Survivors

In the interest of maintaining peace and order among the nations in the aftermath of the Great War, it has been decided that a series of survival combat games, known as the Survivor Games, shall be established. These games are intended to serve as a means to quell uprisings, resolve conflicts, and prevent the resurgence of violence.

Participants in the Survivor Games will engage in structured and regulated combat, demonstrating their prowess and determination. The victors of these games will be honored and rewarded, serving as a testament to their courage and dedication to the cause of peace.

By implementing the Survivor Games, we aim to channel the spirit of competition into a controlled environment, thereby fostering unity and cooperation among the nations. Let this decree serve as a reminder that our ultimate goal is to build a future free from the shadows of war, where all people can live in harmony and security.

May the Survivor Games begin, and may they bring us closer to lasting peace.

The words of the Survivor Games Decree echo relentlessly in Xania Austin’s mind as she lies awake in the forest arena. Around her, her young cousin Xain and two teammates, Corbin and Abigail, sleep fitfully under the looming shadows of trees. At sixteen, she and Corbin are barely old enough to be called adults, yet Xain and Abigail, only twelve and eleven, are still far from shedding their childhood.

She stares up at the dark canopy above, her thoughts tangled in the cruel irony of it all: a violent game designed to quell violence. For those in the capital, safe behind their wealth and power, perhaps it truly feels like peace. But for the districts—her district—it’s nothing but survival by any means necessary. Fight, or die. Sometimes, both.

Xania’s gaze shifts to Xain’s fragile form curled beside her. His chest rises and falls in shallow breaths, and she wonders how a system can so easily swallow children whole. How can they call this justice? How can they call it peace?

Xania had volunteered to take watch throughout the night. Sleep felt impossible with the constant fear gnawing at her—fear for her cousin’s life. This was Xain and Abigail’s first time in the arena. Though they’d managed to hold their own so far, Xania knew the opponents only got tougher as the games wore on.

Her team was one of the last remaining intact, a fact she credited to her fighting skills and sharp survival instincts. She knew if she faltered, it could mean the end for all of them. Corbin, while a competent fighter, struggled against groups. Earlier, he’d taken an arrow to the arm—thankfully just a graze, though it was a harsh reminder of how close danger always was.

What frustrated Xania most about Corbin wasn’t his skill level but his attitude. He seemed far more interested in chasing the glory of the games than working together as a team. That selfishness grated on her, especially knowing how much was at stake—not just for her, but for the younger ones who depended on them.

Dawn broke softly over the forest, the world around Xania eerily still. She eased herself up from beside Xain, careful not to wake him. He remained curled up, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. They’d need their strength for what lay ahead, and that meant finding food.

Xania had insisted the team only gather supplies as needed to avoid being burdened, a strategy that had sparked frequent arguments with Corbin, who was always hungry. Xain and Abigail, however, didn’t mind. They admired Xania’s practicality, seeing it as an opportunity to strengthen their resilience—both mental and physical. Corbin’s constant complaints had become a shared source of quiet amusement between the two younger teammates.

As Xania strapped on her gear and prepared to leave, a faint rustling behind her caught her attention. She turned to find Xain stirring, his sleepy eyes squinting up at her. For a moment, his gaze held a quiet trust that both warmed and burdened her.

“Xania,” Xain mumbles, rubbing his eyes. “Where are you going?”

“I’m just heading out to gather some food for everyone,” Xania replies softly, walking over to him. “Go back to sleep.”

Xain sits up slightly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You told us to always go in pairs. Should I come with you?”

“No, cousin,” Xania says as she picks up her bow and slings it over her shoulder. “I need to know you’re safe here. And besides, who’s going to watch over Corbin and your little girlfriend?”

“Abi’s not my girlfriend,” Xain shoots back, scrunching his face in mock disgust.

Xania smirks, a teasing glint in her eye. “Right, it’s her sister you like.”

