric as it is expected; the fallen tributes now reduced to mere spectacles for the Capitol's twisted entertainment, their sparks snuffed out before the Games even begin.

Facet, Velvereen, Sabyn, and Ginnee—names that once held dreams and aspirations—are dragged lifelessly behind the horses, a brutal prelude to the cage of the surviving tributes that follows. Inside, the remaining tributes huddle closely as if shielding each other from the hateful eyes of the onlookers, their spirits broken, their eyes devoid of hope. The cloud of utter dejection that hangs over them is nearly palpable. Athena's heart clenches at the sight, anger boiling within her veins like molten iron.

Persephone, ever the empath, senses the storm brewing within Athena and reaches out, her touch a silent solace amidst the chaos. Their fingers entwine, a fleeting moment of unity in a world bent on division. It's all that's needed to stop Athena from storming away again. Her eyes, however, are drawn to the back of the truck where Treech sits slumped and defeated. He seems too exhausted to even raise his head, although he manages to glance up at the crowd. Their eyes meet, a silent exchange of sorrow and apology, a momentary connection that speaks volumes amidst the shouts and boos of the Capitol onlookers.

As the procession fades into the distance, Athena's resolve hardens. She mutters a quick farewell to Persephone, her mind already racing with plans and contingencies. The hospital holds answers, and Clemensia, with her knowledge of the snakes, is the key. Athena's steps are swift and determined; there is much to be done, and time waits for no one, not even in the face of grief. She can't shake the feeling that those snakes will have more uses than simply Dr. Gaul's attempt at silencing Clemensia.

***

Athena's heart hammers against her chest as she strides through the plain, echoing halls of the Capitol's hospital. The antiseptic smell assaults her senses, a stark reminder of the grim visit that lies ahead. She pauses outside Clemensia's cubicle, her hand trembling as it reaches for the curtain. She can't bear to see Clemensia in that state again, but her desperation for knowledge overshadows her fear. With a breath she didn't realize she was holding, Athena pulls it aside.