𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐘 & 𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐄. ᵀᴴᴳ[1]

8

AS THE PEDESTAL THAT SAGE STOOD ON BEGAN TO RISE, SAGE FELT ALL OF HIS EMOTIONS ABOUT THE GAMES CHANGE. He could physically feel his anxiety and nerves leave him, which surprised him. He expected it to only grow worse, but instead it was replaced with adrenaline and anger that he could feel throughout his entire body. He couldn't lose now, if he lost— Katniss would be right there next year, he was certain of that. Sure she could use a bow, she could climb fairly well, and she had the basic idea about berries and herbs that she could use— but she would still only be twelve. Then what would stop them from putting Prim in the arena too once she was old enough? Nothing. They could do whatever they wanted— they already had. From the way President Snow looked at him, the way he spoke— it wasn't just threats, but a warning even disguised by his smooth tone. For all Sage knew, he wasn't really chosen— another name had been pulled out and Effie just said the name she was supposed to instead. But Sage could barely stand to entertain that idea— Effie didn't fully know what it was like to be in Sage's position, but the way that she treated him and Deedee that morning...she wanted to believe she had no part in staging the reaping.

Sage quickly pushed those thoughts aside. Now obviously wasn't the time for that. So he took a a few deep breaths, each one the air seemed a bit more familiar— a bit more like the fresh air from outside District Twelve out of range from the mines or even the roof garden. He looked upward, and watched as two panels opened— the bright light blinded him for a moment but as he neared the top, he could see a crystal clear sky. Not one single wispy cloud was in sight. Along with the fresh air came humidity, it was thick and hot as soon as it touched his skin— and by the time he began to move through the opening— he felt a slight breeze. Making the weather in the arena almost enjoyable.

As soon as he stood up right, above the ground— his eyes immediately began to dart around to get somewhat of an idea of the arena; the pedestals were in a semi-circle, and around them was water. It was crystal clear, you could see the pebbles at the bottom. The water seemed to cut the arena in half, before him was the bronze cornucopia that was surrounded by white sand with backpacks spread out, and from the looks of it— there were weapons too, and the closer to the cornucopia they got— they bigger the weapons became. Then behind the cornucopia was something just like the year before— a thick forest. They were tall like the ones outside twelve, and from the ones he could see, they had moss and vines on them which made the rock climbing wall with ropes in the gymnasium make sense. Sage glanced behind him, on the other side of the water was the same white sand, but more rocky. And then the trees mirrored what was in front of him.

"Let the sixty-eighth annual Hunger Games..." a voice began, surrounding them— reminding them of where they were. "begin."

With that simple word, begin, Sage couldn't help but think of the cafeteria that Katniss and Prim were probably seated in. With the small television playing because they were required to show the games during breaks, or his father in the mines, or his mother by herself at home, or Ella at school— all of them were watching. Every year he would watch, already feeling sorry for the families of the tributes that were going to be some of the first ones to die. This year he could be one of them...