"Harder."

Arrius grunted as he swung his fist forward, barely missing Magnus' shoulder. The older man laughed and twisted around, punching Arrius squarely in the jaw. He stumbled back a bit but quickly regained his balance.

"Faster, boy, you would have been dead ten seconds ago if this were the arena."

Arrius gritted his teeth and pushed just a bit harder. Trying to be light on his feet, he swung again, this time grazing his opponent's ear. He bit back the urge to yell as Magnus laughed for the second time, the sound cruel and haughty.

"Come on now, you had better aim when you shot your mother."

He felt an ungodly noise rip forth from his chest as his fist flew out, connecting squarely with Magnus' nose. He heard a sickening crack and watched as his mentor dropped to the floor. From the amount of blood leaking out of the wound and the reddish-purple bruising that was beginning to form, Arrius guessed he had broken it. Good. Stupid jackass deserved it.

After a few tense moments of silence, Magnus began to prop himself up, one hand pressed to the base of his nostrils in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Finally, he glanced up at his mentee, a look of childish mirth in his eyes. Begrudgingly, Arrius held out his hand to help him up. Instead of accepting it, Magnus shot his leg out, catching Arrius' ankle and sending him crashing to the ground. Quick as a viper, the older man was on top of him, fist wrapped around his throat just tight enough to make his point clear. Arrius gagged as a thick drop of Magnus' blood dripped onto his cheek, but he didn't move, keeping his eyes squarely focused on the threat.

"Never show mercy, boy, not even with me. Especially not with me."

It was a few seconds before Magnus let the pressure off his neck. He offered a hand, but Arrius knew it was only a test. He slapped it away and made his way to standing all on his own.

"You should go get that checked out," Arrius said tersely to his mentor.

"It'll be fine. Not like you haven't broken it before."

Arrius snorted. It was true. After the first incident happened Magnus had actually gone to a doctor, but the last few times he had just let it heal naturally. His nose looked fucked up, for sure, but it hadn't seemed to permanently harm him any more than that.

As the two walked out of the small training building and into the open air, Arrius looked over at his mentor. He was a grizzled man, with too many scars to count. He was handsome, in a way, but no woman in District One cared enough to face the brunt of his domineering personality. Arrius didn't blame them, he wouldn't want to live with Magnus either. But it did make him feel rather sad for the man. He was a cruel figure, for sure, but only insofar as to push his wards to success. Magnus had been the only one to support him after his accidental killing of his mother. The only one to teach him how to create something productive out of his guilt and shame. He taught him to use the pain as his strongest weapon. The ace up his sleeve.

"There you are, idiot. Father is looking for you."

Arrius turned around and rolled his eyes. Cecilie. His dumb brat youngest sister was always running errands for their father, especially if they had something to do with bothering him. It was no secret she despised Arrius, as he did her. She was truly a vile little person, concerned with nothing more than appearances and status. She could be charming, for sure, but there was no candor to her. She was a pretty, shiny thing with an empty core; insubstantial. Arrius pitied her for that. Hollow things were crushed easily underfoot.

"Father is always looking for me. Tell him I'm not interested in being found."

Cecilie snorted, unfazed. Arrius didn't like that. A tingling sensation prickled at the back of his neck. She had something over him, he could feel it.

"Well, he has something you want. Something you're going wish you didn't miss."

"Yeah, and you're not going to miss anything after I-"

"He'll be right there, young lady. Run along, and tell Romulus to come and speak with me before the morning's events are through," interrupted Magnus. Cecilie nodded and skipped off, clearly satisfied with the answer. Arrius turned to him.

"What was that for? I'm not going to see that bastard, not on my reaping day."

"Believe me, boy, you want to go see him," Magnus said with a sigh. Arrius tensed. He sounded almost… pitying.

"What? What is that supposed to mean?"

Instead of answering, Magnus turned away from him and began to walk back towards the training building.

"Magnus!" Arrius bellowed, "Answer me!"

But Magnus did not. The door to the old metal building swung shut, the morning quiet enough that he could hear the bolt slide into place even from his location some 30 paces away.

Even though he was still dripping with sweat from the morning's sparring session, the long walk back to his father's house felt bitingly cold. He was shaken. It wasn't so much that he was disturbed by Cecilie's antics. She tried to get the better of him regularly. It was Magnus' involvement. The old man couldn't have given two moldy tessera about Romulus Owens in the years prior. What made him so interested in speaking with him now? What was he hiding?

