━━･❪ 🌸 ❫ ･━━

Glory had been right about another thing. Daphne should've shut up.

She'd expected to return home with wealth and prosperity for her family, to give them the slight push they needed to reach financial and food security. They would move into a grand house in the Victors Village, never needing to worry if the pantry was fully stocked or if their wool was selling as fast. Esther and Rourke would no longer need to work three jobs each to ensure Daphne was just healthy and strong enough to herd and manage the sheep back home.

Turns out, President Frose hadn't been too pleased with the rant Daphne had spewed before Glory. Looking back now, Daphne realized that Glory had been trying to warn her, but she'd been too messed up to see it.

That and, as Frose had put it, "several accounts of publicly insulting and/or disrespecting authority figures," which Daphne could not deny. Not to mention "deliberate conspiracy to disobey the Game rules," to which Daphne had replied, "well, sorry, I wasn't aware that wanting a happy life for myself and the boy I love was illegal."

Instead of rewarding them with riches and a fine home, President Frose had stripped the Feng family of their property and belongings and cast them to the outskirts of District Ten, miles away from any sign of civilization. Their sheep and their chickens had been seized as well, leaving them with little more than the clothes on their backs and a small shack near the electric fence that bordered the edge of the district. There was no electricity. No running water. No food.

The first months had been tough. Every day, Daphne, Esther, Rourke and Barley would make the eight mile trek to the nearest market, which was really a black market for desperate traders.

Desperate traders, that's what the Fengs had been reduced to. And all because Daphne had been a little too hopeful.

Esther had discovered a patch of edible reeds by the small pond that now served as their bathing pool, which they traded away half of in exchange for meager slabs of meat. Most of Daphne's days were now spent wandering around the empty land with Barley, foraging for things they could possibly eat or trade.

She supposed she could've hunted, carved a stick into a knife and chased down some rodent. The truth was, she couldn't bring herself to touch anything remotely sharp without completely breaking down, assaulted with memories she worked hard to bury. She trained Barley to bring down prey instead.

Perhaps the worst part of it all was watching herself and her family wither away, knowing that this was all her doing. If she'd just cooperated, stayed silent and in her place, none of this would've happened. She wouldn't be here right now, seeing the clothes hang looser and looser on her parents' bodies, feeling herself grow weaker as her muscle mass rapidly deteriorated. Barley's fur coat was dull and limp, his ribs poking out starkly.

For the first time, Daphne was grateful Aedon was no longer with them. Her sweet, music-loving brother would not have deserved to suffer like this.

Seven months had passed. There was no Victory Tour, no nation-wide parade of the winner of the sixth Quarter Quell. Daphne's name would not make it into the history books, and if it did, it would be in dishonor. President Frose had made sure of that.

It was as if everything she'd suffered, everyone she'd lost... it all amounted to nothing.

It was now February, and the Fengs somehow had made it through the worst of the winter. Daphne was now eighteen. She was used to this new, harsh life at rock bottom, never knowing if she was still going to be around by the next week. But as long as she and her family were alive and together, she refused to let her flame of hope flicker out. Despite the fact that it had been what got them in this mess in the first place.

Still, some things hadn't changed. Daphne never took off her plum blossom pendant. Whenever she looked at it, she was reminded of the few happy moments in the arena. Joking around with Rye, exploring with Azalea. Practically every memory with Caelum in it. She was reminded that hope was what had gotten her out alive, allowing her to return to her beloved family.

Yet her body would always bear the proof of all the trauma she'd encountered. She still suffered from frequent, monstrous migraines, often when she stood up too quickly. There was still the numb spot above her eyebrow from when Caelum had stitched her up.

Though her prep team had erased most of her physical scars, they could never heal the mental ones. Daphne often woke periodically through the night, screaming and crying from horrible nightmares. She couldn't watch the sunrise without dissolving into sobs. Couldn't stand by rushing water and keep composed. She startled at every small touch. Steered clear of anything sharp. Even just finding something the shade of Caelum's eyes sometimes sent her over the edge.

There would always be that missing piece of her heart that she would never get back. The pain would never fully fade, but Daphne could learn to cope with it. Learn to live life to the fullest, no matter how dire the situation. She owed her fallen friends that much.

One thing was for sure: Daphne would never be the same. The Daphne Feng from before, knife-slinging and quick to act on every emotion, was dead. The arena had killed her, too.

***

Daphne walked down the familiar dirt path, flowers in her hands.

