#why are we supposed to want to join the capitol's academy?

[thesweetnessofspring]

Once again the Hunger Games/TBOSAS marketing team doesn't seem to understand they are participating in what the book is criticizing.

[axiina]

PLSSS soft corio comforting reader after they get he saves her(or them idm) from the arena after she tried to say a proper goodbye to her tribute (kinda like sejanus) but maybe she gets hurt and super traumatized but hes there for her idk

If I Killed Someone for You

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x capitol!reader (gender neutral)

Summary: It wasn't supposed to end this way. You just wanted to say goodbye to your tribute, Lamina. Luckily, your boyfriend was there and made sure you didn't get hurt. Just why do you look at him differently now?

Words: 1.5k

Themes: hurt with comfort, a bit of fluff but also angst

Warnings: slight spoilers to movie and book, small changes to canon, Pup isn't Lamina's mentor, character's death, murder, a bit of trauma, blood, comforting, a bit of argument, death, overthinking, reader feels guilty about situation, referring reader as 'you'

Author's note: Lamina deserved better so you are her mentor, fuck this idiot Pup.

It was supposed to be fluff, but it came out a bit sad and traumatic. We got a soft Coriolanus, leaving aside the fact that he killed someone in the process. Enjoy!!

It was a pure act of desperation.

You just wanted to tell Lamina what you hadn't managed to do before. You had grown close to the young girl, who was horrified by what was happening. The very fact that she was in the arena, alone, without any support was driving you crazy.

She didn't deserve what happened to her. You hoped that maybe Lamina would be able to win and would be able to return home to the family she missed so much.

With each hour of the Hunger Games, her chances seemed to get smaller and smaller. For those few days, you sat like you were on pins and needles staring at the big screen at the Academy. After a while, the helplessness returned and you had to try not to cry in front of the cameras.

Lamina did not deserve it. None of the tributes deserved it. You did everything you could to make Lamina feel as comfortable as possible during the meetings and her stay at the Capitol. In the arena, you tried your best to make sure she wasn't hungry or thirsty. You didn't want her to get hurt. That, however, was not enough. Seeing a boy from her district, Treetch, joining another group made you feel anxious.

"What if they kill her? What if he betrays her…" This thought ran through your head repeatedly like a mantra.

She became weaker and weaker every day.

Your last meeting was too short. You didn't have time to say goodbye to her properly. You wanted her to know that even though you were physically somewhere else, your heart and thoughts were with her, at the arena. You had to say goodbye to her. You wouldn't forgive yourself if Lamina died without hearing a proper goodbye.

That's why you decided to see her one last time. Under cover of darkness, you crept into the arena in disguise and quietly snuck under the beam where Lamina was. Perhaps foolish and reckless, but you didn't think about the consequences. Ever since the girl got to the arena you couldn't find a place. You slept only short naps and didn't even want to meet Coriolanus, who was getting more and more worried about you.

While you were at the arena, every now and then you looked nervously around to the sides to see if anyone was coming. Lamina was surprised when you showed up. It was all surreal and you felt as if you were detached from reality. As soon as you saw Lamina you started crying. You both cried. Now the knowledge of how dangerous the arena was came to you like a powerful punch. She can't die. You don't remember what exactly you told her. You don't know if you said anything that made sense to her at all. The adrenaline made your mind kind of foggy. However, you know that it lifted her spirits. She knew you were with her and supporting her. You don't know exactly how much you were in the arena.

Everything happened so fast when Coriolanus grabbed your arm. Your brain didn't even register the fact that the boy appeared there practically out of nowhere. He looked terrified. He spoke quickly and incoherently. You only understood as he begged you to run away from there, because at any moment someone might come out of the tunnels and kill you. You were frozen with panic when it came to you. They hate the Capitol. They hate you too, and they certainly wouldn't think twice before killing you. Your fear was increased when Lamina's eyes widened in horror and only one word came out of her mouth.

Run.

Tributes began to leave the tunnels. As soon as they noticed that there were two mentors in the arena they started running towards you. Because of the adrenaline in your veins, you don't remember much of what happened next. You and Coriolanus ran as fast as you could when Coral, Mizzen, Tanner and Bobbin chased you while holding objects in their hands that could be the cause of your upcoming death.

The next scene that stuck in your mind was when your boyfriend hit one of the tributes on the head with a wooden plank. The boy fell down, and Coriolanus, without thinking much, hit him a second time. Then another and another. You looked at the body of Bobbin lying lifeless and Snow standing over him, unable to get a single word out. Your heart was raging and your head was spinning, feeling fear. You were terrified.

You couldn't tell what was the reason. The fact that you had just nearly died in the arena, or…. no, it couldn't have been that. He was merely trying to defend you. Yes, that was definitely the reason. Coriolanus is not a murderer, he was just…. he was terrified and acted emotionally. Bobbin would have killed him if Coryo hadn't done it first. Then you would have been next in line. Yes, that's what would have happened.

Both of you were injured, but at that moment it didn't even cross your mind to ask him how he was feeling. The Peace Keepers almost carried you out of there. Your parents were as terrified as you were. By the time you were sitting in your room wrapped in a blanket as your mother hugged you crying something finally hit you. You could have died. Your family would have been devastated. Your friends and…Coriolanus. Well, exactly, Coriolanus. He almost died because of your fault. Your stupidity and recklessness. Now he is injured and probably suffering, and you are not there with him. After what happened you didn't even say a stupid thank you to him.

