Post by QuinnTalon on May 7, 2013 10:59:02 GMT -5
Dylan Jones; Age 14: The Son of a Secret War
"“Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own.”
[/i][/color][/center]"“Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own.”
The bloodbath wasn't very bloody.
Not that he was hoping for that. Dylan wasn't the sort of person who enjoyed The Battle. In reality, there wasn't a bone in his body that wanted to go into that whole mess and kill other people for the privilege of living. And really, that is what it was. They were fighting for the privilege to live.
Dylan had once mentioned something about beginning to learn to be strong, and had only gotten a headshake from his 'Uncle', who said 'Your family has sacrificed enough to this war.' and from his 'Aunt' who had looked downright horrified. They weren't affectionate with him the way they were with their own children, but he supposed they loved him in their way.
And Morgan had been the wisest. 'There is more than one way to be strong.'
The Battle hadn't been kind to them the past few years, and perhaps it would be this year. Zale was strong. Riva was strong. That being said, District Four often didn't take too hard to their Warriors not coming home. They were Martyrs, in their way, and every boy and girl in the District was prepared to face their death with poise and grace, and were affirmed before The One before they turned twelve.
He had no desire to see the inside of one of those Arenas, or to even see The Capitol. Their Warriors had looked downright uncomfortable from The 'Tribute' Parade until The Feast, and Dylan had to agree. People like Zale and Riva should have weapons and armor in their hands. Not those terrible things they were wearing. They were Warriors. Not poppets....
The entirety of the square stood from their seats when Zale was grabbed from his very feet and pulled up into the air. He'd just stabbed one of the Mutts with a spear--a good, solid hit, apparently--and had gotten picked for the slaughter for his trouble. There were cheers when Hyperion grabbed a hold of him. Cheers when he wouldn't let go.
And then the girl from District One got a terrifying look of rage and terror on her face, and she ordered her archers to shoot. To kill the bird that had Zale. So he was important to her. Dylan could see it.
They were on the main screen though, which was definitely a plus. IT meant sponsors and supplies, regardless of where that bird took Zale. He could probably count on medicine if he were badly hurt.
And District 6's Romance was pretty much always on screen. A big part of him was more than a little jealous. If that were he and Morgan, there would be no way they could be together. Then again, if it were he and Morgan and one of them couldn't come home...
...He had no idea what they would do. Who would kill who. If they would kill each other. Hopefully, they never had to know.
But he was jealous, and he hated them somewhat. Because they would be able to be together, and he and Morgan wouldn't be. He'd never wish them into that situation, but at least they could be together.
And not alone.
The thought of it made his heart hurt in a way it never had.. Not even when his parents had 'disappeared'. Not even when he'd heard them yelling and fighting and the Peacekeepers screaming orders and he was hidden safe in his hiding place.
His heart hurt at the thought of Morgan in the Arena. More than the thought of himself, and he had to stand up. Had to look around the square for him. If only to get a glimpse. He was probably not even here.
He hated this.
Hated these Games.
IF their hearts hurt even a bit as much as his did...
He pitied them.