As he made his way up the opulent staircase that marked the entrance of the Owens Manor he paused. The statue of Minerva Owens stared down at him blankly as he did so, a pale imitation of his mother's own sharp gaze. He hated the statue, and so would have she. But it wasn't really about honoring Minerva, he supposed. It was about reminding Arrius, day in and day out, that he was indebted to this family. That he owed them his lifeblood in return for that which he took. He knew he would never get out from under that.

Shula greeted him at the door, a weak smile brushing the edges of her worn and tired face. Arrius nodded at her but didn't speak. He had always felt uncomfortable about that- speaking in front of a woman with no tongue. He supposed she must have done something terrible to lose it, but still. It felt mocking. Her fate was cruel enough without any spurs from him.

"Ah, my son, come in, come in."

Arrius' head snapped up at the sound of his father's voice. He shivered, nervous energy coursing up his spine. He wasn't necessarily afraid of him, but he was extremely wary. Romulus was the epitome of a snake, more than his daughter could ever hope to be. Though he was only 57, something about him felt very old and very powerful. Like he was inhabited by something grander than himself, something more primal. Arrius didn't believe in God, but he couldn't deny the almost spiritual aura that his father emanated.

Romulus didn't wait for a response as he walked up the short hallway to his study, leaving the door ajar. Arrius' heartbeat quickened. He hadn't been in his father's study more than a handful of times, and none of those instances left behind positive memories. Taking a breath, he stepped inside.

"Close the door."

Despite his better judgment, Arrius did as he was told. Still, he did not settle in, instead standing alert by the now shut door.

"Sit."

His lip quirked in annoyance. No, that was too far. He wasn't a dog, not anymore.

"I'm more comfortable standing."

"Ah, very well. I suppose I should honor the wishes of District One's newest volunteer, should I not?"

He noticed that his father did not say 'victor'. He knew Romulus had never wanted his oldest to come home- he would have been an idiot not to notice.

"What do you want from me, Father."

Romulus stared at his son coldly for a moment, then smiled.

"You never were one for niceties, were you? You were always such a distant child. Even before you so heartlessly murdered my wife."

He didn't flinch at the jibe. From his father, this cruelty meant nothing.

"It isn't such a terrible trait, you know. You see people, don't you son? See their hearts, their intentions. You were never fooled by our family's little games. You always knew that no love lived here."

Arrius wished desperately that he would get on with his point. Besides the anxiety of it all, he did have a reaping to get to.

"Which is why I will be clear with you now. When you get to the ceremony, and you're running for the stage, you must allow Anton Palladium to beat you."

With that, there was a great stretch of silence. Arrius' head was reeling. What did he mean let him beat you? To volunteer was his duty, his penance for the death of his mother. He couldn't just let that go. The games were everything to Minerva, and she had believed he could win them with a ferocity that would put the most volatile muttation to shame.

"I cannot," he said, his voice quivering with a terror that he was not keen to admit.

"You must. His father has paid all the career families great sums of money to make sure it is he who becomes victor. And more importantly than that, they have promised to me their eldest daughter, Natalia. She will make fine breedstock. Perhaps her's will prove even more bountiful than your mother's own womb."

Arrius lunged at his father in a fury he hadn't thought he possessed. They crashed into the desk, sending a flurry of papers into the air around them. With one fist around his father's throat he slammed the base of his neck into the edge of the desk. Romulus went silent.

Arrius stumbled back, and Romulus slid quietly to the floor, his head lolling back at an unnatural angle. Arrius ran a hand through his hair shakily, uttering a word he hadn't spoken in years.

"Dad?"

There was no response.

Steeling himself, Arrius stepped across the room to look at the prone form.

Romulus' eyes looked up at him emptily, telling him everything he needed to know. Feeling strangely calm, he closed his father's eyes and picked up his body. It was heavier than he had expected, but nothing compared to the weights he lifted with Magnus. Checking the hall for signs of Cecilie, he cautiously stepped out of the study and hurried his way into his father's bedroom.