She hadn't forgotten her promise to Caelum, that she would look after Ara when he was gone. Since she'd been practically exiled with her family, she hadn't been able to visit her former community. Every day she hadn't been able to honor her promise, she sliced herself with a sharp stick. The only sharp object she could manage to touch. Every day, for seven months.

Earlier, she'd caught sight of a freight train stopped at a refueling station near the market. One of those that ran through the entire district, unloading monthly supplies. She'd dropped the bundle of firewood she'd been trying to sell, dashing to Mr. McAndrew's flower stall across the market. She'd bought three flowers with the meager coin she'd made that day, sprinting towards the refueling station after yelling a quick goodbye to her parents.

Esther and Rourke didn't stop her as she'd slipped into an open train cabin, burying herself within the crates before she could be noticed. As the train began to move, Daphne kept a watchful eye out the window. She'd pried the door open and leaped from the train once she'd caught sight of the familiar schoolhouse, and the market of her childhood. Only twenty minutes had passed, but it would've taken hours on foot.

It was nighttime. The moon was high in the sky.

Pain, longing and nostalgia crept into the pits of her stomach as she walked. She'd traveled along this path countless times. Every morning, she'd walk to school with Lysa and Tobe. She'd gone down to the market so many times to trade as she'd grown up.

She couldn't keep in the tears as she beheld her former home. A new family had moved in, probably sleeping in Esther and Rourke's former bedroom right now. The sheep pen and chicken coop had been cleared out, replaced with a muddy pig pen. There was no more spark of identity that made this house hers.

But there were the funny drawings she and Aedon had carved into the back of the barn when they were young. There was that floorboard on the porch that had come loose when nine-year-old Daphne had tripped on it once. There was the scorch mark on the kitchen floor from the time when Tobe accidentally knocked over a pot of boiling rice.

But Daphne wasn't here to reminisce. She forced herself to tear her gaze away.

She made the trip to the Espinozas' house, just past the hill. Azalea's three younger sisters–triplets, all aged sixteen–answered the door when she knocked. Breana, Zinnia and Milla. All three of them had the same bushy brown hair, round golden eyes, and lightly tanned skin.

Daphne gifted them a purple hyacinth. A purple hyacinth that represented all the sorrow, all the regrets she had in regards to their late sister. Her partner in crime. She wished she could've been a better friend, could've seen how Azalea was struggling to fit into the ruthless social hierarchy of school. Daphne wished she could've been there for her earlier, to help quell her inner turmoil before it burst with such dire consequences.

Daphne remembered the earlier days, when she and Azalea had been inseparable. The inside jokes, the games of hide and seek and chopsticks just between the two of them. The moments when one would let the other cry on her shoulder, assuring her that they would always be there for each other no matter what.

Azalea's sisters accepted the hyacinth and Daphne's shattered apology, though Daphne couldn't help but notice the emptiness in their eyes, like a part of their souls had been ripped away the moment Daphne had plunged her knife into Azalea's heart.

Daphne headed past the Espinozas' house, further down the path. She'd never come to this part of the neighborhood much, for she hadn't been close with anyone who lived there. She wished she had been as she arrived on the Dahirs' doorstep, a chrysanthemum in hand.

Tala Dahir, Theron's mother, opened the door. Daphne presented her the chrysanthemum, grief for her son whom Daphne had not known for long enough. A charismatic, talkative fellow at school whom nobody could hate was all she really knew of him. Aside from a few banters in the Training Center, Daphne had never talked to him much. He was a good guy at heart, before the Games had corrupted and taken him down. So now, all Daphne could do was grieve him, wondering how valuable of a friend he could've been.

Tala cried, and so did Daphne. Then, Theron's brother Jakob burst out and waved a brick at Daphne, threatening to snap her neck for killing his younger brother in the arena. Daphne left before Jakob could get himself executed for manslaughter, but not without giving one last condolence.

And now, Daphne made her way to the Caflischs', tears rolling down her cheeks. As she drew closer, one last flower in her hand, she could make out a huddled figure sitting on the front porch.

It was Ara Caflisch. She was thin and fragile-looking, as if just a slight breeze could sweep her away. Her dark hair was overgrown and limp. She had several scars along her arms that didn't look like they'd gotten there by accident.

She looked up as Daphne approached, her green eyes sending a jolt of pain through Daphne's heart. They were just as beautiful as Caelum's.

