The Fantasy Games (Final Fantasy Fanfiction)

Chapter Two: The Reaping

She felt the tension in the sir suddenly thicken dramatically as a young woman, clad in expensive robes of Yevon toddled up onto the centre of the makeshift stage. She was young, with chocolate eyes and ginger locks, plump rosy cheeks and a creamy complexion. Though her nose seemed a slight bit unnatural and big she was still pretty but the mountains of make-up that donned her face tainted her natural beauty. The heavy colourful robes hid her figure but everyone knew that because she spent most of her time in the Capitol, she was well-overweight. A lot of people from the Capitol were; they didn’t have to hunt for their dinner (partially because it was illegal but Yuna and Tidus decided to ignore that fact) and they had so much money that they could afford whatever food they wanted. Yuna had even heard rumours that people actually threw out food they didn’t eat, though she didn’t believe them, no one in their right mind would throw out good food, well unless they wanted to die from starvation.

Her train of thoughts was cut off as every head turned towards Shelinda, who now stood in front of a silver microphone as her sugar-coated voice tested the volume of the infuriating contraption. She tapped it twice with a chubby finger as her pampered nails seemed to shine in the sunlight. Yuna could feel herself inwardly cringe as Shelinda flashed a massive fake sweet smile at them all, her eyes glittering with cruel excitement.

“Welcome, welcome,” she greeted them, her smile never faltering. “It is time to announce this year’s tributes for Sector Ten to represent us all in the seventy-fourth annual Fantasy Games.” Shelinda’s smile widened even further, if that was possible, as she seemed to make eye contact with each weary teenager. Most shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, some dropped their eyes, some glared but no one dared to smile back, Yuna didn’t think anyone wanted to.

She willed her feet to remain unmoving and her expression neutral as Shelinda’s eyes met her own bi-coloured ones. She folded her hands together in front of her to stop them from trembling with well hidden rage. She hated the Fantasy Games not only because young lives were lost to entertain an audience, but they’d taken away all of her family, save her cousins and uncle. They’d taken her sister, her parents, her loved ones and she was powerless against it. Isaaru had said that she needed to control her emotions if she ever wanted to master her talents but that meant burying her hatred, her rage and her anger deep within her and safely lock it away in her heart. She’d tried and tried, she’d been drained mentally from trying and in the end she’d succeeded in keeping them down, but every year, she felt the prison walls of her heart strain as tears of fury burned the back of her eyes on this one day. She was certain one day that her heart wouldn’t be able to take the pressure anymore and she’d do something she’d really regret. Today might well be that day.

“Ladies first, as always,” Shelinda announced in her sing-song voice as she trotted towards the huge glass bowl in front of the lines of girls. The tension in the air was almost suffocating her at this stage as Yuna watched helplessly, praying to the fayth it wouldn’t be anyone she knew.

Shelinda let the tension grow as she wiggled her chubby fingers above the opening of the bowl with eagerness, studying the slips of paper like a predator hunting its innocent prey. Yuna squeezed her eyes shut, her lips forming the hymn of the fayth in a silent song of desperate prayer. She heard the sound of papers rubbing off one another, it seemed so loud and noisy in the deathly silent courtyard. It ceased suddenly and she managed to crack open her green eye in anxiety only to see the chubby woman toddle back to the microphone and rip the slip open.

Pink, plush lips formed an even bigger smile as Shelinda’s eyes snapped up towards the numerous rows of fearful girls. Yuna felt her heart stop and her breath catch in her throat as the words she feared most came out of the hostess’ mouth.

“Rikku Cihcdyn.”

Time seemed to slow down as every boy and girl turned towards the named tribute. The girls stepped away from her as if she were infected with a contagious disease, leaving the terrified teenager no place to hide. Green eyes wide, petite mouth slightly open in shock and horror, Rikku’s feet seemed to move of their own accord as she stumbled towards her awaiting escorts, the SOLDIERs. Shelinda’s beckoning voice faded to the back of Yuna’s mind as she watched the look of death cross over her younger cousin’s normally cheerful face.