To Blossom Gods and Goddesses // Fall From Grace vs. Mutts

c y r o .

No, I'm not afraid to disappear
The billboard said the end is near
I turned around, there was nothing there
Yeah, I guess the end is here

Evening comes with an ultraviolet sunset that bleeds across the sky where a gem filled field lays with a quiet group of four survivors. The sun setting makes him feel alone; much more than the past few weeks had. Arabella was home, but even she wasn't apart of his real home. Lysander reminded him of his father too much, drunken and filled with no clue of what really was going on. Meredith Strauss was different from him, built from a family of fighters and legacies born from ash. The thought almost makes him laugh, when he pats the side of his outfit, realizing there's a pocket carrying something that he didn't notice before.

An envelope resides in his hands, the lettering on the front makes him tear up already. A single word written in the blocky, scratchy handwriting of Xander Krane. Part of him wants to scream out to the gamemakers and beg them to tell him that his son was still in Eleven, but he doesn't. The moment comes of biting his tongue and letting the taste of iron bleed the thought away. Hands shake with a grip tightly around the envelope as he begins tearing it open gently, to make sure the envelope can still carry what's inside. Eyes scanning the piece of paper that falls from it, knowing it was real.

Real enough to be his son's, but part of him was stressed about how they got this. Holding the letter in the direction of the dipping sun, he stares at the first word. Daddy. A single word to break his heart, but he could tell it was off, someone had helped him write it. The blocky, scratchy letters were more like his cousin's once he reads the inside and the heartache comes heavy in the air, as he absorbs every word that he can. Wilson Izar-Krane had finally done something for him; a reminder that even people who hated him could change with time.

Daddy,

I miss you! Uncle Wilson got me a new paintbrush set to paint with! He told me I should draw you a picture, so I did! It's you, me, Uncle Wilson, Cousin Katie, and Cousin Lud! I hope you like it, Daddy. Uncle Wilson says you'll be home soon or else, but I don't know what that means. He told me you made a mistake and that when you do come back, you'll have some booboos. I'll kiss them better for you like you do for me, Daddy! Uncle Wilson is fun and I wish you were here to play with us! Lud and Katie took me out to the fields the other day and we played hide and seek! I won at seeking, but Katie was the ultimate seeker! I hope you come home soon daddy.

I miss you.

I love you, Daddy.

Hope you come home soon!

Bye!

With Lots of Love from Your Son,
Xander

(P.S. I wrote this for him. He told me what he wanted to say, I just translated. Don't think about dying. Your son misses you a whole shit ton more than you miss him. Survive this and we'll talk. Love you, cousin)

The anthem sounds in the background as the last bit of light goes away. The letter back in it's envelope leaving behind tears along his cheeks where he swipes at them hard and fast, ignoring the throbbing of his nose and eyes that surely were going to have nasty bruises for the next few days. Eyes glance up to the sky, wondering if he'll see Zenia Siella from Three, but instead there's no faces. The anthem ends with the thrum of his heartbeat knowing he heard a cannon the day before. Loud and popping in his ears almost frighteningly so, but no faces meant only one thing.

No deaths.

Twenty three more people standing in his way from seeing his son once more.

Sitting along the edges of the gems, staring at the twinkling through the night, fingers still remembering the feeling of digging a hole for the trap he had set. It's beautifully quiet in the arena; a whisper of his own thoughts begging to take over, but instead he bites down the self loathing he carries, blending in with the sheen of gems and moonlight skies. It's quiet, until Arabella Shirley speaks up, asking about how he can't sleep. Eyes glancing to her noticing how much younger she looks under the moonlight where dreams dance in their visions. Stars glowing behind clouds, a certain beauty and peace amongst the sky.

"My face is why I can't sleep. It's still throbbing."