Xain looks away immediately, his cheeks flushing pink. “She’s not my girlfriend either,” he mutters.

“Sure, sure,” Xania chuckles, crouching down to pull him into a quick embrace. “But seriously, Corbin’s hurt, and someone needs to keep an eye on him. I’ll be fine, and I won’t go far. I promise.”

Xain lies back down beside Abigail, his eyes following their older cousin as she disappears beyond the tree line. Xania can’t help but worry that Xain might try to follow her. She doesn’t trust Corbin to protect him and Abigail if something goes wrong. But she pushes forward, the responsibility of feeding the group pressing heavily on her shoulders.

The morning air hums with the sound of birds, their songs weaving through the forest. Xania walks carefully, scanning the undergrowth for any sign of game. For days, the group has survived on quail and berries. No one complains, but she knows they’re all tired of it. She’s determined to find something different—even a squirrel would feel like a feast.

As the sun rises higher, bathing the woods in golden light, the aroma of wildflowers and dew fills the air. She chews on a few stems of grass, the bitter taste keeping her focused as she waits for movement. Climbing a nearby tree for a better view, she perches quietly, her eyes sharp and watchful.

Then she sees it: a wild turkey bursts into the clearing. It’s small, probably young, but it will more than feed the four of them. Her heart quickens as she silently draws an arrow. She takes a deep breath, steadying herself as she waits for the right moment.

The turkey pauses, its head twitching as if it senses her. Xania’s fingers tighten on the bowstring. She exhales and releases the arrow. It streaks through the air, striking the bird cleanly through the neck. The turkey flaps its wings wildly for a moment before collapsing to the ground.

Xania climbs down from her perch, her boots landing softly on the forest floor. She crosses the clearing and kneels beside the bird, her fingers brushing against its feathers. It isn’t much, but it’s enough to keep her team fed for another day. A small victory—but one that matters.

As Xania pulls her arrow from the turkey, she wipes the shaft clean against her sleeve. The sharp tang of blood mingles with the fresh morning air. Just as she begins to secure the bird, a rustling sound reaches her ears. It’s too heavy for a small animal. Her muscles tense, her instincts sharp. She rises slowly, turning her head to see two older kids emerging from the trees, their postures casual but their eyes locked on her.

Her gaze flicks back to the forest in front of her, and her stomach tightens. Three more figures step into view, moving with deliberate slowness, spreading out as they approach. Their weapons gleam in the dappled sunlight—swords, well-worn but deadly.

This isn’t a chance encounter. It’s an ambush.

Xania’s first instinct is fear, cold and paralyzing, as her mind races through the possibilities. Five opponents. Armed. Surrounding her. But the fear is fleeting, burning away as resolve takes its place. She knows panic won’t save her. Without a word, she lets her gear fall to the ground—the turkey, her bow, her quiver—everything except her spear. She grips it tightly, the familiar weight grounding her as she extends it to its full length, the polished metal tip catching the light.

Her stance shifts, her body angled, spear poised, every muscle coiled like a spring. The five exchange glances, some smirking, others outright laughing, as if they’ve already won. They see a lone girl, outnumbered and outarmed. To them, this must look like an easy fight.

But they don’t know Xania. She knows her team can’t take on these attackers, but she can. Her heart races, but her mind remains sharp and focused. As the first opponent lunges forward, she deftly deflects his sword with her spear, using the momentum to sweep his feet and knock him to the ground. He hits the dirt with a grunt, momentarily stunned.

The next two attackers jump in, but Xania is quick to counter their moves. She sidesteps a clumsy swing, using her spear to knock one boy’s weapon out of his hands. A swift kick to his chest sends him sprawling. The other attacker, a girl with a wild look in her eyes, swings her sword wildly, but Xania parries and delivers a sharp jab to her ribs, winding her and sending her to the ground.