"What were you even thinking! You could have died there! Did you even think about your loved ones? About me? What would have happened to me if you had died there? If I didn't get there in time!" Coriolanus repeated walking in circles around the empty classroom, the next morning. You had your head bent down, and tears were running down your cheeks. How could you do something like that?

Coriolanus sighed and sat down next to you, wrapping his arms around your body, pulling you closer.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't yell like that. You're probably still terrified. I was just…scared. I was scared that I would lose you."

It seemed to you that his voice cracked as the boy pressed his cheek against your head.

"Don't do that again. Don't scare me like that. If you had died I wouldn't have forgiven myself. I wouldn't be able to live normally." He whispered in your ear with a trembling voice.

"I'm here, love. I will always be until you have had enough of me. Although, most likely, even then I won't give you a break." A quiet, slightly trembling chuckle left his lips, at which you also smiled involuntarily.

"Enough of you? Never." you replied in an amused voice gently pulling away, but still remaining in his embrace. "I'm sorry, Coryo…I'm so terribly sorry for you. I just wanted to say goodbye to Lamina. I don't want anything bad to happen to her. I don't want her-"

"Shhh, it's okay." Coriolanus rested his forehead against yours and took your face in his hands gently stroking your cheeks. "It is past. The most important thing is that we came out of it alive. Lamina is also alive and relatively well, excluding the circumstances."

"Thank you, Coryo. Thank you for everything. For saving me that night and that you do not resent me for it." You whispered, trying not to cry. You nuzzled your cheek into his palm and placed a gentle kiss on it.

Coriolanus' face moved closer to yours and he gently brushed your lips with his own as if he was afraid he would frighten you.

"I am angry at you. Earlier even furious, but I love you too much to stay mad at you." Coryo gently rubbed his nose against yours and looked into your eyes.

His beautiful blue eyes. Cold, but at the same time it makes you feel at home. Eyes that yesterday were raging and at one point…full of hatred.

Your smile slowly disappeared as you remembered what happened to Bobbin.

"Do you want to talk about what happened yesterday-" you started uncertainly, but Coriolanus cut you off.

"No." His voice seemed cold and in a moment you were embarrassed and your heart beat faster. You were the reason he had to do it, and now you're reminding him of it. Maybe he thinks you are blaming it on him.

Your thoughts, however, were interrupted by your boyfriend's voice. Softer this time.

"I didn't mean to. I didn't want to do it, but it was stronger than me…Please don't hate me. I love you and I did it for you too."

His eyes were glassy and he seemed panicked. You shook your head in denial and took his hand in yours bringing it close to your lips and kissed his knuckles.

"No, you're a good person, Coryo. Nothing has changed. I continue to love you, and you only proved me during the night that I couldn't find a better one."

Coriolanus wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead.

"You know you don't have to…you don't have to be afraid of me. I wouldn't hurt you. Never."

You froze for a brief moment. It was as if he was reading your mind. How could you think that about him? He saved you. If not for him, you would be dead.

It was stronger than that. When he approached you this morning your heart was beating faster and a chill went through your body.

"It's because I love him. Typical reaction" You repeated to yourself in your mind.

Every time you felt his hands stroking your hair while you were hugging, you thought about how tightly he gripped that wooden plank with which he cracked the head of the boy in the arena. How the blood spurted onto his snow white shirt from his school uniform. And those eyes. The eyes that always made you feel butterflies in your stomach, and then they seemed so unfamiliar. You thought about how later after the situation at the arena, he tried to approach you, and you took a step back with your eyes wide open in horror.

Of course, he knew. You don't need to read minds to know that. And he was intelligent. He knew right away.

"I know, I know, Coryo. It's just…" you knew that if you continued your voice would break. Besides, you didn't know what to say. You snuggled into his neck hugging him more tightly at the waist. You don't want to hurt him with such thoughts, but they are so intrusive. You can't get them out of your head despite his reassurances, affectionate words and gentle touch. "I'm sorry, I should be there for you, and I'm making everything worse."

You whispered soaking the collar of his shirt with your tears.

His hand went to your hair gently stroking it.

"Stop, it's not your fault."

You stayed like that in each other's embrace, in silence. Words are not important now. What is important is that you are together and nothing will change that.

He will not hurt you. Yes, he won't hurt you.

[lavidaesccrta]

Waiting in the wings while Caesar began his introductions and crowd pleasing, Sapphire painted a smile upon her face and straightened out the pastel pink sequins of the floor length gown she wore. Soon enough however, Caesar was motioning towards the wings and calling her name. “The one and only Sapphire Giada! C’mon out and join us.” And so, Sapphire did just that, striding confidently onto the stage and returning the hug that Caesar offered.

“Thank you Caesar,” she smiled brightly, moving to sit as the man did the same.

“So, Sapphire,” Caesar began, sitting forward conspirytedly, “can you tell us how you received your training score? It was pretty impressive.”

Diamond gasped in mock shock, hand over her chest as she sat back a bit. “Now Caesar, I think that’s against the rules.” She chuckled. “All you all get to know if how great of a score I earned.”

Caesar nodded in agreement, rolling his eyes playfully as he too sat back in his chair, crossing one leg over another. “Fine fine, you are right, dear Sapphire. It never hurts to try though. Okay, how about this - alliances. Do you have any?”

