Hazel couldn't recall a time when her heart had pounded as fiercely as it did at that moment. It thrummed against her ribs like a bird trying to escape a cage. Panic, previously simmering just beneath the surface, now surged forth, dousing her like a bucket of ice-cold water. Her breathing accelerated, fast and shallow. Silus would never abandon his axe. Not willingly. Her hands shot up to her hair, fingers raking through, nails scraping her scalp.
"What have you done?" she voiced aloud, uncertain of whom she was questioning. Her surroundings seemed to tilt and swirl, threatening to envelop her in darkness.
She knelt, her fingers trembling, still entwined in her hair, as she fixated on the weapon. The ruby-bladed weapon was covered in dirt and smatters of blood. She was breathing fast but still felt as though she was suffocating. A sensation of burning filled her chest, and the edges of her vision began to flicker like a lightbulb just about to burn out.
A firm hand landed on her shoulder, and she jerked away, nearly toppling over.
"You need to breathe," Ethan's steady voice came as he crouched beside her, his grey eyes scanning her face with concern.
"It's all my fault; he's gone," Hazel's voice was charged with hysteria, her eyes darting frantically, unable to anchor on any one thing as dread seized her.
Ethan gripped her shoulder, "Hazel, focus on my voice."
But she still could barely hear him over the racing thoughts in her head. Visions of what could have happened to Silus swirled in her mind, all of the worst possible outcomes. Was the world watching her little brother be murdered at this very moment? She gagged at the thought of her family gathered around their television, watching Silus be killed.
Ethan's hands were gentle but firm as they guided hers away from her tangled hair. "Look at me, Hazel."
With great effort, Hazel forced her eyelids open, intertwining her eyes with his. "Now, take deep breaths with me," he emphasized each word with calm, the warmth of his skin providing a tangible point of focus to anchor her spiraling thoughts.
Ethan was right; she needed to calm down. This wasn't helping her or anyone. Hazel fought her own nervous system for control of her body. She drew in a deep breath, filling her lungs before releasing the air through her pursed lips, the action somewhat steadying her frayed nerves.
"Good," Ethan encouraged her to stand, supporting her weight. "Now, keep breathing, but make it even slower."
Following his guidance, Hazel reduced the rhythm of her breath, each inhale and exhale helping to anchor her back to the present. Gradually, her heartbeat decelerated, easing the spinning world around her, though a sheen of cold sweat clung to her neck.
Ethan maintained his gentle hold on her hands, "I know you are thinking the worst, but you don't know he is dead."
Hazel shook her head and closed her eyes again. He had to be dead, and she was responsible. She should have listened to so many people, including Festus, Snow, and even Silus himself.
"Stay with me," Ethan urged, giving her hands a reassuring squeeze. "I understand what you're feeling."
Her eyes fluttered open. Skepticism colored her gaze. "How could you possibly?"
A shadow of sorrow crossed Ethan's face, mirroring the empathy she'd noticed before. "Because I've seen that panic, felt that guilt," he admitted, "Losing a sibling isn't something you ever recover from."
She should have realized, her panic transforming into a wave of empathy. As she sought confirmation from Ruby, she noticed the change in the young girl before her. Ruby's gaze lifted to meet Hazel's, her eyes reflecting a depth of sorrow that belied her age. Her features, usually animated and lively, were now etched with the heavy lines of grief. Ruby's eyes flickered towards Ethan as her body seemed to sag under the weight of her sadness. When she spoke, her voice was hollow. "She was my best friend..."
"The one you went on adventures with?" Hazel questioned. Ruby nodded, tears forming on the edges of her eyelids.
Ethan's stare drifted as if conjuring an image in his mind, "Tulsi."
"I can tell you I didn't handle it well at first. Don't repeat my mistakes. Let us help you. Guilt won't change what's happened, and it won't aid Silus." His sincerity was so raw that Hazel almost wanted to look away but couldn't bring herself to do so, "The decision to release Owen and Grace wasn't yours alone—we were all in agreement. Any guilt you're carrying should be shared, not shouldered by just you."
She nodded as she felt herself calm, her nerves soothed by Ethan's words. She searched his face a little longer before saying, "I'm sorry about your sister."
Ethan waved off her apology, "Don't worry about it. It's not you who needs to be sorry." He glanced away for a moment, his timbre cooling as he stared off into the arena's sky. Ethan released her hands, "Besides, give Silus some credit. Just because he has been outside of your supervision for thirty minutes doesn't mean he's dead."
