𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀 | 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬

𝟎𝟒. 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬

— 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐮𝐬 —

━━━━━━ ☽【❖】☾ ━━━━━━

I left the medical chamber immediately after our little group had deemed the area safe; instead, I found myself surrounded by the safety of the training chamber once more, pacing as I tried to clear my mind.

It was ridiculous really—that I considered a training room a safe space, but it represented the world as I was most familiar with it. I understood how to manipulate the cold steel that lined the walls more than the herbal remedies that had rested on the stone shelves of the other chamber.

I'd been forged by blood and sweat to take the necessary steps of winning the war no matter the cost... yet I'd abandoned the virtues instilled in me from birth a little under an hour ago.

My hands continued to tremble as they had since I first cut Juneaux this morning during our sparring session. Even this morning felt like it had been ages ago, but perhaps that's because I was still sleep deprived and consumed by exhaustion. Whatever strength I'd had left had been used to battle the serpent muttation that invaded our sanctuary.

There were only five of us left, but it could've been four or less had I stood back and watched the beast ravage the home of those that had taken me in. And I call it a home since that's what it had become.

The gamemakers believed that by sending us into the arena surrounded by the wild that we'd revert back to the innate habits of our ancestors' savagery, yet this small group had rebelled against those thoughts and instead formed their own little dysfunctional family unit. I'd seen it in the way they spoke and addressed one another, but the thought returning to their homes in the districts wasn't even considered anymore. It forced me to question how poor the lifestyles of the lower districts were that their citizens would prefer this spectated cage of death to the homes they'd been born within.

And perhaps my own mind was betraying me with a secret longing to belong here and escape the fate awaiting me should I survive the games. I understood I was an outsider—an imprisoned enemy slinking through their ranks until my use ran out. And the thought never bothered me until following that fight when they embraced one another and just as I'd always been, I remained alone.

The sound of a voice quietly clearing provided the unfulfilled desire for a distraction and separated my present consciously from my thoughts. I turned toward the entrance of the chamber where Juneaux stood, staring at me with uncertainty.

I was the first to break the moment of eye contact, turning my face toward the ground as I cleared my own throat and walked to the other side of the room.

"No more training today," my statement was more of a request as I began separating the pile of weapons that had remained on the floor; all the while refusing to look at her once more. "I was serious when I said you needed sleep... It's been a long day."

"I'm not here for that."

I'm certain there was some shock evident in my expression as I turned to face her, still hesitating to lift my eyes to meet hers. "Then what are you doing?"

"I wanted to thank you," she replied. The way my brow furrowed must've been taken as an invitation to draw closer because she did. She marched across the room until she stood mere inches away. "You saved Harlan's life. I owe you."