Sapphire shook her head, “Nu-uh. I plan to go it on my own. Easier that way, especially with only twelve tributes out of the gate. We’re already half way there, thanks Madame President.”

“That is very true.” Caesar agreed. “So then, are you ready to go into the arena? Do you think you have what it takes to win?”

Now it was Sapphire that sat forward, elbows on her knees, very un ladylike. “Obviously I have what it takes. I’ve been training for this since I convinced my mother to let me attend the Academy. I’ve been ready for years.” And she felt as if she had been. Her mother may not have wanted to her to volunteer, but it’d always been Sapphire’s intent.

“Well, Sapphire… a little birdie has told me that you weren’t even supposed to volunteer. There was another person back in One who was supposed to volunteer. Is that correct?”

Sapphire’s smile fell off her face at Caesar’s words, a slight frown turning down the corners of her lips as she thought about that particular fact. “Your little birdie would be correct, Caesar. I wasn’t supposed to volunteer. But that wasn't because of my lack of skill or the academy, but because my mother has too much influence at the academy and she did not want me to volunteer.” She didn’t want anyone in the Capitol thinking she couldn’t do it. It already bothered her enough that her mother didn’t think she could.

Caesar seemed to take that in, letting out a sympathetic sound before continuing. “Well, if Diamond didn’t want you to volunteer, then why did you? Volunteer that is?”

“I volunteered because I know I am more than capable.” Sapphire huffed, irritation growing, “I want to prove that to my mother, that I can and I will do this. I am just as capable as she is and just as capable as Mrs. Santos and fucking Diana.”

Caesar blew a puff of air out, looking to the crowd with widened eyes. This was getting juicy and would sure be the topic of gossip in the coming days. “Alright, take a deep breath Sapphire. Take a deep breath and tell me - why should the sponsors fund you?”

Sapphire’s eyes narrowed. She did not care for being patronized. “Well, I did get the highest score in training and except for the kids from Two and Four, I have the training and skills to back myself. Besides that, many of the sponsors already know me and I them. It’s not like this is the first time that I’ve been to the Capitol. There’s also the fact my mother’s a Victor. We’ve had back to back victors before, but never had a legacy victory - and Trixanna doesn’t count. Her real mom wasn’t a victor.” She was beginning to be done with this conversation, ready to sulk off back stage.

“Well then ladies and gentlemen! We only have time for one more question for this lovely lady. Sapphire,” Caesar leaned forward once more, eyes on the teenager, “if you could say anything to someone back home what would you say and who would it be to?” He asked.

“I don’t know if this counts since she’s here in the Capitol and not back home, but to my mom. I just want her to know that she’s underestimated me and tried to keep me from doing what I wanted. I can and will prove you wrong and I will be a better victor too.” By the time the words were out of her mouth, she was already standing and Caesar was quick to follow, not wanting it to seem if she were fleeing.

“Sapphire Giada ladies and gents! Thank you for your time tonight dear girl, and may the odds be ever in your favor!”

Sapphire didn’t spare him any other words before she was quick to make her way off stage, already pulling bobby pins from her hair when she made it back to the wins.

[thebookbin]

The Sunbearer Trials

Aiden Thomas

Publisher: Feiwel & Friends, Macmillan Genre: young adult, fantasy Year: 2022

Me, every time I read a YA book:

I don’t know why I keep convincing myself to give them a try when I have clearly outgrown the genre. It’s probably the pretty covers and interesting blurbs, but yanno. I apparently can't trust myself. I'm an untrustworthy bitch.

Now, being the extremely gay fantasy-lover I am, when I saw the premise of the book I was immediately like yes. This is exactly what I want from a fantasy, a nonwhite setting with fantastical mythology and everybody's just so gay. But it just... disappointed me on all aspects.

I didn't used to be a prose snob, but now apparently I guess I am. I have just read some works that are so well-written that the more juvenile style of YA becomes grating. There were so many "he explained" and "she retorted"s. In my humble opinion, dialogue tags should only be used when there needs to be clarity over who is speaking. Also, what's wrong with plain ol' "said?" IDK it just takes me out of the story. Instead of focusing on what the characters are saying, I am so focused on these weird descriptors that are all over the place.

There are so many expressions that just come from an undeveloped writing style. "Terror gripped his spine" and "The curve of his muscles" were two phrases that I caught multiple times each, and they were so weird. There is an absurd amount of detail paid to clothes and appearance. It very much gives "secret-novel-I-wrote-in-high-school-that-was-lowkey-anime-fanfic."

First is the introduction to Teo. He is described as a troublemaker, but he rarely causes mischief and when he does, it's caricaturistic. His first introduction, he plays a "prank" on the described "bully." But because we don't get to see Ocelo actually be a bully, Teo becomes the bully in my eyes, humiliating them in front of a room full of gods. But literally as soon as anybody says anything to Teo, he gets so offended and cries. Characters constantly feel like caricatures: Niya is the literal stereotypical Nickelodeon Best Friend, like I'm pretty sure her character is just Sam Puckett. Loud, stupid, strong, and loves food. Aurelio, the strong and stoic type. His sister, the stereotypical high school bully, who is even described with a high pony tail!

There's also this weird hierarchy between types of gods. There are Gold gods and Jade gods. Gold gods are supposed to be "superior." But literally the only person who ever talks about this is Teo himself. It gets to the point where we as the audience start to wonder if it's all in Teo's head. Like yeah, Jades have never been in the Trials before, which means he's never had to worry about joining a life-or-death competition. And then Teo complains about not being allowed to go to the "Academy" (cue eye-roll), which is described as a place of abuse, anyway. Nobody literally says anything about Jades being less than Golds except Teo.

