Key to the Knight Tower {K v GS v D v B v SK | Day 4}

For once in this arena, D'Arcy's dreams felt entirely her own. There were no kings or knights, no grief or tiredness. No unknown characters playing out their stories in her mind. Instead D'Arcy dreamt of home; she was sitting at the table with her family, Cecily on her left and Evvie to her right, her parents loading the table with a feast of the rich delicacies that she had loved so much in the Capitol. She could see the love in the eyes of her family, all looking at her as if trying to memorize every detail of her face. D'Arcy was still wearing the royal garb of the arena, yet to be marred by the marks of dirt and blood, and her sisters traced the gold leaf patterns on her tunic.

D'Arcy's dream had ended with her family walking her to Prince Froggington, who had turned into his human Prince form and was waiting with Percival at the door. D'Arcy had felt a pang of sadness as she hugged each member of her family tight, waving goodbye to their shrinking faces as Percival flew them up up up, out of District 6 and out of the world of dreams once more.

The sadness lingered with the cloud of confusion as she awoke, finding herself hoping despite hopelessness that if she looked around the woods she'd find her family hiding behind the trees. Instead it was just her, curled up next to the warm body of Percival, with a still-froggy Lord Froggington content in her bucket of things. She wasn't sure if the heaviness she felt was due to the sadness, the fatigue, or something else. Her body felt strange this morning; it was almost as if she had woken up in someone else's body. Her arms and legs felt foreign and clumsy. She decided to check her ankle again, searching again for the cool grey mark and finding it where it had been the day before. No rain or wind had managed to wipe it from her skin either. D'Arcy was frustrated to have to add it to her list of things to be worried about, along with killer teenagers and deadly flower attacks.

Having Percival now was at least something good to add to the day. She didn't have to waste the little energy she had on walking around the arena now that this great pegasus could carry her farther than she'd gone before. "Alright Percival," she nudged at his muzzle fondly, "let's get out of these woods." He snorted his acknowledgement and soon the pair were speeding through the flowery underbrush in a flash. D'Arcy had no sense of what direction her steed was taking her, but she felt that she could trust his instinct and his direction better than her own.

Soon she could spot their destination appearing on the horizon. She could feel the pull of its gravity coaxing her closer and closer, her eyes landing on the tall tower waging war against the plants taking root all over its stony surface. Even in its crumbling, ruined state D'Arcy felt it was beautiful. A tower fit for a princess like her. After all, weren't there fables all about princesses in towers waiting for their knight in shining armour? Maybe this was where she was meant to be all along. Maybe she was a princess returning home after becoming her own knight.

Getting closer to the base D'Arcy noticed the cacophony unfolding, spotting a sea of now-familiar faces. There were the District Six girls again, locked in battle with a boy she recognized as Kristof, the District Nine boy she met in the library. A little distance away was his District partner Baby, who would surely see the battle any moment now. D'Arcy wondered what would be stronger for the doe-eyed girl; the bond of a District partner or the allegiance of surviving together against the deadly petals. Or perhaps none of it would matter at the end of the day.

D'Arcy hesitated for a moment as she watched the clatter of weapons against skin. This seemed to be a battle between Eight and Nine and them alone. Either that or the nature of the Games had finally brought out the deadliness of the tributes. D'Arcy remembered how it had been another night without a face in the sky. Another night without death, another night survived but nowhere closer to salvation. Perhaps the others were as antsy as she was at the thought that there was still so much more battle to be fought before she could go home once more. These tributes were swinging to kill, and it wouldn't take much for those weapons to turn to her, too.

She paused, took a deep breath, and urged Percival towards the action instead of fleeing from it. To flee was the easy way out, the coward way. She could leave and simply find herself in worse danger than she was in now; to fight was inevitable. The girl she was at the start of the Games was not the girl she was now. She had survived the cuts of the arena, she had found her familiars. She had a sword that seemed built for her. And now here she was at the foot of the tower that was calling her name. She was willing to fight for her life now, she was confident in herself that she stood a chance now more than ever. She would be her own knight in shining armour in this story.

As she neared the other tributes she hopped off of Percival's back, bringing her sword down as she landed on the ground. Whatever truce was established in the forest had stayed behind in the throws of yesterday. Today was about getting closer to getting out.

Nothing really matters anymore. Dying is inevitable, and maybe that's the entire purpose of this, but his thoughts are thrown away in the blink of an eye. It's near impossible to focus on anything other than the task at hand. But why? Why is anything worth it? Why will anything ever matter?

