07.

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vol i
chapter seven

Theia had spent most of the night fiddling with wires, making traps. Sleep was impossible; she knew it would have been plagued with nightmares of her impending doom. What type of terrain will she be thrown into? What types of horrors would they release? It wasn't enough to sit in solitude, contemplating; she had to keep herself preoccupied.

At dawn, she is collected for breakfast by Rafael; it is their last chance to discuss tactics and for him to give advice on what is soon to come. He, Beetee, and Ambrose would not be joining her and Evan in travelling to the arena. Instead, they'd be at the Games Headquarters, trying to win sponsors and working out strategies for when to deliver the gifts.

Her mentor is encouraging her to eat as much as she can, but she's finding it a difficult task.
"When the gong sounds, you get out of there. Do not go to the cornucopia. It will be a bloodbath. When you make it out, put some distance between yourself and the others, and find a source of water."
She nods at Rafael's words, taking them in. "What about supplies?"
"Grab the one nearest to you and run. Theia, you cannot freeze up in there. Some of those tributes will be looking for you; you can't let them get anywhere near. You're agile. Get away quick."

Before they know it, Capitol people are there to collect her and Evan.
Ambrose takes their hands, with tears in his eyes, and wishes them well. He thanks them for being the best and first tributes he's ever had. He's kissing their cheeks before hurrying out of the room, overcome with the emotional parting.
Beetee gives her a brief hug and words of encouragement, reminding her of her exemplary brain and abilities. He's expecting to see some impressive displays.

Rafael is the hardest to say goodbye to. He embraces her tightly, protectively. He cannot find the right words to say.
"I'll see you when you win kid."

~

The tributes are all boarded and strapped into their seats on the hovercraft. A woman inserts a tracker into Theia's forearm; she winces at the sharp stab. The journey lasts about two hours before the windows are blacked out, the arena being near.

When they arrive, she and Blayse are ushered underground and through the catacombs, being led to the chamber for Theia's preparation. She's urged to eat again, but cannot find herself able to stomach much, only taking sips of water.

Blayse pulls her hair into two tight french braids, then helps her dress into the outfit—simple black trousers, a sturdy brown belt, a light cream blouse, and a thin hooded palomino beige jacket. The stylist takes note of the material, informing Theia that it's lightweight and waterproof. The boots are made out of strong leather with steel toe caps and infiltration-resistant midsoles. A hint to the climate.

Theia is surprised when Blayse pulls her firefly pendant out of her pocket, placing it around her neck. "As always, a finishing touch." She can't help but be reminded of her family. Would they be watching? Could they stand it, seeing her get hunted down?

A voice announces it's time to prepare for launch, and reality quickly sets in.

Theia can feel her breathing becoming shallow and her palms sweating. Blayse grabs them, pulling her in and giving her a fierce hug. She holds on tight to her stylist. "Thank you for everything."
"If anyone can win this, it's you; show everyone what you're capable of."

The voice announces a minute to go to launch.

Theia moves to stand on the circular metal plate, giving Blayse's hands a final squeeze. A glass cylinder lowers, breaking the hold. She gives one last determined look before rising upwards into the arena.

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