The comparison to Percy Jackson and The Hunger Games is so laughable. Both of those series have a main theme of systems of power being corrupt and harmful to society. But in The Sunbearer Trials the system itself is part of a religious order that is deeply rooted in latine cultures. I mean personally, any religion that requires child sacrifice isn't one worth following, but hey that's just me. But this culture isn't acknowledged as bad or flawed, even by the main character, the so called trouble-maker, the one who can see the flaws in the world, doesn't even have a doubt about the way this world is. It's like if Katniss was from the Capitol or Percy if he was more like Luke.

Just the idea of the entire world relying on teenagers à la Hunger Games but not for entertainment or a grotesque commentary on society but to literally keep the apocalypse from happening is probably the stupidest system for keeping the world from ending ever thought of.

There's just so much to say about this, because I wanted to like it. But the clumsy attempts at prose end up seeming like more of a rough draft for a novel than a complete novel in and of itself. I think I would consider reading another Aiden Thomas novel if it wasn't YA, and had gone through the higher publishing standards of the fantasy genre.

storygraph | bookshop.org | local houston

★★½ great idea but terrible execution stars

[undercoveravenger]

The Scales of Justice

Creature Week 2020: Day Five

Pairing: Cato x Dragon Shapeshifter!Male!Reader

Request: “Hi so I just saw your ‘creature week announcement’ and was wondering if I could ask for a hunger games one again lol. A Cato x male reader, but the reader is a shape shifter(turns into a dragon). Could it be a fantasy AU? One where Cato is hired to hunt down the male reader but Cato ends up falling for reader because he sees that the reader isn’t a bad person/creature? I’m sorry if this doesn’t make sense.”

A/N: God, I love dragons.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There were few honors that meant as much as being personally selected for a mission by the Gamemakers, the ruling class of the Capitol. It meant you were talented, skilled, trusted with knowledge about the goings-on of the court, even if only the pertinent details were shared with you. It meant that you could expect honor and wealth upon your return.

Cato supposed that that was why he hadn’t been surprised when the messenger came to find him. He’d been one of the kingdom’s most valued knights since he’d been old enough to join the academy. He had known that it was only a matter of time until he was given a high-stakes mission of his own, but this? To be the one chosen to slay a dragon? Cato couldn’t be prouder of himself.

He was still glowing with pride as he scaled the mountain that the beast had made its home on, though there was a slight tremor in his hands as he approached the wide entrance to the cave the dragon was dwelling in, wide and dark like a gaping mouth ready to swallow him whole. He took a deep breath as he came to a stop on the narrow ledge outside the dragon’s den, steeling his resolve before drawing his sword from its scabbard and  making his way into the cave.

It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the relative darkness of the cave, but he was stunned by the sheer size of the cavern around him. He turned in a slow circle as he took in the towering ceiling and curved walls, easily the size of the grand ballroom at the castle, with every surface carved so smooth that he could almost see his reflection in the gleaming onyx stone. He gaped as he realized that the smoothness of the rock must have been caused by the dragon’s scales and wings dragging over them as it made its way further back into the cavern each day.

His brows furrowed as he realized something even more peculiar about the dragon’s den: there was no dragon to be found.

Cato slowly wandered deeper into the cave, remaining on alert even as he reached the back of the huge room and found that it did not end there. Instead, a sharp turn behind an outcropping of rock revealed a much smaller antechamber that had been dug meticulously out of the inside of the mountain. The smaller room was filled with piles and piles of gold and jewels that towered over him, though unlike the larger chamber, the walls and ceiling of this room were rough, as though the dragon was not in here often enough for its scales and spines to wear away at the rock. The blond was amazed at the sight of the beast’s hoard, though he was still confused; everything he had ever heard about dragons had taught him that they were notoriously protective of their hoards, so the very fact that it had put its hoard in a room it couldn’t even fit in was odd.

Cato whirled around as gold coins came cascading down a pile on his left, brandishing his sword high in anticipation of the great beast itself. He hesitated at the sight of a (h/c)-haired male that looked about his age picking his way slowly down the heap of treasure, clad only in a worn pair of breeches. Cato found his eyes tracing the stranger’s features longingly, fingers itching to reach out and cup his face in his hands and lips aching to tell him that he’d make sure that nothing could do him harm again, for surely he must have been some stolen prince for as handsome as he was.

The (h/c) froze at the sight of him, visibly tensing like he was going to try to run away. Cato could see his eyes darting from the knight toward the entrance into the larger cavern.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Cato called up to him, a soft smile twisting his lips upward as the (h/c) looked back toward him. “I didn’t come to hurt you.” He sheathed his sword and held up his hands to show he meant no harm, unsure as to whether the presumed captive could understand him at all. “My name is Cato, and I can protect you from the monster.”

The (h/c)’s eyes narrowed suddenly, flashing dangerously in the low light as he turned away, carefully making his way down the pile of gold until his bare feet met the cold stone of the cave floor. “I doubt that very much,” he huffed, shoulders tense as he strode further into the antechamber.

“Excuse you?” Cato asked, a little offended. “I’m a knight of the Capitol! I’m sure I could handle myself against an overgrown lizard!” he protested as he followed after the stranger.

