flames across the sky // nekane's speech.

Change is patient. Change is slow. The juggernaut of the Izar dynasty knows this well. He has sat at my kitchen table, hands laced across my own, time and time again. Asking for counsel, or a shoulder to lean on. Sipping cold tea, diluted by his tears. Four months ago I was given his blessing to finish what he had started. Fifteen years strong, with fifteen lifetimes to go.

I didn’t know what to do with it, at the start. I would be lying to say I had never imagined myself in his shoes. But I think I always knew Vasco was the better suited for leadership of the two of us. The shadows have welcomed me, made me the leader of their own world; I’m most comfortable in my own four walls, in my own skin, where I’m not forced to wear the coat of the Capitol. So long as there was an Izar at the apex of Eleven, I was content to watch from afar.

But then Vasco had shared with me his plans to make this his final term, and the door started to swing shut on our legacy. And sure, maybe a Rhodes or Persimmon in power would mean well, but they were only half of the story. They’re not Izars. We are the lifeblood of this district. They didn’t know loss and suffering like we did.

So I’d let Vasco talk me through the hoops I’d have to jump through in preparation for candidacy, a quiet thrill humming deep in my veins as I responded to the patient, prodding timbre of his voice. Until suddenly, it’s your forty-seventh birthday, and three days into this new year of your life, you’re standing on the stage in the District Square trying to remember how to breathe.

My hands tremble as I grip the microphone for dear life. Somewhere, Vasco is smiling encouragingly at me. I know this, even if I cannot see anything a metre past my face. The best thing I can do is focus on the air. Feel the way it starts to shift around my body, as I close my eyes, breathe it in.

Power. It tastes like honey.

The words come easily, then:

“Today… is a sad day. A day I wasn’t sure might ever come, if I’m being honest.” Eleven loves him as much as he loves them. They would have kept him at the top of the helm until he lay on his death bed, and then some. I chuckle softly to myself at the thought of a ninety-year-old Vasco shuffling across the stage and attempting to lead the charge of his twenty-fourth riot.

“Five years ago I sat over there, in the second row, listening to Mayor Izar announce his final run for presidency. And five years ago, I remember thinking the exact same thing you probably all did: okay, sure, very funny, see you at the next election! But that’s one thing we all know about Mayor Izar – he’s a man who delivers on his promises. Once he makes his mind up about something. It’s rare that he doesn’t follow through.”

“Vasco has built a legacy that will outlive all of us. He has achieved more in his tenure than any Mayor before him, and I would challenge you to find another District Mayor who is as committed to their home as he is. He has been a constant advocate for change in the lower Districts and for improving quality of life, ruling with powerful drive and a gentle ferocity.”

“Of course, you already know all of this. Which is why I wanted to take this opportunity instead to divert from the past, and look towards the future.”

“My name is Nekane Izar. Like Mayor Izar, I know many of you well. You are the friends I have made over the years in the fields; the neighbours I’ve shared meals aplenty with; the children I have minded before I had a girl of my own to cherish.” Somewhere in the crowd, Ines will watch silently, stone-faced. She’d called me a hypocrite this morning – a fraud who only cared about myself. The worst part of all: I couldn’t defend otherwise.

“I have lost, time and time again, like so many of you have, in ways that are cruel and never fair. And yet, it is these hardships that build resilience and have prepared me as well as anything else could to bear the awesome weight of leading our people.”

“I love my home, and I love you all. It breaks my heart every year when one of our own collapses in the fields from dehydration or sunstroke. I pray every night when the Games are on that we will come home with a Victor once more. There’s just too much death here – it’s not sustainable.” These days, the cemetery is overgrown with weeds, the corpses now beginning to outnumber the gravestones. There is only so long we can continue to tread water for.

“But we can change that.” I nod to myself, almost imperceptibly, holding tight to the promise I made myself all those years ago, after one Izar too many had succumbed to their cursed fate. “I want to bring families closer together than ever before, not have them continue to be torn apart. I want telephone poles that allow communication with loved ones. I want more readily available medical attention for the ill and suffering.” I’m so, so tired of death. “I want the quality of life to climb as quickly as our predicted life expectancy. I want our children to be able to fight for what is right, what they dream of. I want our citizens to live the happy, fulfilled lives they deserve.”

“So yes, today is a sad day. But I also think it is a day for remembering. A day for celebrating just how far we have come under the reliable and reverent rule of Mayor Izar, and how we will continue to flourish in the years to come. And with your support, I promise to do everything in my power to step into the large, well-worn shoes of our outgoing Mayor and continue building the legacy of Eleven that we have all worked so hard for. The community spirit here is indomitable – I feel it burning brighter every day. Thank you for keeping our essence alive, and thank you for putting your trust in me. I will not let you down.”