A scoffing laugh, sharp with a tinge of relief, escaped Hazel. Taking a step back, she ran a hand over her face, brushing aside the lingering shadow of panic. "You're right."
"Of course, I am," Ethan's confident smile returned.
Ruby stepped closer, her hand finding Hazel's arm, "We'll find them together."
The cold dread that had gripped her moments before melted away, leaving behind a warm flush of embarrassment over Hazel's cheeks. She sensed her earlier panic receding into a corner of her mind, not vanished but subdued. Turning to Ethan, then Ruby, "Thank you," her voice was steadier now, "both of you."
Taking several deep breaths Hazel picked up and held the red-bladed axe in front of her, adjusting her hands on its much heavier handle. It was still slick with sweat and streaks of blood. Swallowing down her doubts, she turned to her district twelve companions, "Let's go."
Resuming their path, Hazel marched ahead, the axe in hand, following the winding blood trail through the corn. Ethan and Ruby moved behind her, their breaths mingling with the soft groans from Ruby and the subtle rustle of the stalks in the dry afternoon breeze. Her fingers scratched at the axe's handle, wiping away the specs of crusted blood with her fingertips as they marched forward.
After they had walked for several minutes, Ruby's voice came from behind her, "Look! Is that Aaron?"
Hazel's attention snapped to the right, spotting the familiar light brown hair and prone figure lying in a bed of shattered corn.
The three of them ran as quietly as they could toward his form. Aaron was lying on his back, sword at his side. His eyes were closed, and he was unmoving.
Ruby's pupils dilated with alarm, rubbing the edge of her bandages between her fingers, "Is he dead?"
Hazel thought the same for a second but caught the pink tinge to his cheeks and the slight dancing of the tips of his hair as he breathed out. Hazel's fingers searched the warm skin of his neck, and a steady pulse met her fingertips. A burgeoning bruise marred his forehead, yet there were no cuts. Blood, however, was a different story. His shirt and pants bore copious amounts of it, darkening the fabric and staining his hands.
"He's just passed out," Hazel knelt beside Aaron, shaking his shoulder. "Aaron." Ethan stood by, bow poised, scanning the surroundings.
Aaron's eyes fluttered open, and with a sudden movement, he sat up, wincing. His sword swung up defensively. Hazel retreated a few feet backward, hands raised. "Aaron, it's us."
The sword's tension eased as Aaron's confusion melted into recognition. He winced as one of his hands brushed the darkening bruise along his forehead.
"Where's Silus?" Hazel asked him as she crouched beside him on the ground.
He paused, his hand still over the bruise; his vision was dull with pain as it locked onto Hazel's. "They took him."
He's alive. Relief surged through Hazel at the confirmation, but it was tempered by anxiety. She leaned in, "Who?" Even as she asked, she braced for the names she already suspected.
Aaron's hand dropped, and he looked between Hazel and Ethan. "Grace, Owen, and... Eve."
Eve. Another flicker of guilt surged through Hazel as she thought of Grace and Owen, but she no longer felt surprised.
Aaron's face contorted with discomfort and confusion as he touched his forehead. "Got hit over the head. That's the last thing I remember before waking up here. They probably thought I was dead."
Ethan helped Aaron steady himself as he stood, a hand under his arm for balance. "I thought I was dead, too."
"Wouldn't be surprised, looking at you," Hazel remarked, giving him a thorough once-over. "You sure you don't have other injuries besides that nasty bruise?" Her attention shifted to the blood smeared across his clothing.
Aaron shook his head. "No, this blood... it's not mine. It belongs to Owen and Silus. Silus took a pretty good hit from one of Eve's knives. But he hit back hard before they could finally pin him down. And Ethan nailed Owen with another arrow. "
Hazel felt a mix of terror and pride for her brother. Silus was among the toughest people she knew, a fact she allowed herself to forget amidst her panic. He was strong, resilient, and highly motivated; she shouldn't have doubted him.
"Are you going to be okay?" Ruby inquired.
Aaron managed a weak smile, "I'll be fine. And you?" he asked with a nod to her injured arm.
"I'm all bandaged up, just a cut," Ruby echoed Hazel's earlier assurance.
Ethan chuckled, "Tough as they come, this one," he said, earning a spirited smile from Ruby.
Before continuing, Ruby passed a water bottle to Aaron, urging him to drink. Their supplies were dwindling, but calling Festus for a delivery wasn't an option. Attracting attention with massive carrier falcons was the last thing they needed. Instead, they pressed on, following the blood trail that would lead them to both their enemies and Silus. Hazel took the lead, her attention glued to the path ahead.