The stranger snorted in amusement, though he didn’t turn to look at Cato as he ducked into yet another small chamber, this one with a small fire smoldering in a pit dug into the floor. Sunlight streamed in through a small hole that had been carved into one of the top edges of the room to let smoke out. “I’m sure you could.”

The knight was beginning to think that his imprisonment had driven the stranger mad. “Then why did you say-” 

Cato was cut off by the (h/c) turning sharply to look at him. “I did not say that you could not hold your own against a dragon. I meant that I doubted you were not here to hurt me.”

The blond’s eyebrows furrowed as he stared in confusion at him, “Why would I hurt you? You were put at risk from the dragon the same way my kingdom has been, if not worse. You can come with me back to the Capitol, and then, when you’re feeling up to it, we can return you to your own kingdom.”

The (h/c) rolled his eyes, turning away again and heading for the fire. He dropped down to sit before it and dragged a piece of roasting meat from a skewer that Cato had not initially noticed. “I have never been at risk from the dragon that lives here and neither has your city. The only humans he injures or kills are those that would take his life if he did not defend himself.”

“How do you know that? Dragons are vicious! They’d sooner turn a city into an inferno than live in peace!” Cato snapped, now fully convinced that there was no saving whoever this guy was, no matter how attractive he may be.

The (h/c) raised an eyebrow challengingly, “Then why haven’t I done it yet?”

Cato’s mind went blank as he stared down at him. “Why haven’t- what?”

The (h/c) set aside his food and pushed back to his feet, turning his back to Cato and revealing an intricately detailed pair of batlike wings tattooed down the length of his back. As Cato watched, the ink seemed to dance and shift against his skin, the lines and shapes lifting and spreading as it became three dimensional. As the formerly tattooed wings came to life color faded into them, turning black and white shading into gleaming scales the colors of rubies. Each wing extended above the (h/c)’s shoulders by nearly half his height and flared wide on either side of him.

The (h/c) turned to look at Cato, formerly (e/c) eyes glowing golden with the power emanating from him. “I’m the dragon that lives in this cave. If I were going to destroy your town or the people that live there, I would have done it.”

Cato’s azure eyes were wide as he eyed the dragon, “You- You’re the- But why…?”

“Has it occurred to you that maybe I just want to live?” The shape-shifter’s wings pulled tight against his back, storming back into the treasure chamber. He snatched up a small pouch from one of the heaps and scooped a few handfuls of gold coins into it. “Here,” he held it out to Cato, “Take this and disappear. It should be more than enough to buy you transport and a new start somewhere far away. It’s the same deal I made every other knight that your Capitol sent to kill me.”

The blond’s brows furrowed, a little disappointed in his fellow knights. “That worked on all of them?”

“Not all of them.” Cato was confused for a moment until he understood the remorseful look on the (h/c)’s face. “But I did what I had to.”

Cato hesitated, torn between what his duty demanded of him and what his heart told him. Eventually he found the strength, “You didn’t have a choice.”

“No,” the shape-shifter said softly, eyes fading back to their original color. “But you do.” He held out the bag of gold, “You can take this and leave, or you can draw your weapon and try to do what those before you could not.”

The knight’s eyes flickered between the offering and the hilt of his sword as he considered his choice. He slowly pulled his sword from his scabbard, examining his reflection in the gleaming blade for a long moment before throwing it aside. “What if I want another option?”

“And what would that be?” The (h/c) replied, raising an eyebrow.

Cato bit his lip, lowering his eyes nervously. “I want to understand you better.”

The dragon-shifter’s face remained blank for a long moment, but relief washed over Cato when a pleased grin found its way to the (h/c)’s lips. “That can be arranged.”

[natequarter]

Gallifrey: Lies, Scene 1

BRAXIATEL (voice echoing, accompanied by his footsteps): Romanadvoratrelundar!

[slight pause]

BRAXIATEL (more urgently): Romanadvoratrelundar!

[final pause]

BRAXIATEL (again more urgently): Romanadvoratrelundar! [annoyed sigh] You know full well that you're not allowed down here. To be honest, I'm not allowed down here either.

PANDORA: [echoing laughter]

BRAXIATEL (irritated): Come on, where are you? It's not a laughing matter! The Vaults are a dangerous place to be, everybody knows that. [under his breath] Of course, nobody knows why they're dangerous, we just accept that they are. Oh, of course. [resumes shouting, with derision] Are you questioning things again? Is this what this little jaunt into unfamiliar territories is all about? Trying to find the secrets of the Eye of Harmony? Want to find out where artron energy comes from? All the things that the Cardinals, Deans, and Chancellor Delox tell you to accept without question?

PANDORA: [echoing laughter]

BRAXIATEL: Oh, look, this place is really rather dreary, and travelling about looking for you is getting even more so. If you want to throw it all away, you can. I'll contact one of the Castellans, have guards escort you home.

[slight pause]

BRAXIATEL: Well?

ROMANA: Tutor Braxiatel?

BRAXIATEL (pace increasing to catch up with her): At last. Lovely of you to make an appearance. Can we go?

ROMANA: Very peaceful down here.

BRAXIATEL: It's very dangerous down here. Unstable rocks, uneven ground, and these walls are coated in something... phosphorus, sticky, and probably lethal. If I've just killed myself to find you, I'll be even more angry with you in my next regeneration, understood?