Gently Arrius tucked the body into bed, grabbing the key from behind the headboard and opening the liquor closet. He took out a bottle of his father's favorite tequila and unscrewed the top, placing it on the bedside table. There. At least for the moment it would look to Cecilie like Romulus was simply passed out drunk. It wasn't an uncommon thing for their father to do, though the timing made it improbable. Still, Arrius hoped that the young girl wouldn't question it till after the reaping. Could they still arrest him after he volunteered? He shook his head. There was no time to wonder about such things, he simply had to move forward and hope for the best.

Arrius got ready quickly, barely taking the time to comb his white-blonde hair. His suit had already been pressed and laid out the night before, and his shoes were already freshly polished. All that was left was his token.

Delicately, Arrius took the small lion-head-shaped pin out of his dresser, admiring its sharp gleam as he did. It was technically a woman's brooch, but he didn't care. It had been his mother's, and it was precious to him. Plus, it functioned perfectly well as a lapel pin. His hands trembled a bit as he put it on, but other than that he felt strangely calm.

He didn't really begin to realize the gravity of what he had done till he was halfway through being processed for the reapings. His father was dead. This was not particularly disturbing to him- he had wished for it many times. Romulus was not a good person by almost anyone's standards. He was a manipulative, alcoholic asshole with a powerful knack for bending people to his will. He abused every woman Arrius had ever known him to romance, including his mother. He could only imagine how the man had treated the prostitutes he regularly brought home. So no, he would not mourn his father. He had done that many years ago when he had realized his true nature.

What was really weighing on his mind was that he himself had been the one to end him. While he knew it was his duty to slaughter his way to the top, Arrius took no pleasure in the taking of lives. His part in the training accident that had caused Minerva's end nearly drove him mad. But this situation was somehow more sinister than that. The first incident was genuinely happenstance. That his mother had walked in at just the right moment to be struck by his spear was just horrible luck; there was no malice there. Yes, this was very different. He hadn't intended to kill Romulus, but there was no doubt that his desire was to cause him great pain. He had never considered himself a murderer, despite the cruel words that were flung at him throughout his adolescence. But now he supposed that had changed. Now he was Arrius Owens, consummate orphan, parricidal maniac. He laughed to himself a bit, earning a glare from one of the boys sitting next to him. He quieted. It was no time to draw attention to himself.

He turned his head as their mentor, Gauis Cordon, stepped up to give his yearly speech. This year he donned a sparkly blue suit top which bloomed into a wide, billowing skirt. His face and body were adorned with hundreds of matching blue crystals, making him look almost as if he were some sort of human geode. He thought it was honestly one of Gauis' better looks. Last year's had been a garishly western green and red velvet number, transforming him into some sort of tacky christmas cowboy. This getup was classy in comparison.

His speech was long-winded and boring, as always, and Arrius found himself struggling to pay attention. He looked behind the glitzy capitolite to the victor's row. As the official mentor, Magnus sat front and center, a furrowed look on his face. Arrius tried hard to catch his gaze, but couldn't seem to. He couldn't help but ponder what exactly the old man knew.

The girls were called first, and to no one's surprise, Etheria Spectral was the first one to the stage. Arrius knew her only in passing, but her reputation was formidable. Trained by not one, but two previous victors, she had generated a lot of buzz. She was supposed to be something of a musical prodigy as well. That made Arrius incredibly sad for her. He wondered what had led her to choose violence over art. He wondered how his life would have differed had he himself shown a tendency for something other than fighting. He wondered if his father would have let him pursue it in the first place.

But there was no time for sympathy or contemplation now. He steeled his nerves and tensed in his seat, ready to dash toward his destiny.

"Iko Brutus!"

The race was on, and there was so much more on the line than he expected. His mind was focused on nothing but the finish line. One glance behind him could cost him everything. Before he knew it, he was clamoring onto the stage, adrenaline still coursing through his veins. He looked out on the crowd and noticed the sweaty, disheartened face of Anton Palladium. Little did the boy know what a favor he had just done him. If his father had had to purchase his ascension to the stage, there was no way he would have survived the games.

"And what is your name, handsome?" Gaius asked with a coy grin.

He felt his hands begin to tremble. What if they all already knew? What if this was all just a trick to capture him?

"Arrius Owens," he replied, trying to sound as confident as possible.

"And what made you decide to volunteer today, Arrius?"

Arrius took a deep breath before he answered, steadying himself.

"To make my mother proud."

Well, there it is folks. I'm back, after all this time. I hope you are still interested in reading AAI, as I plan to be a much better updater in the future. Let me know what you thought of this one in the comments!