"Why would they take him instead of just... ending it?" Ethan's question broke the silence, finally asking Aaron what Hazel had been thinking.
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"I'm not entirely certain, but I'm guessing they are trying to lure out Hazel." Aaron sent a sidelong glance in Hazel's direction.
She felt the burden of the target on her back as if they were bricks in her backpack. Her thoughts then drifted to Senator Snow, and her free hand skimmed her shirt pocket. She ran a finger along the edge of the embellished card hidden away. She could almost feel the words on the card's face under her fingers, "The odds are in your favor. Until we meet again. -CS". Hazel let out a derisive snort. What odds? What favor exactly? While Snow's attention had indeed garnered her significant sponsor support, it was a double-edged sword. It had undeniably placed her in the murderous crosshairs of the other tributes. Not to mention, she still wasn't even close to figuring out his motives. But maybe none of it even mattered. We will never meet again anyways.
With a shake of her head, Hazel redirected her attention forward. "If it is me they want, it is me they are about to get."
Silence enveloped the group as they advanced until Hazel's ears caught distant murmurs, halting her in her tracks. Her breathing stilled as she strained to listen. All of them froze, each gripping their weapons tighter. As Hazel edged forward, the voices gradually became clearer – a female and a male in conversation. One of them, she could recognize in her sleep, Silus.
Hazel crept forward with deliberate caution, gripping Silus' axe. The stalks of corn brushed against her as she moved. A small clearing in the cornfield came into view as she advanced a few meters. She dropped into a crouch as she peered through the last barrier of corn.
Ahead, four figures emerged from the blur of green and gold, three standing and one kneeling. Even at this distance, Silus was unmistakably the one on the ground. His heavy breathing was visible in the slight rise and fall of his shoulders. Shackles clinked around his wrists. A trickle of blood from his nose stained his lips and dripped onto the ground, coloring the earth's muted tones beneath him. A stark red mark marred the back of his green shirt. His stare was fixed ahead of him as if he was studying dirt.
"God, this is dragging on," grumbled the lean brunette figure next to him as she flipped a knife in the air, catching it with ease. Hazel recognized her immediately. Eve's green eyes scanned the surroundings with an impatient glare.
Hazel's attention shifted to the two figures stationed on either side of Silus, the sight of Owen and Grace igniting a sense of regret within her stomach. Owen stood with his spear pointed at Silus' neck. A fresh injury was visible along his shoulder. Grace, her tangled curly black hair framing her brown eyes, appeared wary, nursing several new injuries of her own.
Silus's deep voice met her ears, "I told her not to follow me. She won't come." Hazel gripped Silus's axe tighter, sinking lower into her crouched position, hidden among the corn. Aaron had been right; they were using Silus to draw her out.
Eve laughed, twirling the knife with a sneer. "Sure, Seven. What kind of sister would she be if she didn't try to save you?"
Silus countered, "I know my sister. I told her to run. You might as well kill me. She isn't coming."
The urge to emerge from her hiding spot and confront them nearly overwhelmed her, but she clenched her teeth, fighting to keep the rising panic at bay. I really am going to murder him when this is all over.
Eve, with a flick of her wrist, sent the knife twirling through the air before catching it effortlessly. "Shut up," she ordered.
Silus raised his gaze to meet Eve's. "Why waste your time on Caleb's errands? He won't spare you; he can't. Not if he wants to win."
Eve's laughter was sharp and cold, "Afraid we are going to kill your precious sister?" she taunted, the smile on her lips failed to reach her eyes, "Don't worry, we'll start with you first."
"Looks to me like you are the one who is afraid." Silus' face was hard, "Trust me, if Hazel does show up, you should be."
Eve pocketed her knife and closed the distance between them, her palm striking Silus's face with a resounding slap that echoed in the clearing. Silus didn't respond; he merely spat out a mouthful of blood into the dirt before turning his face back to Eve. White hot rage filled Hazel. Her hands shook around Silus' axe, and her face warmed, sweat forming on her palms. Maybe convincing herself to be violent would be easier than she thought.
"Shut up, or I will gag you." Eve seethed, pointing her slender finger at Silus' face as he stared forward as if looking beyond her.
"Did you really need to do that?" Owen asked, leaning heavily on one leg, his clothing stained with a significant amount of blood, in addition to his still swollen eye.
"Shut up, both of you," Eve snapped, withdrawing the knife only to toss it into the air once more, "Or next time it won't be my hand."
With each measured step backward away from Silus, Hazel silently vowed, I'm coming, little brother.
Hazel crept backward until she reunited with Ethan, Ruby, and Aaron. They visibly straightened at her approach.