A silence fills her as he goes back to staring at the stars, wondering if Levi was up there, watching him in this field of gems and heavy hearts. Once upon a time, he used to dream of meeting his cousin, pretending like the world would have been better around him. Stories passed down from his mother and father in the peaceful moments of the house. A young Cyro Krane learning of the garden his cousin used to plant every year; filled with crops made into sweets and family dinners, but no longer there. Memories of the days where he used to pretend the world wasn't as grim as his father kept trying to instill into him. Nights spent on the shabby roof stargazing with himself and sometimes the stray cat who meows at him for comfort.

"Ah, can I ask you something? Can you tell me more about your son? About Xander."

Xander. His angel. His son. Arabella wanted to know more about him. Cyro could talk for days about his son; the way he learns, the smile he gives that's so pure, the new words he learns daily, and every single thing he does on a daily. Instead Cyro smiles, heart full at the memories flashing across his vision, the words spilling from his throat. "Of course. He’s well, he’s kind of an angel to me. It’s strange at times because Xander’s really been the only good thing to have happened in my life. He’s rambunctious and can get on my nerves quite easily, but that’s apart of who he is and I love him for it. I-I miss him a lot." A tear pricks at the edge of his eye as he quickly wipes it away, continuing his words. "This is the longest we’ve been apart since he was born."

Arabella reminds him of the little sister he always dreamed of having, but deep down, he was glad he never got one. His father would have ruined her life just like his own. Arabella's words are honest, filled with understanding. A difference from others, but Cyro Krane had written off everyone in the world for so long. "I can- I think I can understand the sort of pain you are in. I have spend everyday missing the parents that I never knew..." She fiddles with the cuff of her coat, revealing to him that she's an orphan. Eyes glancing up and trying to read past those eyes, but he can't. Instead it's replaced with more curiosity as her words spill.

"What about his mother? What happened to her? What was she like?"

Amira Lockhardt had been everything he was not. Strong. Brave. Confident. Stubborn. Emotional. Not afraid to show her vulnerability. Amira had changed his life in a whirlwind of love and change; she changed him forever and for the better. His future wife is what he told his mother, despite the way his parents adamantly begged him to find someone else. Xander had spiraled his family down the drain, but back then he was afraid to be a father. Amira picked up the pieces of him left and fit them back into place. She had been his world back then, until he let himself grow too comfortable.

He had let his father take away his entire world.

The other half of his heart buried ten feet under.

A smile breaks on his lips as he wipes away the tears in the dark, avoiding eye contact until he was comfortable enough again.

"Amira passed away when he was born. She was perfect. A woman who truly knew how to grasp at the things she truly wanted. Amira used to walk around with her head held high as if the world was in her palms." A pause as the memory of his confident girlfriend who ran the world in the palms of her hands until she didn't. "She died because of my father. My reckless, alcoholic, stupid father who hated me. Wanted me to suffer like I had made him with just being born into this world. Amira fought him, fought against him when I wouldn’t." The scream echoes along his skull just as loud as before. "She just couldn’t fight anymore."

Cyro Krane was why she had died.

Letting her scream burn in his ears as he cried in a ball on the floor of his Nana's house. Alone with a crying baby in his arms, Xander's cries of life being the only thing keeping him steady. The strength to get up the next morning as the Keepers came; hiding the bag behind them, asking for the truth. Cyro Krane had spilled, showing the evidence he had. Remembering the night in full detail, he had his father avoxed. Only for his mother to scream weeks later at him. Slowly, he's back to Arabella Shirley in a field of gems and moonlight. Suddenly changing the subject to avoid his own fear of the past catching up with him.

"Xander was her idea for a name. Defender of the People. Fitting for a boy who’s mother defended everyone else. She loves him, I have no doubt about it."

A whisper of a breath on the end of his lips.

"I swear she’s there, always watching us when the wind blows through our hair..."

Almost as if her hands were still running through his during the late evenings, Cyro Krane wished he could feel them once more every time. Tears prickling more on his eyes as he can notice a few in Arabella's. A soft cry in the shadows of the night where the moon and the stars glitter back at them. Clouds shaping the arena in a darkness, but still light enough for him to remember the days spent on rooftops laughing to days end about nothing and everything. Just teenagers who had to grow up too fast; the world truly glowed brighter sometimes.