ROMANA (frustrated): I hate the Academy.

BRAXIATEL (deep sigh, exasperated): Oh, Romana. What are we to do with you? Everybody hates the Academy, it's part of the educational process. You're not supposed to enjoy it. Besides, you're Prydonian! You have Chancellor Dellox, enjoyment is the last thing you should've expected.

ROMANA: Why can't I transfer? Join the Arcalians, or the Patrexes?

BRAXIATEL: Because you can't.

ROMANA: What kind of answer is that?

BRAXIATEL: A Gallifreyan one.

ROMANA: But the others in my class—

BRAXIATEL: Your friends?

ROMANA: No, just the others in my class — they hate me.

BRAXIATEL: Why?

ROMANA: Because I'm cleverer than they are.

BRAXIATEL: True.

ROMANA: They're jealous because I'll pass next week's exams with ease.

BRAXIATEL: Of course they're jealous, compared to you they're still Time Tots. You have excellent grades, you are years ahead of them in every subject and you'll graduate to a very high position in society. You are only missing one thing.

ROMANA: Which is?

BRAXIATEL: Common sense. I mean really, what is the point of running down to the very foundations of the Capitol to escape them? You think the ghost of Rassilon will come and give you a hand?

PANDORA: [echoing laughter] Romanadvoratrelundar. We have been away.

ROMANA (surprised): Who's there?

BRAXIATEL: What?

ROMANA: Didn't you hear that?

BRAXIATEL: Hear what?

PANDORA (echoing): Romanadvoratrelundar. I can help you.

ROMANA: That!

BRAXIATEL: I hear nothing other than an intelligent, well-connected student wasting her time — and mine — trying to fight the inescapable. Come. Let's head back. I'll tell whichever dreary Cardinal that is no doubt waiting for us that I took you on a field trip and we got lost.

ROMANA: Why?

BRAXIATEL: Why what?

ROMANA: Why get yourself into trouble on my behalf?

[pause]

BRAXIATEL: Because you remind me of... someone I used to know. Hot-headed, arrogant, self-assured. They used to call me the Icicle during my terrible time here. What do they call you?

ROMANA: The Ice Maiden.

BRAXIATEL (slight laugh): See? Things never change. Now. You look like you could do with some rest.

ROMANA: Possibly. I have not slept well these last few nights. The exams, I've been thinking — I should deliberately fail some so the others will like me!

BRAXIATEL: If you do? Will that help?

ROMANA: No.

[slight pause]

ROMANA: Tutor, thank you.

BRAXIATEL: Come on.

PANDORA: Romanadvoratrelundar.

ROMANA: Oh, Tutor, sorry — wait a moment, I left my datapad in that cavern back there. I'll catch you up.

BRAXIATEL: Don't dawdle. [footsteps as he walks away]

ROMANA: He's gone.

PANDORA: Concentrate on my voice. Listen to my words. Listen to this word and never repeat it. Listen. Imperiatrix.

BRAXIATEL (yelling): Romana!

ROMANA: Coming!

PANDORA: Child, listen to me. Together, we can have a future.

[Gallifrey theme tune begins; scene ends]

[r3nb1rd-blog]

Chapter 1

          Not a cloud perturbed the sunny sky, but that barely dissuaded the chilly spring air from constantly whipping through the southernmost city of Surl. The coastal capitol swirled along the precipices of the sheer cliffs with the wealthiest and most powerful overlooking the horizon. The marble mansions glistened with their balconies daring gravity as they jutted out over the sea, and the government buildings defiantly clung against the cliff faces with their proud flags snatching and stiffening in the winds. The grandeur diminished as the city expanded further and further away from the coast until all that remained was the rail lines and beaten down paths which led into the forests. Everything about the architecture was meant to draw attention to the sea and the gods that the inhabitants worshiped. Nothing could compare to the blinding dome which protected the temple port nor to the extravagant pulley system to supply it.

          When the majestic unmanned ships left every midday to send tributes to the Gods, observation decks were filled with the devout and the simply respectful. With the twelve chimes on the clock tower, the riches of the Surlians – vibrant fruits, thick wools, wondrous ballads – sailed gracefully towards the edge of the world on the tail of prayers. Only rarely would the ship contain humans, as rarely would a human be considered worthy to join the Gods.

          It was considered the greatest honor to be chosen to join the Gods in Athua. An ornate envelope laden with accolades, along with a protective charm for the journey, sent from the Gods themselves would be presented in a grand ceremony in the Parliament building. The most recent the receive such honor was the unit which had won the war against the Norrians six months ago. It was the least bloody conflict in years; of the 10,000 soldiers sent, only 2,000 Surlians perished in the fighting. Five brave warriors secured the decided victory only a month into the fighting when their swordsman removed the head of the Fifth Prince of Norr, the condition for winning the conflict. Surl would now enjoy favorable trading and a war tribute. The peace would last four years, until the next war would occur and Surl would once again fight against the Norrian heathens.

          Outside one of the larger mansions, two men stood on a white marble balcony, neither saying a word as they watched the tiniest fleck on the horizon disappear over the edge of the world. One leaned with his arms seemingly relaxed over the banister. The other stood stoically by his side mindlessly turning over a rectangle in his hands. They kept that comfortable silence for several minutes afterward, a silence that only comes after knowing one for many years. The breeze that tugged at their loose clothing would have tousled their hair as well – if not for the short buzz which just gave tell to black, curly hair on one and the slicked down blonde locks of the other. These styles, as well as the relaxed-but-not-relaxed postures revealed their military status to most Surlians. Of course, all Surlians knew this pair – for they were the dark, lean leader and the pale, stocky second of the team which had boarded the ship that morning.

