Chapter Twenty

A Chapter by firabelle

Read and find out... :)

I stood in front of the huge door nervously. Today was the big day, and I hadn’t been able to get a wink of sleep last night because of it. I was wired with nervous energy, which made up for last night’s loss. There were no other people to be seen. I guess we were doing this hunger games arena style, where each competitor came in through a different way. I swallowed my misgivings and brought to the forefront of my mind what Tam had told me yesterday before I had thrown my little baby fit. I couldn’t die, and I wouldn’t die.

Not from the trial itself, that is.

The security was tight, which tipped me off; something must have happened before. Someone got hurt, and now they had more rigorous security than an airport. What had gone on before I had some here? The next time I saw Feidlimid, I would ask her all about it.

My heart ached at the thought of the people I hadn’t gotten to say goodbye to. By now, the shock had passed, and reality was setting in.

I might die.

I might live.

But I’ll never go back home.

Never get to atone for any of my mistakes.

Never watch another silly movie with Clovis and Da.

Never receive another message from Bard.

Never strum another chord on Concordia, my soul-mate instrument.

As the nevers clicked through my mind, I heard someone pattering down the hall towards me. “You’re on in five minutes!” shouted someone with a flamingly flamboyant male voice.

I nodded, all the while trying to force down the apprehension rising in my chest at an exponential rate. After a few moments of deep breathing, I managed to shut out all of my emotions.

Ah- now I could think clearly. As this sudden wave of clarity hit me, I tried to prepare myself for whatever was awaiting me on the other side of this gargantuan, oak, door. I mean, if the door was this grand, then something at least half as impressive had to be on the other end. Right?

Watch as it was the equivalent of an old broom closet. At this point, I don’t think anything could throw me.

“Hey!” said the same voice that had spoken to me a moment earlier. I turned.

“Yeah?”

“You’re on. Good luck, girl.”

I laughed shortly. “Yep.”

He clapped me on the shoulder as he nodded to someone else behind me. “Open up the gates, boys.”

Two burly men came from behind me and pushed the doors open, to reveal a packed coliseum. It was built, (from what I could tell), fairly recently, but was in the same state as the rest of the gaelic decor; natural decay. It was modeled after the ancient roman coliseums but was decorated in traditional Irish knotwork. I couldn’t see the seats, but I assumed that they had to be fairly new. I mean, most of these guys had come from Earth, right?

Anyways, I heard my name being called by some announcer-lady. There were twenty-five circular platforms, each about 1 meter in diameter, all in line with each other. There was a little less than half a meter to spare between them, and all of them were set 2 meters in front of a larger, square stage.

I walked up, trying to avoid eye-contact with the crowd. If I did catch somebody’s eye, then I would probably have a nervous breakdown. Honest to whatever deity you’d like to name. As I tried to get my bearing, I felt the announcer’s eyes on me, as well as everybody else’s.

“Stella Lyra is fresh out of Dublin, folks! She is intelligent, witty, and quite sarcastic! She is as clever as the current Loki, as tough as the current Ares, and is sure to make you laugh! Her hair is as black as the darkest ink, and her eyes are the color of the brightest silver. She may be slim, but…” I stopped listening to the prattling announcer as I climbed a set of mini stairs to the next platform, which conveniently had my name on a plaque. Fortunately, I wasn’t the only contestant who was out, so I knew how to stand; marching band style. Shoulders out, chin high, eyes indifferent and penetrating at the same time.

Unfortunately, I was the last to come onto the ‘stage’. (I try to keep out of the spotlight, choosing instead to be the one pulling all of the strings backstage.)

“One of these people will become the next Maeve, girl or boy, straight or otherwise. Good luck contestants, and do us proud.”

Everyone filed off, one at a time. My stomach clenched as I exited the stadium, threatening to expulse the food from the early breakfast I had shared with Zeke. I sighed inwardly; I knew I was falling for him hard, and now I was going to be without him for how long, exactly?

Fate really needed to stop pulling me away from the things and people that I loved, otherwise, I would kick his/her/whatever gender fate happens to be’s a*s- HARD.

Any and all opinions, etc, (even if they are negative), are very appreciated! Even if you don't like my story thus far, I'd like to know what I can o to fix that.

Your's truly, firabelle.

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