"It sounds like you loved her very much. She sounds like such a strong woman. A kind woman. I almost wish that I, myself, could have had the chance to meet her." The slight smile making him smile back to Arabella. "I think that Xander is lucky kid, to know that his parents love him so much." Lucky. Cyro knew Xander would be loved the day he was born and he prayed to whoever could hear him that he would be loved until the day he died. She rolls to her side now, staring at him for a moment. "I hope that you make it back," It's so quiet, but he barely makes it out. The guilt building in his chest from the words. "I obviously don’t want to die... and if I do make it home, I promise I will make sure that he is okay... but... I hope he gets to see his dad again." Cyro watches as she closes her eyes; reminding him of the way Amira would drift off to sleep quietly. Fingers almost daring to run through Arabella's hair, but he stays in his spot. "I think I could die happy, knowing that my death meant that a father was reunited with their child."

The smile is almost haunting, but he ignores it for the stars. Eyes scanning the clouds trying to find the ones Amira would point out to him. Words slip from his lips as he looks down to the quiet and almost peaceful girl from eleven. "I'm glad you don’t want to die. I want to get home to him, but I knew the risk of the games." Eyes staring seriously at her for a moment as he continues. "As long as you don’t throw your life away for me, I can live with that." Eyes glancing up towards the sky as he thinks of if he had met Arabella sooner back in eleven. Amira would have loved her. A smile pulls on his lips as he finds the north star that Amira had pointed out every night. "I wish you could have met her too. You both would have been good friends." His eyes glance back down to her as he reaches over, gently and brushes a strand of hair out of her face and behind her ear, knowing she's asleep now. A whisper upon his lips as he smiles softly at his district partner.

"Goodnight, Arabella."

---

Morning comes with a rising sun and the promise of a chill. Fingers splayed through the grass as he pushes himself up into a sitting position, cracking the joints in his neck to let himself fully get comfortable. Eyes glancing outside of their camp as he can see something. A flicker of a ghost or a hologram, he's not entirely sure what it is. A face that eerily looks like his own and he can hear a whispering of words that resemble his own, but he bites down the haunting feeling as he goes over to shake each one of the girls; knowing his odds were better with more than one person at his side.

"Uh, girls! I think there's some weird shit going on!"

Once they're awake, all of them decide to get the hell out of there and head somewhere else. The gem field could be left behind from them; Cyro wanted to escape whatever was following them. Eerily, the things follow them, step by step, keeping enough of a distance to make him feel as if they are never going to be alone again. A deep breath as he holds the sword in his hands out. And once they leave the field of gems, a wind picks up, slowly. A field of petals before them until they walk farther and farther in to see them rise higher and higher.

It's pretty, but also part of him is worried about how safe it really was.

The wind reminds him of Amira, hands running through his hair, petals gently grazing his cheeks as if it were her. A chill runs down his spine as he notices strange plants surrounding them. Trees with color exploding at the edges of their branches, until the storm is still where a pond resides, quiet and a reflection of himself. Cyro Krane is almost relieved to see water in this storm, but part of him feels like they're being watched. The sound of a hoof rings in his ear as horns slam into his chest, noticing the plants growing in the wake of whatever antlered beast the capitol has sent on them. Another creature he's never seen appears like guardians of the storm. Gods and goddesses protecting the pond at the center; they strike all three of them, leaving Meredith alone.

"Fucking hell, don't just stand there, we've got mutts to take down!"

A moment of hesitation wasn't needed as he swiftly moves in the direction of Arabella, avoiding the other two mutts and his allies. Boots igniting to fly forward towards her, knowing that she was just as much his family now as anyone else. Arabella Shirley was the little sister he always wanted. He wasn't about to let some fire breathing creature dare take that away from him now. Fingers grasping the sword tightly as he swings with the rays of the sun peeking over the edge of the horizon. Pinks and oranges mixing together on his blade as he strikes with his heart; full of the soft memory of their conversation the night before.

