Author Games: Return To Seasons

Task Two: On The First Day Of Christmas - ❄ Winter Entries ❄

District 10 Male - CRYSTAL GLACIA

!!KILLED!!

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District 10 Female - HOLLY-NOELLE GARNET [4] 

Coming from a Winter district, I'm used to a plethora of things coming down from the sky: snow, hail, rain on a warm day... What I'm not used to is the actual world around me falling apart.

"What do you reckon happened?"

Edgar's voice, easily the lowest and most masculine of my group, is shaky as he speaks. I can almost hear Cutepid's overdramatic, attention-begging sigh as our ally speaks, but I decide not to tell him off. Instead, I decide to focus on what Edgar has asked; though this question may seem trivial to some, to me it's crucial. After all, the key to controlling the events around me resides within understanding them. 

"Maybe the Oppidium finally realized it was unfair to force us through this?"

"Nah," says Cutepid, rebuffing Plumpkyn's argument without a shred of doubt in his mind. "Clearly, the Twelve boys realized they couldn't live without me and have organized a way to bust me out."

As they continue to talk, my attention wanders towards the snow-peaked mountains, so far off to the north. If these Games were progressing as normal, that'd be where I'd want to go. Cutepid probably would've agreed, and neither of the other Seasons could've denied that the little cabins would've made perfect refuge from the elements - they may even have been stocked with food. But this is not a Games that is normally progressing; that much is obvious.

"Blitzen."

I turn around to face Edgar, confusion doubtlessly filling my face as I try to process what he means. My first thought goes back to Blitzen Advent, but there's no way he knows about that.

"Blitzen's rebellion. The very first sign of it was when some of the Gamemakers broke the tributes out of the arena. Think this could be a repeat of that?"

"No," I say, as categoric as I'm reproached of always being. "The Oppidium would be prepared for that."

"Would they? Why would they expect rebels to try the exact same thing twice?"

After hearing this, I have to admit I stay silence. Despite my past insistence, the current events actually make sense when explained this way. Briefly, I pause to think of what it could mean for me if Edgar's right. I'd be forced to become a soldier, even more so than I am now, standing inside the arena with my sickle clutched in my hand. And why? For some people dissatisfied with the way the Oppidium is running things? That's their problem. This isn't my fight. So why should I fight for them?

Except it doesn't take me long to realize that it is my fight. In fact, all I need to do in order to realize that is watch the bodies that litter the ground already. A brief count reveals that six have fallen already, though this doesn't mean much; I could easily be missing some bodies. I don't know any of their names - they aren't from winter - but I see their slowly freezing corpses on the snow. I see their blood spill and decorate the snow. And that's when I understand that this is why they expect me to fight. Because this could have been me.

"You're right," I whisper. "Stay still!"

My allies stare at me, confused, but do as I say. The surroundings of the big tree are empty otherwise, abandoned by everybody except us as soon as the sky began crumbling. Somewhere in the distance, I can still hear the thump! of a tile hitting the ground, but the overwhelming sound here is that of silence.