          Very few realized that the ship which should contain five passengers only contained three, nor did the two remain in disagreement with the others. Indeed, they celebrated victoriously with their teammates the night before. Drinks, laughter, and reminiscences filled the bar in the third underground layer of Lapa, known for its superior food. The past six months had been similar, with party after party, dinner after dinner, and blessing after blessing. When the three left the other two in the early hours of the dawn, it felt as if there were nothing left to say. But now, when the reality of splitting up had become unavoidable, the tiniest hints of remorse flickered in the men’s eyes. 

            “Do you think they’ve reached the Land of the Gods?” The blonde asked, twirling a well-read envelope by its corners between his thumbs.

            Malik snorted. “They’ll be falling for at least two days, if the tales are correct.” The corner of his mouth twitched up. “Do you think Esteban started to squeal when the ship began to tilt?”

            Wilhelm roared with laughter. “Without a doubt, Captain. Adrian probably pissed himself once the free fall started.”

            “And I’ll bet Yessenia is already fed up with the both of them and wondering if she’d still be welcome amongst the Gods if she threw them over the side.”

            “Or just questioning why she went in the first place. Though I doubt those thoughts will last long when she remembers the luxury and riches waiting for her.” Wilhelm took on a tone of nostalgia. “She never could resist the idea of idleness and pampering. You would have thought she was a Norrian princess reborn. Remember when she broke up with one of her boys, and she made us serve her for a solid week? All because he called her a masculine brute. She made me massage her feet for hours. I don’t know why I just didn’t say ‘no.’”

            “Probably because she would have murdered you otherwise; though when she finally snapped out of it, she did try to make up for it. Remember her cooking? It was atrocious, but we managed to get through quite a good deal of it. I think I might have ‘accidently’ dumped my plate on the floor.” Malik reminisced, shaking his head. “I keep telling myself that saying goodbye is something we must be prepared to do, but I always thought we’d part through death.”

            “Agreed. I always thought Yessenia’s axe would find my skull.”

            “Nonsense; surely Adrian would have poisoned you first.” Mal shot Wil the lopsided grin he so dearly loved, before turning his attention back to the sea. “Sometimes I think we were more at war against each other instead of with the Norrians. I thought that those times would make this easier. And yet now that they are gone, I feel like we could still have a dozen more years to say goodbye, but it still wouldn’t be enough.”

            “I wish we were still on the Battleground. As horrible as that might be. Actually, I still remember how easily the Fifth Prince parted with his head. I am perfectly fine waiting four more years to experience that again. I think I would rather go back to the First Academy.” Wil sighed. “I feel like a piece of me is missing. How are we supposed to just forget that and replace our comrades? They became our best friends. Closer than family.” Mal looked at loss for words. His dark chiseled face filled with the rarest of uncertainty. Wilhelm stiffened, and asked a pointless question. For what is done is done. “Do you think we should have went with them?”

            Malik shook his head, bronze eyes focused on what they couldn’t see in the horizon. His resolution had met protests when he first brought it up, Wil included. His teammates tried so hard to persuade him otherwise. When it was clear he wouldn’t accept the invitation of the gods, and that such an outlandish act was not unprecedented, Wilhelm decided to join his captain. ‘Down with the ship,’ he would joke to the others. But unlike Malik, he had yet to discard of his envelope and charm. He still remembered the calculating glare of Malik’s father when they announced their plans.

            “Then do you think we should have convinced them to stay?”

            Malik once more shook his head. “I think what we did was right. There’s more I’m meant to do for Surl; I can’t leave the military just yet.”

            “Even if it means you can’t join the Gods ever again?”

          “Fate seems cruel like that.” Mal smiled sadly. He took in a deep breath of salty air.  “Are you sure you should’ve stayed with me?”

            Wilhelm rolled his eyes and punched his leader’s shoulder, the later only giving way for show. “Without me you’re a flailing mess. I can’t morally justify leaving you to your own devices. Who else will keep you from blowing up our allies?”

            “In my defense, it was a very poorly made map.” Wil raised an eyebrow. Mal threw up his arms up in exasperation. “Fine. Thank you, Wilhelm. I would probably blow up my allies without my Second, and only the great Wilhelm is able to stop me from my own idiocy.”

            Wilhelm gave a self-satisfied smirk. “Now. You have your own merits, I suppose. You said you’ve reviewed the files of eligible team members. Have you narrowed down candidates? I personally believe that Ulises of the 5th group would be a good addition – oh, give it up. What’s that look for, Mal?”

            Mal cringed. “Well, ‘eligible’ might be a bit of a stretch. I’ve decided on a rather… unorthodox collection of individuals.” Wilhelm narrowed his eyes, looking just about ready to lecture Mal until sunset. “Here, it’s probably best if I show you the files myself.”

            He pushed off the balcony and swiveled to face Wilhelm, revealing himself to be almost half a foot taller than his already tall companion. As he stood, Mal focused on the worn envelope in Wilhelm’s hands. Smirking, Wil crushed the paper between his fists and pitched it into the sea. He had made his choice. “I guess there is no better tribute to the Gods than returning their favor.” Wilhelm shook his head. “We’ll be cursed in rebirth.”