"Did you find them?" Ruby murmured.
"Yes," Hazel managed, the word strained through clenched teeth. She placed a sweat-dampened but cool hand against her reddened face.
"What are we going to do?" Ethan asked.
Hazel scanned their faces, her mind racing. She needed to save Silus, no matter what. Clutching Silus' axe, she ran her fingers over the handle, feeling the sweat from her palm mixing with the dried blood that stained it. She ran a finger over the tip of the blade, its sharpness threatening to pierce her delicate skin. For a moment, her thumb hovered at the blade's edge, tempted to press down and feel the bite of the steel. Withdrawing her hand, she examined the faint imprint left by the blade on her skin. Mere millimeters more, and her skin would have sliced open, but instead, only a small indentation remained.
Following her fingers down to the palm of her hand, Hazel sighed as she looked at it. The rest of her hand was covered in a mixture of her own sweat, dirt, and the blood of her brother, Ruby, and probably Owen. Staring at her hand, an idea sparked to life.
Lifting her head, Hazel locked eyes with her allies, a newfound resolve building. "I have an idea."
**********************************************************************************
Hazel, Ruby, Ethan, and Aaron huddled together, each briefed on their specific roles.
"Remember, you all don't have to do this," Hazel said, scanning their faces one more time. Instead of hesitation, she found unwavering resolve reflected back at her.
"You can't get rid of us that easy," Ethan chimed in with a half-smile. Ruby nodded in agreement, pulling her little pickaxe in front of her body with ferocity despite her injury.
"We're with you," Aaron assured.
A wave of gratitude washed over Hazel, "Alright," she conceded, a small smile playing on her lips, "Ready?"
Their nods were unanimous, each member of the group moving off in their designated direction.
Hazel steadied her breathing, preparing for the imminent confrontation. With silent steps, she advanced through the corn, drawing nearer to where Silus was detained.
Hazel pulled her backpack off and laid it out before her on the cornfield's soft ground. Reaching deep into the bag, she pulled out the last bits of the fabric face masks and a loop of rope and pocketed them.
Despite her resolve, Hazel couldn't shake off a creeping sense of nervousness. She caught herself biting her lip hard enough almost to draw blood as she pondered all the ways her plan might unravel disastrously. Holding the image of the worst-case scenario in her head, she eyed her backpack, where azure blooms lay hidden at the bottom. Following a moment of hesitation, she delved deeper into the bag, retrieving the pouch that contained the Sapphire's breath. Pausing to hold her breath, she selected half of the flowers, tucking them into her pocket alongside Snow's card—a precaution should things take a turn for the worse.
With a final glance around, Hazel stashed the red axe and her backpack in a thick patch of corn. She then drew the sickle from her belt.
Gathering a handful of rocks along her path, Hazel approached the edge of the clearing but remained concealed. After a steadying exhale, she hurled one of the rocks towards the group, ensuring it collided with several stalks loudly. Next, with trembling hands, she grasped a cornstalk and rattled it vigorously until it snapped, collapsing onto itself. The sound felt grating and thunderous. That should get their attention.
Retreating backward out of sight of the clearing and into the shelter of the corn, she crouched low, hidden from view.
Eve's voice cut through the stillness, commanding, "Go check it out."
Channeling her rising anger into focus, Hazel waited as the uneven crunch of footsteps approached through the corn. Grace hobbled into view, her black tangled hair ensnared by the corn's leaves, her face smeared with a mix of sweat and grime. Each of her steps were labored as if she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders, her face etched with exhaustion and apprehension. The fabric Hazel had used as a makeshift bandage still encased Grace's leg.
Hazel scoffed at the sight as if it were an ironic symbol of her own weakness. She steeled her nerves, closing her eyes for a moment, preparing herself for what she was about to do next. Shifting the sickle in her palms, she stared down at her hands, which were accustomed to mending wounds, not causing them. But compassion could not save Silus. The Games demanded more of her—actions that conflicted with the very core of her being. Yet, the thought of losing her brother, of seeing him hurt or worse, galvanized her resolve.
Once she made her move, there was no going back. In her mind, she replayed the possible outcomes, none without sacrifice or pain, but her decision crystallized around a single, unwavering point: Silus's life was worth any cost. She opened her eyes and refocused on Grace. Silus, I'm on my way.
She took three more stones and flung them into the field on the other side of Grace. With a flinch, Grace turned her body to look down the corn rows in the direction of the sound. In one fluid motion, Hazel snuck up behind her and snagged a palmful of her long hair with her left hand, yanking her backward. At the same time, her right hand guided the sickle's blade in front of them, holding its razor-sharp edge to Grace's throat. Both girls were breathing heavily as Hazel held Grace's trembling form. The air thickened with the scent of dirt, perspiration, and dread.
