ghost of mine — day 6

Distrust was still evidently coiling her, though her weapon didn’t return to a draw in a preparation to retaliate or protect. She, most likely relentlessly, approved of my assistance to a chair, sinking into it with mumbles of the amount of injuries she’s succumbed to over the past two days. Half a grin rolled onto my lips in sympathy, as I met my halfway-to-death mark in the cornucopia alone - while now… the strong heal rather swiftly, and hopefully she fits into that class. “District ten… And my name is Amberly. Angevin.” She had answered me through gritted teeth of pain.

Her surname had definitely rang a distant bell, though not of one that I could reach. A memory from studying past games perhaps? Though the curiosity doesn’t rattle me for long, before her next set of words distracted me from it. “My luck… is just terrible. Meeting you… and your trap. Might as well finish me off.” She complained with an open invitation to ignite another canon, to destroy another enemy. The temptation was surely there, while I passed it with a wider grin and roll of the eyes. What would be the fun in destroying a weakened opponent?

“What’s your name, kid?” She questioned, causing my eyes to bolt her way like daggers. Being the second youngest of the family, my friends forever being older, and a small disposition to carry me all these years, being called a kid had always been a distaste of mine. While my quick glance at her left a light of Kyanite to encircle around her and her words. No point in fighting a battle over someone’s choice of words when there was a different war upon us.

“Gala.” I answered rather blankly.

~ ~ ~

Rawness layers every skin cell on the bottom of my feet, though onward I continue despite. Within the stretch of the land that forms the Arena, my jaw drops in amazement that us Tributes can even find one another to combat here. With miles scarred into my feet from a few hours alone, there’s a sensation of never discovering another for the remainder of my existence - that loneliness may grace me for the rest of my life. But with cameras upon us, a Capitol to please, and a Game to win, there’s no doubt within my mind that a visitor will be upon me soon.

Weaving gentle waterways welcomes me into my next atmosphere of this place, upon muddy grounds of uncertainty. The amount of water bugles my eyes instantly of course, though it’s at least not within the amount the flooded lands caused. There’s a suspicion within the muddy flooring however, while cation carries me wherever I travel. And sure enough the warnings of fellow Tributes ring in the distant - sounding off all of my internal alarms.

Automatically the fingers upon my left hand reach for a weapon, any weapon, wherever my fingertips may draw me. Two new weapons had been discovered the previous night, leaving my possibilities endless to upcoming battles. Naturally my palm discovers the handle grip of an Axe, the weapon fluttering to life instantly at my touch. My heart sings for its comfortable hold, hefty weight assuring its strengths, and its altogether promises. Finally I return to the certainty I held back in Two.

Gentle sweetness of a shadow bounces around the rocks within a river, innocence faulting her from where she truly is. It’s Porcelain to no damn surprise, the one who slaughtered Alexander - with apparently no care in the Panem by the looks of it. Anger tightens my grip on my weapon, my feet moving faster towards her. But there’s two Tributes ahead, Porcelain’s weapon carving for their skin. My eyes roll the moment I realize who the second Opponent is, the girl from last night… Ten with history.

My weapon bounces in Ten’s direction in gesture of my distaste. “Don’t get the wrong idea now. We’re still not friends - and I’ll still slit your throat.” The promises is repeated, before my focus and the point of my weapon returns to miss innocent Porcelain who’s skipping around during wartime. “But first, I have a vendetta with you. I told you I’d make you regret killing my boo.” Seriousness rages through my voice with a small bite of humor to go with it. Without a single second thought my weapon aims for Alexander’s killer.
 

With genuine curiosity my Axe stands before my eyes, raised by my concerned grip, for me to stare at it intensely. Blood stains upon its blade, strength radiates from its bulkiness, promises sweat from its surfaces - yet it now leaves a mere scratch upon my enemy… upon Alexander’s killer. Pity sinks my vision down it, a tis tis sound humming from my sealed lips in disappointment. “So my advice clearly isn’t as powerful as my vengeance.” Notes curl past my tongue aloud as a mental reminder, before my findings are distracted by my success in pissing off another.

“You bitch!” Amberly insults with rage fueling her words. “Next time you decide to double cross someone…” Now she’s stampeding my way in form to attack, clearly not believing my intentions aren’t to kill her. “don’t.” She warns while her hammer bashes for me. Somehow I manage to slip slightly past the full force she’s clearly trying to induce, a deep bruise across my skin being the only outcome. It stings in a pulse to no doubt, while it’s no more brutal than the spars back in Two.

Unfortunately Amberly herself isn’t as lucky this round in weakening the weapon to collide against her. My teeth clench harshly at the blade to cross her forehead, and blood to pool from it. But she’s purely a fellow tribute, who doesn’t even believe in me being uninterested in slaughtering her at the moment, not allowing my sympathy to extended to her any further than the wince. With Alexander no longer occupying this Arena, there can be no care to who now dies within it - though there is a preference on who’s canon fires first. My attention returns to the chipper, deadly Porcelain.

Hatred points my weapon in her direction again. “I want to know your name. I want to know why you were skipping from stone to stone like you’re not on war grounds. I want to know why you’re truly sorry.” Because perhaps the answers to that will explain to me the rage I feel towards her. But before a single question can be addressed, my axe dives for her blood.
 

Strength finally returns to me, moments before it no longer matters. Again the strive of my axe buries deep into the leg of Porcelain, closely to the same spot that I brutalized at the beginning of this battle, just beneath the knee that Amberly had broken. It nearly marks one of her limbs to decay, while it’s not enough to destroy the entire body it’s attached to. And when Amberly wields her weapon to choose her life over Porcelain’s, it’s not enough - missing entirely in an almost certainty that it’s the Brunette’s time to perish. This time I don’t wince, I can’t.

A mere scratch claws across Amberly from Porcelain’s blade, and though its minor - it’s the final straw. For the briefest moment my breath is held in wonder of what’s to happen, as Amberly sways in a threat to collapse to the unforgiving mud beneath us… and sure enough she does. Silence coaxes the air around us, stillness encircling us all in a time that we all know what’s occurring, but are unsure of how to handle it. My eyes pierce in Porcelain’s directions, rage furrowing my brow with the vengeance I didn’t obtain.

Vision returns to Amberly, knowing my chance for revenge has been postponed for another day. There’s a temptation to fall to her side, to comfort her through her passing. But she’s not Alexander, she’s not one of my Sisters, and she surely isn’t Kyanite. “I told you I wasn’t trying to kill you. Not yet, not till I had to. But it seems like you were the one searching for death all along.” I share with her while my eyes stare deeply into her own, before they shift back over to Porcelain’s one last time amongst this battle. “And I’ll still make you pay for killing Alexander. Don’t think that just because you’re walking away today, that I won’t fulfill my promise.” Is warned before I turn my back on yet another gruesome battle.