She makes quick work of the remaining members, her movements fluid and precise. Each strike is calculated, each defense perfectly timed. With her opponents temporarily subdued, Xania runs further into the clearing, knowing they will follow. She needs a wider battlefield, one that plays to her strengths.

The opponents take her retreat as a moment of fear, smirking as they pursue her. But Xania is calculative, knowing that drawing them into the open means a better chance for her to exploit their weaknesses. As the first attacker clears the trees, he’s met with a knife thrown through his chest. The blade hits its mark, and he collapses, tripping his teammate who stumbles over his fallen comrade.

An arrow flies past Xania, possibly from her own bow. She dodges gracefully, her reflexes honed by years of training. Another arrow comes at her, but she deflects it with her spear, the metal tip sparking as it connects.

One girl closes in on her, sword raised for a killing blow. But Xania is faster. She sidesteps and slashes her spear across the girl’s stomach. The girl’s eyes widen in shock and pain as she collapses, her weapon falling from her grasp.

Xania spins her staff to block one more arrow and a sword swipe, her movements fluid and precise. With a swift kick, she sends another girl flying backwards, her sword clattering to the ground. The boy, now without any arrows, decides it’s best to attempt a tackle. Xania sidesteps gracefully, allowing him to crash into his own teammate. Both tumble to the ground, anger flashing in their eyes as they scramble to their feet, joining the girl in circling her.

Xania’s mind is sharp, her senses heightened as she anticipates each attack. Dodging blow after blow, she moves with the precision of a trained warrior. One boy lunges at her, and with a quick slice of her spear, she cuts deep into his leg. He cries out in pain, collapsing to the ground. Another attacker charges at her, but she pivots swiftly, driving her spear through his stomach. He falls, leaving just the girl standing.

The girl grips her sword firmly, her knuckles white with tension. With a fierce scream, she swings with all her strength. Xania deflects the attack with her spear, the sound of clashing metal ringing through the air. In one fluid motion, she counters with a precise stab through the girl’s heart. The girl’s eyes widen in shock, and she drops immediately, her sword slipping from her grasp.

With that, all of the attackers were now taken care of. Xania sighs in relief as she shortens her spear, the weight of the encounter lifting from her shoulders. She turns to walk away, heading back to her camp and teammates. Her footsteps are steady, but her mind races with thoughts of the battle and what lies ahead.

As she gets closer to the tree line, she glimpses Xain peering from behind a tree. His wide eyes reflect both fear and admiration. He had followed her and most likely had seen everything. Xania feels a mix of emotions—relief that he hadn't intervened, pride in his bravery, and a touch of worry for his safety.

Xania smiles a bit as she thinks about how Xain was probably worried about her. She’s glad he didn’t attempt to help, knowing it would have put him in danger. The bond they share strengthens her resolve as she continues back to camp, feeling a renewed sense of purpose to protect her team and ensure their survival in the brutal Survivor Games.

Suddenly, something doesn’t feel right to Xania. The air feels unnaturally still, and a sense of dread washes over her. She turns around just as a spear pierces her stomach. The shock and pain are immediate. She didn’t see it or sense anything. She could have sworn everyone was gone. As the pain sets in, she sees a girl running towards her, different from the ones she had just fought.

Her thoughts go back to Xain, who sees everything from his hiding spot. The realization that she might not be able to protect him further fills her with sorrow. The girl closes in, and Xania, feeling her strength ebb away, closes her eyes, anticipating the killing blow. A single tear escapes her eye as she accepts her fate, her heart breaking for Xain.

Xain, still peering from the trees, watches in horror as his cousin is killed in front of him. He’s frozen with fear, unable to move or cry out. The girl, satisfied with her kill, walks away, her steps echoing in the eerie silence of the forest. Once she’s gone, Xain forces himself to move. He walks over to his cousin’s lifeless body, sobbing uncontrollably. He holds her hand, feeling the coldness of death, and vows to survive. Her sacrifice will not be in vain.