the madness of the daring // zane v. nixie

It's hard to describe the feelings that overwhelm me when Cedric's face flashes across the sky that night.

Relief, for sure, that there will never be a chance for our two visions of the future to collide in an epic battle, that I'll never have to choose between my own newfound selfishness and that of the one boy in this entire arena who helped me forget about the pain, if only for a moment. Grief, for in losing that boy, I feel like a part of my soul has gone quiet as well, the same way that pain ached inside of me when I lost Cara as well, the pain of losing someone who, despite their own flaws, changed me for the better. And hollow emptiness, for setting out on a campaign, vowing to kill his district partner and remove his Achilles' heel for him so that if it came down to it, he would have one less obstacle that might slow him up in his path, all of that effort amounted for naught other than another notch on my shoulder, another murder to stain my soul.

It's probably a good thing I found my own reason to live, to push on, to excuse the very acts I'd vowed never to do back home, to accept it as the cost of salvation, when I did. Otherwise, I'd be a very broken man indeed.

Well, moreso than I already am. You get my drift.

Cedric's isn't the only face that shines that night, as is custom for the top eight moving into the top four - there's the kid from Eleven, Arthur's partner, finally named as Abel, and the kid from Ten who'd stabbed his brains out - Maddox. And of course, Cedric's partner. In retrospect, I really wish I'd asked her name and heard the pronunciation from her own mouth, because juggling whether to refer to her as sin-ee-add or sigh-need is going to torment me for the rest of my life, I can tell.

Funny how on the first day it was my impromptu teamup with the Sixes that resulted in their dying before me in a fateful suicide charge that really kickstarted my journey through this arena, and it was yesterday that the two Twelves marked the end of two of the first kids to make their mark on me within the arena. And me, the Nine, caught in the middle, surviving and thriving nonetheless.

The anthem fades. Twenty kids, familiar and unfamiliar, from Bastian Fray to Cedric Hardin, lay dead. Three remain, and I honestly hadn't bothered to keep track or keep count, so their identities remain a mystery.

But one thing's for sure. My last chain to the arena, my last reason to search for death instead of cling to life, my last inhibition in the face of anything my bleeding heart could not overcome, have all been overcome.

Nothing within me can stop me now. Not even the throb of pain in my bandaged arm, courtesy of Sinead's last gift, can slow me down.

To the rest of the world, I remain as I appear, a skinny kid from Nine who came from nothing and has survived this far through sheer luck. But I know better. Every trial that's threatened to drag me down, every intrusive thought that drove me to end my life on someone else's blade, all have failed to bring me down. Cause why?

Cause in the face of my own adversity, I'm fucking invincible.

---

When I leave the crater basin in the morning, I find myself astounded by the appearance of yet another unique landscape set out in front of me. I've found myself in a forest and a swampland and a set of plains with a single rusting building breaking the monotony of the horizon, but never have I found myself upon an expanse of sand. And never before have I seen sand painted so bloody in the rising sun, stretching out for miles on end with only the odd break in the landscape.

It's a fitting place to make my penultimate stand, I decide.

The rain has ebbed by the time I make my trek, and the heat has returned in all of its sweltering, choking force. My shirt is stripped within minutes, wrapped around my head to keep the sweat out of my eyes like some sort of ragged bandana, and I almost regret setting out in the heat of the day, knowing full well that come sundown I'll have sweat my bodyweight in water out.

But I don't regret it in the end. Because, as per the Gamemaker's plans, my solitary trek finds itself interrupted in the most welcome of ways.

It's not a surprise to see the figure approach, knowing that killing Sinead yesterday marked only the first trial out of three I'd need to overcome in order to get the crown and secure my newfound opportunity in life. What is a surprise is who it turns out to be - for once the girl from Four makes the transition from vaguely humanoid blob on the horizon to an actual living, breathing person, I can't help but laugh.

Trial one involved me overcoming my heart by killing the district partner of the only person in this hellscape I cared for. And now, trial two appears to be giving me the chance to do what few people in Games history, victors or otherwise, have ever accomplished - complete the Career set and live to tell the tale.

"I was hoping it'd be you!" I laugh into the heat once she's close enough to become threatening. This Career, this girl from Four, is a wholly different ballgame from Sinead Williams, who was a soft girl from a soft life before all of this shit went down, and so she requires a wholly different approach.

One where words and actions must go hand in hand, forcing me to awaken every ounce of latent skill within my tired body and every possible advantage I can use, dirty or otherwise, must be exploited to even give me a chance at escaping this victorious.

"You know, back home, I bet they're callin' me Careersbane, cause none of ya can figure out how to escape me with your lives," I quip, bandana-shirt fluttering in the wind. Even the environment is different - I can't count upon howling winds to send the crossbow bolts fired my way off course. "Every time one of y'all has come for me, it doesn't end well for you."

I smirk my megawatt smile, only half-pretending this time due to the sheer anticipation of the fight to come. The calm before the storm, one might call it. "Let's see. Iden Averill killed one of my allies in the bloodbath, so I took his life in return. Anarchy Mer - your district partner, right? - and Nylon Gingham came after us after that. I took her arm and his head, just like-" I swing exaggeratedly at thin air "-that. And at the end of it all, when Bastian Fray and Elizabeth Manford tried to come for me, they couldn't so much as touch me." And oh, I'm definitely playing with fire here, but since when have I ever avoided the chance to go after a little risk? "The girls died before they could try and avenge their so-called Career honor, and you saw what happened when Bastian tried to do the same."

Playing the game, doing the taunting before she can get into range, all of it is a delicate balancing act. And if I time it just right-

"So really, I don't see what hope you think you have." Eyes dilated, chest heaving, careful, Zane. "But I thank you for giving me the chance to complete the set. Things were a little lonely after I offed Twelve's girl yesterday."

-the tension will snap, and I'll charge before she's ready.

Cause in a fight like this, I need every advantage I can get. And like yesterday, that starts with being the first to draw blood.