Xander Krane would love her.

Even if he didn't make it home, he hoped she would.

The world needed more people like Arabella Shirley.

l y s a n d e r .

Darker times will come and go
Times you need to see her smile
And mothers' hands are warm and mild

Flashes of brilliant pinks and shining silver.

Twigs that had come dangerously close to her eyes. The storm raged on around them, but for once she had nothing to complain about. It was too beautiful, too magnificent to use a hateful word against it. She hated storms at home. Too many times did their windows rattle as the wind shook the foundations and the rain beat against the windowpanes. Too many times did she hold her half empty bottle tight to her check, the thunder drowning out her sobs. Too many times did she beg for the storm to take her, to put her out of her misery and bring her to Hazel at long last. But this one had no ordinary traits, this one did not remind her of home.

It was mesmerizing.

And even with a fight going on in front of her, Lysander could not seem to take her eyes off it. They were in the center, the eye of the storm and it was oddly peaceful. There was only an occasional loose branch of leaf that came through the battle. Other than that nothing seemed to disturb the center. On all sides was an array of colors, and she was only broken from its trance when a heavy object came crashing down on her forearm.

Lysander hadn't remembered picking up the odd piece of armor, but she was more thankful than ever for her drunk antics. The vambrace absorbed most of the impact and she smiled as her arm remained unharmed. The others had various scrapes and bruises, but for the most part seemed okay. Some of the mutts were looking a little worse for wear and she said a silent thank you in her head. Arabella had missed but it seemed that Meredith had hit her mark.

"Ah, so you're not as useless as that 1 suggests, huh Mer?"

A laugh escaped her lips, but it was cut short as the largest branch she had seen yet came flying towards her face. She ducked quickly, the piece of wood barely missing her eye. The sudden movement unsettled her stomach, and it took all of her willpower to keep the riled up acid down. There was still no water to be seen, and she didn't want to curse the others with unpleasant breath.

Especially when they already had to deal with her presence.

""Kill one of these mutts, Lysander and you can have a nap!"

A smirk played on her lips and the grip around her Geode Star tightened. Even after such short time they seemed to understand her. There wasn't much in this world that motivated her.

Not now that Hazel was gone.

"Deal. If there's one thing in this world that's better than not dying, it's naps."

A nod at Cyro and a war cry that seemed to be carried away in the wind and lost in the dance of colors that swirled around them. If there lives were not in danger this place could be quite beautiful. It may even be the perfect place for a final rest.

She would have to inform Meredith of her request.

"Sorry, but I really need this nap."

m e r e d i t h .

Darker times will come and go
Times you need to see her smile
And mothers' hands are warm and mild

The arrow lodged itself into the beast’s front leg, and Meredith scowled, that wasn’t good enough. The frown on her face only deepening at Lysander's comment. She was normally really good with a bow, the crossbow should have only been a minor adjustment to the years she’d spent training with a longbow. A few more shots and she’d have it down, but by then they all might be dead. She might have a death wish, but the others didn’t, so she had to pull it together. Not for herself, but for the lives around her, who demanded more of her, who needed more.

She swallowed, heart beating gently as she looked around at the situation. They had space around them, the roar of the storm couldn’t even drown out the screams of the monsters. It made her blood chill, and she realised that her training had never taught her how to fight mutts. A sad smile found its way onto her lips, all the training she’d done in her life hadn’t made her perfect and capable. In a house built from destruction and chaos, her mentors had never once taught them how to fight mutts, it was only ever against other human beings.

Arabella comes flying in her direction and Meredith dove out of the way, as Arabella tumbled ungracefully into the dirt beside her. Flames spewed into her direction and Meredith dived, leaping away to avoid them. Pain lashed against her arm and she gritted her teeth, cursing, a quick and angry “fuck.”

It never helped with the pain, but it was always better than crying. Only the weak cry, Victor would say. He wasn’t wrong. Meredith was weak, she definitely cried, it’s just that she couldn’t really aim straight if there were tears in her eyes. So she held them at bay for now.