He sighs and puts the spear away and pulls out the blade. It can assist him, maybe in ways that others can't, but even then, Izzabel catches him off guard completely.

"Why do you care so much? She has to die if you want to win. Your priorities are wrong."

He shakes his head, and then in that moment, he lays eyes on his district partner and a smile forms on his face knowing she's okay. Knowing that's she's alive, but it all changes in a moment before anything else can happen.

"Watch out!"

Kristof ducks and closes his eyes and that's the biggest mistake ever. All that happens is the snapping of ribs as Cynder crashes into him. He blinks and takes a deep breath to prevent himself from screaming and turns his attention to Baby once more. "Get yourself out of here. I'll hold them off."

He turns back towards Izzabel.

"Since you're more concerned about her, I'll just kill you instead."

He picks up the blade and swings.

 
table by Dars <3

D'Arcy was surprised at how smooth her sword cut through the air, landing itself in the flesh of one of the District Eight girls. Up close she could see the girl was already in rough shape; perhaps the flowers yesterday had cut her deeper, or perhaps D'Arcy had been more effective at keeping her cuts clean and in a state where they could heal. New cuts now lingered on her body, D'Arcy's fresh among them.

For a moment guilt started bubbling up within her - this was a girl who she was running alongside only short hours ago, together in a fight for survival against nature. Was this how D'Arcy would show her thanks, cutting up a girl already sliced to pieces? Then the cut of another blade struck D'Arcy through the shoulder, white-hot with the pain sent down from the fresh cut. D'Arcy turned in time to see the blade's owner rush past her, her blonde hair unmistakeable. Baby was on a beeline for her District partner, and D'Arcy had been in her way.

The truce from the day before was truly no more.

D'Arcy was torn on what she should do. Part of her was scared now, alone with two pairs from two Districts. What would happen if she stuck around, threw her weight into the battle that was unfolding? The pain throbbing in her shoulder shouted its warnings of the danger these others possessed, how quickly she could end up dead at their hands. Would she be walking foolishly into death's trap?

That's when the great Stone Knight made its presence known. D'Arcy could tell there was more damage to the living statue since she had seen it; more gaps where there was once stone, more cracks in the smooth surfaces. And yet it seemed as powerful as ever as it brought its sword down across Baby's leg with a force that was sure to have done lasting damage to the girl.

It was a sight that sent ice down D'Arcy's spine; she wanted away from here as fast as possible. She could see Percival a safe distance away, it would be a quick sprint across the field to her loyal steed and she could be safely away from this carnage. She had tasted the pain of a blade now and would be happy to never have to feel this pain again.

Boom.

A cannon sounds in the air and D'Arcy stops herself before she breaks for it. The first cannon of the game. Death has fallen on the arena. D'Arcy looks at the fight again to find the District pairs both intact and battling it out. The death had been somewhere else; somewhere unknown, perhaps in a far reach, perhaps close by. It was a sign that D'Arcy had been naïve in thinking she could run from the fight; death could find her anywhere in this arena, no matter where she ran.

So maybe it was better to just put up a fight.

D'Arcy steadied herself, her sword back at the ready once more. If death was after her, she would be brave and face it. She would put up a fight. She would be a tribute tried and true.

With the swing of her sword, she would make herself a part of this fight.

Everything hurts, his entire body, his very existence, and maybe that's the heaviness, the fogginess, yet his mind races and focusing on anything is tough at the moment. Perhaps it's fear, perhaps it's something else - he doesn't know, but stopping it seems impossible when nothing matters.

He turns around trying to free himself from everything that's going on, only there isn't an escape. He's faced with his biggest fears, and everything that doesn't matter anymore, and his world is broken, turned upside down, and maybe that's why.

I just don't know if I have it in me anymore.

"Unlike you, I've accepted defeat and death, and if that means getting her out of here, that's what I'll do."

He stumbles around feeling everything becoming difficult. His heart pounds, it echoes throughout his skull, and the ringing in his ears grows loud.

"And no, I don't hate myself. I've just realized that my life ends here, so I'm not going to cling to false hope that it'll get better because it won't."

He looks between Izzabel and Cynder, and he sees how close to dying she is, and maybe that's what he needs.

"Maybe if you didn't have your head so high in the clouds, you'd see the same for your district partner because she isn't going to last forever. Just look at her."

He picks up the blade and takes a deep breath.

It all comes down to this.

 
table by Dars <3