"I knew I saw you," Ara whispered, her voice dry and thick. "I knew I wasn't going crazy."

Daphne sat on the porch beside her, laying a hand on her back. Her spine was worryingly stark. "How have you been holding up?"

Ara huffed, turning away to brush away tears despite the fact that Daphne's face was already coated with them. "Better. The first few months were hell." She stared forward into space, pausing for a couple heartbeats. "I miss him. I miss him so much."

"I do too," Daphne whispered, her voice catching in her throat. "I'm sorry I couldn't be here earlier, Ara, I'm so sorry. I promised you I would protect him and I failed you."

"He was my little boy," Ara said, sniffling as tears clouded her green eyes. "My little boy who used to beg me to read to him at night. He was there for me when I was in my own purgatory, pulling me back from the edge. I don't know how I've held on so long without him." She suddenly deflated, falling against Daphne with a sob. "I want my little brother back, Daphne. It's not fair, it's not fair-"

Daphne held her as she began to cry, low and heartbreaking. As Daphne rested her chin atop Ara's head, her own sobs breaking free, the white rose fell from her hand. The white rose that stood for innocent love, for new beginnings. For Caelum.

Caelum, who always seemed to know how to be there for Daphne when times got tough. Caelum, who kept Ara anchored to this world when nothing else could. Caelum, who's last wish was for his sister to be alright and for Daphne to live a happy, fulfilling life after he was gone.

"Ara, you have to listen to me," Daphne said through her tears. "Stay strong. Stay strong, you hear me? In his last moments, he thought of you. He begged me to keep you safe. Turns out, I cannot be with you every day, so you must hold on by yourself. I know I have no right to ask you to do anything, after I couldn't keep my promise to you. But please Ara, do this for Caelum."

Ara nodded, her body trembling just slightly less. "For Caelum."

Together, they cried. Cried for Caelum, who would always be with them no matter what.

***

Ara had gone back inside after a long while, having cried herself nearly to sleep. Daphne had helped her to her room, promising to come back and visit every time the train passed or whenever Daphne could spare the many hours it took to travel on foot.

Daphne stood on the Caflischs' front porch, taking a deep breath of the fresh night air. She felt lighter than she had in months, but the hole in her heart was aching more than ever. It was like a broken rib; it hurt whenever she breathed.

She bent and picked up the white rose, placing it delicately by the door. Casting one last look at its pearlescent petals nearly luminous in the moonlight, Daphne turned and stepped off the porch. She then jogged towards the hill just past her former house.

The hill with the plum tree, where she'd spent countless hours sitting with Azalea, Lysa and Tobe watching her sheep graze below. Happiness bubbled up in her chest. She'd missed this hill. She'd made some of her most valuable childhood memories here.

The last time Daphne had seen this plum tree, it had been bursting with juicy fruit. Now, all the fruit was gone, and in its place were thousands of pale pink méihuā flowers, bursting like buds of hope in the night.

The plaid blanket still rested beneath the tree, covered and surrounded by fallen petals. Daphne sat and drew her knees to her chest, the sweet aroma of the flowers swathed in the air around her.

A light breeze tickled her cheek, rustling the branches above her and sending a soft cascade of petals jostling free.

This night breeze. The familiar view stretching out before her. The stars in the dark sky. She could vaguely pick out the Caelum constellation, so faint in comparison to the brighter, bigger ones. It didn't make a difference. He would always shine the brightest to her.

Sometimes, beautiful things have to pass, Daphne thought to herself, opening a palm to catch a few falling petals. The flowers must die to make way for the fruits to grow.

Daphne broke out in a smile.

And the petals continued to float down, all around.

━━･❪ 🌸 ❫ ･━━

a/n: WE DID IT YALL. WE MADE IT.

Holy fiddlesticks. Honestly I have no idea what to say. This project has been a huge part of my life for over a year now, and to have it finally come to an end is so... surreal.

Seriously though I sincerely do hope you enjoyed. Daphne's gonna miss you guys. Her and Caelum and Theron and Azalea and Theia and Rye and everyone else. They love you as much as you loved them!

Thank you for sticking with me through this whole book, you honestly have no idea how happy it makes me feel that I got a chance to share this story with all of you. Just remember to smile and always remember that you are LOVED, you are WORTH IT, and you are AMAZING and i LOVE YOU <3

Now, we're not done just yet. Because I couldn't help myself, here are 2 chapters of incorrect quotes to bid you a farewell ------------------->