"I think you dropped this," Hazel murmured into Grace's ear. Grace's response was immediate—her breathing turned even more ragged, and the spear clattered to the ground.
"Hazel," she gasped, recognition filled her voice as she swallowed gingerly.
"Long time no see, Nine," Hazel remarked. "Unfortunately, not long enough." With a firm push, Hazel directed Grace back towards the clearing. "Let's go see my brother."
Grace gasped in fear as she stumbled forward. "I'm sorry," she stuttered as they walked, her movements jerking and uneven. "Listen. There were... reasons. I did what I had to to survive... it's not just about me. I wish I could explain."
Hazel gave a non-committal hum as the sickle's blade hovered over Grace's jugular. "Sure."
"It isn't personal," Grace insisted.
Hazel's grip tightened. "What happens next is about survival too," her tone had an icy edge, "But make no mistake, it is absolutely personal."
As they approached, Hazel pressed Grace forward with a nudge. The clearing amidst the towering stalks of corn stretched out before them, bathed in the warm afternoon sunlight that filtered through the dense foliage overhead. Shafts of golden light danced across the waves of corn.
Grace and Hazel made their way into the space together. Hazel's grip tightened on the hair in her palm as Grace's trembling form struggled to remain upright.
Eve and Owen snapped their attention towards the two girls as they stepped into the open. Owen's face twisted in concern, whereas Eve's expression came to life with anticipation.
"You're late, Seven," Eve announced with a flourish of her knife. At her words, Silus twisted to meet Hazel's gaze across Grace's shoulder; his eyes widened for a moment before fear clouded his face. "Looks like someone doesn't listen to their brother."
"My hearing's selective," Hazel shot back.
"Haze, get out of here," Silus called, even as blood streaked down his face.
Hazel tightened her jaw in resolve, sending him a hard, unflinching expression, "Never."
"Coming alone to rescue your little brother?" Eve's smile turned predatory. "Given everyone's obsession over you both, I honestly expected more," she jeered. " You are going to end up just like that District Twelve brat or that pretentious mayor's son from District Ten once Caleb gets ahold of you."
Hazel met Eve's gaze and offered up a short, melodic whistle. An echo of the call emerged from the corn to Eve's right. Moments later, Ethan stepped out, sunlight catching on his blue bow, a confident smirk spreading across his face. His muscular arms were extended, an arrow nocked and aimed directly at Eve, ready to be released at a moment's notice. Ruby was close behind, her small hands clasping her pick, as they both mockingly nodded in greeting towards Eve.
"That District Twelve brat?" Hazel retorted, arching an eyebrow and tilting her head to the side.
Ethan's face lit up as he looked over at Owen, whose arm still leaked blood from a clear arrow wound to the shoulder, "You, my man, are an arrow magnet."
Owen scowled back, readjusting the spear in his hands, rolling his injured shoulder.
"Or this pretentious mayor's son?" Hazel continued. The rustle of the corn intensified as Aaron stepped forward across the space. The blade of his sword was a hair's breadth away from Owen's ear.
Eve's scoff was dismissive, yet beneath it, her confidence faltered as she took in the scene unfolding around her.
"You're outnumbered," Hazel's tone took on a sarcastic edge. "I have to say, I expected more. Though female tributes aren't exactly favored in District Two, are they? That's why Caleb sent you instead of coming himself." As Hazel spoke, she noticed Silus slinking away from Owen's spear. With Ruby's assistance, he managed to stand, facing her with a determined set to his jaw.
Hazel didn't let up. "Did Caleb really think I'd simply give up if you took my brother?"
"I don't know; why don't you ask him yourself." Eve retorted as she retrieved a red, cylinder-shaped object from her pocket, roughly the size of a large marker. Raising it above her head, Hazel hesitated for a moment, piecing together what it could be. Recognition dawned on her just as Eve activated the device. A loud hiss filled the air as a bright red flare, trailing smoke, shot upwards, painting the sky with a glaring crimson beacon. Against the backdrop of the azure sky, the flare burned with an ominous intensity, its bright red hue searing into Hazel's consciousness and igniting a sense of dread within her.
The flare burst at its peak, showering the sky with a brilliant mix of red, orange, and yellow. The sight stole Hazel's breath away, a mix of awe and terror seizing her.
Eve's cold laugh followed, "I won't be outnumbered for long."