            Mal laughed freely as he flung open the doors to his bedroom. The room spoke of wealth, but also of an occupant who was very little present. In all fairness, the only times Malik returned to Lapa prior to the war was for the four festivals. The insulated walls let no sound in or out, but the open balcony door let in the sound of crashing waves, muffled by elevation. Wilhelm’s eyes traveled to the bed unconsciously before berating himself and returning his attention to the Captain. Malik strode to a simple desk, on which rested a disturbingly thin pile of folders and a data tablet.

            Wil groaned. “I’m not going to get a say in any of them, am I?”

            Mal’s eyes flashed wickedly. “No; but don’t worry, you’ll have work enough to do.” He scooped up the top folder, quickly skimmed its contents, and grinned. He placed it into Wil’s waiting hand. “I want this one.”

            “Nye Bohr, age 18. Team: 17th of the 5th Academy of the 1131st class. Magic: Telekinesis (potentially disproved).” Wil raised a questioning eyebrow, but Mal gestured to continue reading. “Weapon: Knives. Teammates: Deceased. Current Location: Lapa Prison, convicted of war crimes/suspected of Norrian origin – Gods Mal, are you insane? This is a criminal! A Norrian? Our enemy?” He slammed the folder on the ground, papers dislodged and spilled onto the floor. Mal looked mildly annoyed at the mess, but instead focused his energy on Wil. “How did he even get into Surl?”

            “Who knows? We know that he passed as a Surlian for at least five years. He even entered an academy. Everyone thought he possessed the magic of telekinesis.”

            “Yes, so the Norrians chose one of their most talented to infiltrate our military and spy on us. He’ll be executed.”

            “Exactly.”

            “So why are you showing me a dead man’s folder?” Wil asked through gritted teeth, though he expected he knew the answer. “Have you been in bed with a necromancer?”

            Mal smiled secretively, as if Wil had just touched on a topic that could be the potential of a future conversation. Wil groaned internally: He hated anything that toyed with death, as any Surlian should. “He was found half-dead, unconscious on Battlefield. His teammates were dead around him. They found out he was Norrian… well obviously once they saw his ears. They did bloodwork to confirm it.” Wil glared impatiently and without understanding. “If he were a Norrian spy, why would they leave him for us to find, especially while he lived?”

            “Easy. They thought they killed him.”

            “But wouldn’t they have taken him alive? It would seem taking on such a dangerous position would yield reward.”

            “Perhaps they told him he would be blessed in the afterlife. They might not have wanted him to contaminate Norr with stories of Surl. Don’t underestimate the cruelty and cleverness of the Norrians.”

            “But then wouldn’t they make sure he was all-dead? Since he could potentially give away all their secrets?” Mal paused, letting this sink in for Wil. It did seem rather careless to leave someone with that kind of information alive. “I don’t think they knew he was Norrian. Wouldn’t they have disguised him better? It wouldn’t have been that difficult to change his appearance to be more Surlian. Or maybe they did and he’s a traitor to Norr, and they hoped we would torture and kill him. He claims he is a criminal in Norr from his testimonies, after all. I think the Norrians accused him for the same reason we accepted him: telekinesis.”

            “Maybe they’re just mocking us. You know how superior they think their intelligence is because of their technology. Besides, the file says they disproved his magic. You can’t possibly think that a Norrian would have Surlian magic?”

            “Of course not.”

          “So why do you want him so badly?!” Wil struggled to control his already livid temper.

          Mal grabbed the data tablet from his desk, his fingers flipping through who-knew-what. “He passed as a telekinetic in the Academy. You know how rigorously they’re tested. Even going through some records multiple times, I had trouble figuring out what exactly he did to get away with it. You can’t let that kind of raw talent die.”

          “You can if that ‘raw talent’ has aligned with the enemy. How can you assume his loyalties lie with Surl?”

          “Think of the bond our team shared – how could he go four years without feeling anything for at least his comrades?”

          “Maybe he just festered in anger. All of his teammates were found dead, some from knife wounds. His file says that’s his chosen weapon. Maybe he killed them.”

          Mal dismissed this with a wave of his hand. “The medics determined that Bohr was unconscious before the fatal blows to his comrades. They concluded he did not play a physical role in their deaths.”

          Wil considered this. Then grudgingly threw his hands up. “Okay. Fine. I clearly can’t change your mind, so I’ll play along. But what are we supposed to do? He’ll get tortured and executed any day, it’s been six months.”

            Mal’s lopsided grin stretched wide, and with a mischievous glint in his eyes he knelt and gathered the contents of the folder. Stuffing it and his tablet into his messenger bag, he strode to his bedroom door. “It just so happens his conviction is being dealt in half an hour. I think they finally realized they wouldn’t be getting any information about Norr from him. Want to stop an execution, War Hero?” Mal winked, and Wil knew perfectly well that his captain could convince the entire court to release the potential enemy. But even his magic of command had its limits, and if the judge had no doubt that this Nye was guilty, he could do nothing. And, in the surge of nationalism that always followed winning a war, Wil had little doubt himself that the Norrian was doomed if Mal took that approach. With a final sigh, he let Mal usher him out the door.

            “If this is the first one, I can’t wait to see the other two you’ve chosen.” Mal laughed and Wil couldn’t help but join him. “I suppose we’ve already challenged the Gods. Well, let’s go save a Norrian.”