As the words "Let fire claim this one as ours," echoed throughout the room, the 8 hands opened as one and powder dropped into the goblet beneath them. The insides of the goblets all burst into flame the second the powder landed. Tommy flinched, hard. He regretted instantly, recovered faster then anyone else could, and thankfully, all the eyes in the room were trained on the goblets. No one saw. No one saw. He was safe- or- well- he wasn't in any extra danger for the mistake. That was something.
"The vote is unanimous, the boy will become one of ours. He will become Theseus. What he knew before here is the past. What he was is gone. Now, he is Theseus. Now he is ours. Now he is a fighter," The Blood Mask, who appeared to hold the most control, declared, and with the words, Tommy knew his fate was sealed. This was where he would be for a long time. Although if it hadn't gone this way, maybe they would've killed him, so he should consider himself lucky.
Tommy saw Mask 17 bow, and instantly he followed suit. When the man turned and started towards the door, Tommy carefully slipped behind him, following silently.
"Oh, and 17?" The Head Blood Mask's voice rung out, cutting through the silence and stopping Tommy and Mask 17 in their tracks. Before anyone could speak, the Blood Mask continued, "Break him or I will."
Mask 17 nodded stiffly, not turning back. After a second of silence, he continued walking, and Tommy followed once more. This time there were no interruptions as they walked out. As soon as they were outside however, Mask 17 spun to face Tommy, stopping in his tracks.
"You are a fighter now. Worse, you're connected to me. If you lose, I lose, so don't you dare fucking lose. Respond to the name Theseus and Theseus only. That's who you are. No one else."
Tommy nodded. He recognised what the man was saying and he understood. Here he was Theseus. Here he was a fighter. Here he belonged to Mask 17, and everything he did reflected on the man. He had to be perfect.
"Good," He snapped, before turning on his heal and waking back the way they came. Back towards Drista and the cell. Tommy didn't know if that's where they were going, but he did know that his only job was to follow the man wherever he was taken. Do whatever the man said. Be everything the man wanted.
In the end, they were going back to the cell with Drista. Mask 17 snarled something about having an hour until lunch, and then training all afternoon, before slamming the door and walking away, leaving Tommy inside.
"Did they vote?" Drista asked softly and Tommy nodded. Drista sighed softly, "You're stuck here then, aren't you? I'm sorry Tommy, I wish I could get you out."
"They said I'm called Theseus now," Tommy murmured and Drista sighed once more. It took, her a few seconds to work out the words to what she was going to say, but when she did say it, Tommy knew he would carry them with him for a long time. Knew he would hold onto them as though it was all he could do. As though it was life or death, and maybe, just maybe, it was.
"You are Tommy. You are good. You are perfect. They will tell you otherwise, but know who you are. Don't let them change you. They will not win. You are not Theseus."
Drista was quiet for a long time after that. She looked like she had so much left to say, and no words to say it. Finally, her words filled the silence.
"Thank you Tommy. Thank you for getting Dream caught. Thank you for saving me, if only a little bit," Drista said, her voice cracking. Tommy knew instantly that if he looked up and met Drista's eyes, he would find them ridden with tears. He could not bear to see that, so he continued to stare at the wall in front of him, wishing he had the strength to look her in the eyes.
"One day we'll get out, we all will," Tommy whispered. He had said the words a hundred times. Repeated them to child after child in bad group home after bad group home. The young ones were always the worst, always so confused by the pain. Tommy had always done what he could to lesson it. Even if hope was too dangerous for him, he knew they needed it. The young ones did. Hope was required to get them through the pain, and reality was required to tether them to this world. Tommy didn't need hope anymore, but he did know reality all too well.
"Please... don't forget me," Drista said, her voice desperate, as though she believed Tommy's words and needed them to apply to her as well.
"I won't," Tommy promised, and he knew the words were true. He didn't forget. He lived and he lost and he hurt, but he never forgot the others. He didn't let himself. Forgetting would be betraying them in the only way he still could. It was the worst he could do to those he had already lost.
It wasn't long after that when Tommy was collected. He wished he could've said more, but nothing he could say would've changed anything, so he went. He knew he had to do as he was told, but he would remember Drista's words. He was Tommy. They won't win. He was not Theseus. He is not Theseus.
"At lunch you will meet the other fighters. They are all your opponents. Don't trust them. Don't care about them. Don't befriend them. Talk to them, learn their strategies, but do not get attached. One day you may have to kill them," Mask 17 instructed before pushing Tommy into a crowded room full of children and the sent of food.
Words: 1000
A/n: sorry for the pathetic amount of updates, I keep forgetting I haven't updated oops-