District Four Tournament Day Two: Thayer vs Krigel

The Krigels had triumphed.

Drunk on her victory and slipping into shock, India had hobbled off of the stage clutching her back and immediately vomited onto the medic's lap. "I'm fine!" she'd spat, "I'm fine, I can fight!" but the room span every time she moved and the skin near her spine felt like it was on fire.

Bed rest and bandages and heavy sleeping pills allowed Indi to float into dreams that night, but she dreamed vividly. Arie stabbing her through the neck, of Leo hurling his trident into her eyes, her own father laughing at her defeat. She woke up in a cold sweat screaming and thrashing, ribs on fire.

Hours later, after she'd shaken off her fears and applied enough morphine cream to her back for the wound to reduce to a mild simmer, she twirled her borrowed trident in her fingertips and peered at her siblings. "Nice trident Arie," the girl chided. "Who'd you cry to in order to get that ugly thing?"

Poking her tongue out at her sister, she heard her own name called over the loud speaker. "Least I won without the fancy toys!" Indi sneered over her shoulder, one last stretch of her legs before she took the stage.

Acutely aware of the bandages hidden underneath her new uniform, Indi took a defensive stance and eyed up her opponent - a strong, lean girl with dark hair and malice. "Finally," she muttered as the whistle blew.

"A real opponent."

Her weapon had found a fresh wound, undoing the work of medics. India smiled at that. A good start, but the fight was just beginning. This girl was handy with her weapon, twirling it expertly - it reminded her of her brother, spending hours and hours mastering his own trident and the green envy that had burned in the pit of her stomach.

It seemed this girl was after the same prize: old wounds. India twisted her body to feign a strike to the left but caught herself in the crossfires, a small cry of pain falling from her mouth as the tip of the trident caught her back. It didn't scream as much as yesterday's puncture wounds had, but it still stung enough for her to stumble.

Planting her feet to steady herself, India looked up and narrowed her eyes. The girl asked of her name, sounding a little bored, but at least she wasn't asking of her father.

"Not ever," breathed India, gathering herself to strike.

"I'd rather be somebody than nobody."