Arabella landed with a heavy splat and Meredith glared at her, ready to snap at her with an angry lashing. She bit it back, Arabella wasn’t one of her siblings, the young girl from district eleven had never learned how to wield a weapon. She had never learned how to fight, how to move her feet, dash out of the way, and survive. Her gaze softened as she scrambled to her feet, offering Arabella a hand.

“Hey, you alright?” She asked.

She dragged her ally back to her feet, brushing off Arabella’s apology with a stiff nod. It didn’t matter, they were in a fight, shit happened. At least three of them would die, and Meredith already knew she would be one of them, she just had to get used to the pain now.

She was sure that whatever these mutts or these tributes did to her, it would hurt much less than dying in a dirt ring back in district two.

Arabella called her name, and Meredith glanced over at her, fingers pulling another bolt into place on the crossbow. She moved backward, she needed space between herself and the mutts. She watched as Arabella gave her a grim, serious look before saying, “this one is up to you and me.”

Meredith thinks it might have been almost comical in another time and place, watching as Arabella gripped the sword that was too big for her. As she watched the girl who looked both terrified and yet, utterly fearlessly she jumped and lunged at the mutt.

“Don’t let me down, Bella,” Meredith grinned and fired.

c y r o .

No, I'm not afraid to disappear
The billboard said the end is near
I turned around, there was nothing there
Yeah, I guess the end is here

Silver cuts crimson to match the pink petals glittering by.

The grunt of effort that escapes his throat mixes with the breeze; a voice in the distance where the strange ghosts watch with their faces hits his ears. Eyes glancing around to the storm they stand in. Hearts beating over and over again with the same worry as before. A deep breath of air as he swears under his breath at the sight of the other three with him. Lysander responds to his offer; words as filled with exhaustion as he felt right now.

"Deal. If there's one thing in this world that's better than not dying, it's naps."

A nap sounded wonderful, especially in the mysterious serene center of the storm they're currently in. Petals fluttering in a dance of colors; a breeze that's cold, but relaxing enough to make him feel better. No heat to surround him in the fields of Eleven where his sweat streaked skin would scream for a cool breeze to calm him down. Eyes glancing back to Lysander as he nods back, watching her swing forward with heavy hit to the monster they're fighting.

"Sorry, but I really need this nap."

Lysander Mae deserved her nap after that strike, but the creature still flies with fire in it's breath. The burning sensation in his chest reminding him of what he's fighting for. Xander's big eyes and giggles throughout the day. Katelyn had thought he was stupid and deep down, he really knew he was. Just another stupid boy who's risking it all for his son to survive. Eyes glance to Arabella as he watches her strike finally, silver mixing with the pink petals as if her blade were apart of the storm itself.

Meredith aims and fires, but he watches as the arrows miss from the breeze. A laugh almost wants to break from his chest, but he knew that Meredith Strauss was still a career. They didn't take well to humor from what he's seen over the past few games. His voice still breaks out as he watches the creatures prepare for their calculated strikes on them.

"C'mon Mer! I've seen my two year old aim better than that!"

The laugh echoes from his chest as he gives a joking smile to her. The breeze catches him off guard when the bright creature comes down on him. Blood is the first thing he can see as it splatters from his chest, the beak pumps venom into him. Poison flows through his veins and he feels sick now. Pink petals mixing together as the storm rages on around them. Xander was watching. Bravery was made from the heart. The fire in his chest burned as he pulls the sword up. This meant war now as he can feel the crimson dripping from his chest, the cut in his cloak now being prominent.

Pulling the sword up, he glares at the dragon shooting fire down onto Lysander; red hot and filled with a desperation to live. It was either the mutts or them. Cyro Krane wasn't going to let it be them. Heart beat in his throat, pushing himself back to a steady step as he pulls the sword forward, cutting at the dragon. Venom spreading through his veins as he feels a sweat start to break out more. It was going to be a long day and the pain was only going to get worse and worse from here.

"Fucking hell!"