A Game Of False Fates ✭ Cato Hadley

Three - Cursus Honorum

The justice building had hardly changed since last year's reaping, only an additional golden notch added to the top of the gable to signify the district's newest victor. The check-in desks are swarming with teenagers, each having their blood drawn and being ushered into the usual places within the crowd. Parents of the selected volunteers are waiting in the first row of spectators, loudly hyping up their children's skills to the gambling addicts lingering around the square - who are already preparing to place bets on the tributes. Clio adjusts her maroon blouse, fiddling with the twist at the front of the halter neck and smoothing down her slim-fitted black trousers before brushing her hair back and tightening the half ponytail. She walks alongside Cato through the aisle in the middle of the square to reach the side of the stage where the other victors all wait, passing her sister at the edge of her row where the best performer in each year group always waits.

Then as the clock tower chimes out for two o'clock, the mayor steps forward to begin his speech, playing the usual video for the district, one that everyone over the age of fourteen could recite word for word. Clio waits for the mayor to conclude this speech, eyes trained on her sister's form in the crowd until the man begins to introduce each of the District Two victors. One by one they step forward, waving to the crowd before taking a seat in the chairs lined up at the back of the stage. As Clio sits down and the crowd returns to silence, Xanthe Corvus, District Two's escort, replaces the mayor at the front of the stage, tapping on the grille of the microphone to focus everyone's attention. Her navy blue beehive bounces as she walks and complements her indigo ensemble, dress hanging from one shoulder and extending outwards into an opulent purple balloon made of chiffon and silk. Her giant navy shoes are so tall that even she wobbles slightly while she walks, seemingly defying gravity to reach the bowls. Her smile never falters, wide and beaming and glistening in the sunlight, as her enthusiasm carries throughout the square.

"Hello, my dears." Xanthe says jovially, leaning forward into the microphone with a bend of her knees and clasping her hands in front of her. "May I wish you all a very happy Hunger Games!"

The cheers of the district makes Clio smile a little. Even the smallest of the children standing with their parents at the back of the square move their little hands together to join in the series of claps and cheers as Xanthe moves towards the bowl filled with girl's names. Clio watches from her seat as Xanthe's hand dives into the glass ball, her manicured fingers swirling around the pieces of paper - as if it really mattered when the name read out wouldn't be the girl entering the games, unless it was the volunteer.

Clio doesn't register the name that Xanthe reads out, instead she finds herself counting.

One. Okay, that's normal.

Two. Don't panic.

Three. Shit.

Four. Come on Ebony.

Five.

"I volunteer!" An all too familiar voice calls out of the crowd of girls all packed together to the left side of the stage. Shit. No. Fuck, Clio thinks, making eye contact with her sister and she watches her raise her hand. Out of the corner of her eye, she watches the girl whose name was read aloud let out a held breath before her gaze finds Ebony who stands at the edge of the row at the front of the seventeens and she scowls at her. If looks could kill then District Two's academy would have one less seventeen next week. Xanthe smiles at Clove as she is ushered to the stage, still smiling as she walks up the stairs to join her at the top. Clio's face is pale.

"What's your name, dear?" Xanthe asks expectantly as the attention of the whole central population is focused on the stage.

"Clove Kentwell."