//------------------------------// // Prologue: The Reaping // Story: And May the Odds be Ever in Your Favor // by PrincessoftheNight //------------------------------// No, this just won’t do, Rarity thought as she used her magic to levitate five different outfits in front of her, each one more elaborate than the last. I have to look my absolute best today. After all, if I’m going to Canterlot- A knock at her bedroom door interrupted her reverie. Her younger sister Sweetie Belle poked her head in. “Rarity?” Not even bothering to look in the filly’s direction, the unicorn replied, “Not now, Sweetie Belle.” Turning to her sister, she asked, “Are you dressed for the reaping yet?” Sweetie Belle limply shook her head and tears began to pool in her eyes. Instantly sensing what was wrong, Rarity let the outfits she had been levitating crumple to the floor. Normally she would have avoided making such a mess, but not today. Today was reaping day. “Are you worried?” she asked her sister. The younger unicorn nodded and buried her face into her sister’s forelegs. Gently, Rarity wrapped her foreleg around Sweetie Belle. “Sweetie Belle, dear, everything’s going to be alright. It’s only your first year after all, and we’re wealthy enough that neither of us has to take out any tesserae. And in the slim chance that one of us gets picked, well, we do live in District One after all.” District One was the only district in Equestria with adequate wealth and a large enough population of unicorns to teach bladecasting from an early age. As such, its tributes were often skilled in both bladecasting and combat magic, and tended to fare very well in the Games. Sweetie Belle still seemed upset. “I promise, dear,” Rarity repeated. “Everything’s going to be fine. Now, why don’t you go get dressed.” Sweetie Belle turned and left her room. Rarity’s heart went after her. If she gets taken…. Rarity squashed the thought down. She couldn’t, no, she wouldn’t, entertain that horrible idea. She turned back to her pile of outfits. If I’m in the Games, she silently vowed, I’ll go down fighting- and looking fabulous. ************** “Hey Rainbow Crash! Are you ready to die?” Rainbow Dash glanced behind her at the sound of the taunt. Hoops and his two stupid friends were standing on the clouds behind her, their wings shaking as they laughed. “Your fancy Sonic Rainbooms won’t help if you get picked. Not against a true fighter. Like me.” He flapped his wings while his cronies chuckled in appreciation. Rainbow simply fluttered over to them and replied,” A true fighter, huh? Funny, I don’t see one here.” The idiot chorus- Rainbow thought their names were Dumbbell and Score- burst into a cacophony of their trademark annoying laugh. Rainbow Dash had the satisfaction of seeing Hoops flush bright pink against his brown fur. “Well,” he spluttered, “at least I’m not a poor weather pony like you.” The insult stung, more than she wanted to admit. While District Two was one of the wealthiest districts in Equestria, they had their share of poor ponies, doing the jobs nopony else wanted to do. Like her. Swallowing her embarrassment, the sky-blue pegasus replied, “No, you’re just a fathead.” She flew away, still seething. One day, I’ll volunteer at the reaping- and I’ll win. That’ll show them. Call me “Rainbow Crash”, will you? She kicked at a cloud, scattering it into little pieces that floated away into the air surrounding Cloudsdale. But… not today. I can’t volunteer today. It’s the Quarter Quell after all, and that means twice the number of tributes. If I volunteered, I’d just get killed. I’m seventeen; I have one more year. I’ll volunteer then. Just one more year. She flew off to the reaping, simultaneously hoping and dreading the coming hours. ************** Twilight Sparkle’s mind ran on knowledge. Ever since she was just a filly barely old enough to read and write, her favorite pastime was gathering facts. Forget playing tag, or coloring, or any of the other typical foalhood games. No, she loved reading and learning. It was her refuge. Which was what she was doing right now. It was only a few hours until the reaping and, while most of the other citizens of District Three were out and about, doing their best to pretend today was an ordinary day; Twilight had her nose buried in a thick stack of books, covering all sorts of topics that she might need to know in the arena: survival books, fighting books, spell books covering everything from cooking spells to advanced combat magic. Not that she’d be picked of course. There were 786 eligible fillies and young mares in District Three. Two of them would have their names drawn today. She’d been lucky enough not to take out any tesserae, so her name would only go in the glass bowl seven times. That put her chances at getting drawn at 1 in 56.142. Yes, the odds were definitely in her favor today. But on the off chance, just in case, it didn’t hurt to study. “Twilight!” she heard Spike call from the bottom floor of the Golden Oaks Library. “We’re going to be late for the reaping!” “Coming, Spike!” the purple unicorn replied. As she started down the steps, she used her magic to levitate the topmost book on the stack into her saddlebags. A little reading material wouldn’t hurt. ************* “Fluttershy?” the lavender pegasus banging on the door of the cottage called. “Fluttershy, are you awake? We’re going to miss the reaping!” The terrified Fluttershy had crawled under her bed, hoping to shut out the world. It was reaping day, her least favorite day of the year. Every year, leading up to this day, she had terrible nightmares- nightmares of her dying a thousand horrible deaths in the arena, or a tribute finally snapping and rebelling, bringing Canterlot’s fury, or someone close to her being picked- her best friend Little Bird perhaps- or some other terrible dream. It was like being constantly stung by tracker jackers. Being from District Ten, where the word tribute translated, more often than not, to corpse, didn’t help. “Fluttershy!” Little Bird called again. “You know what the Peacekeepers do to ponies who don’t show up in time!” That got the yellow pegasus out from under her bed. Forcing her wings to move, she descended the stairs and pulled open her door slowly, as if the light would burn her. “Finally you’re up, lazybones,” Little Bird said with a smile. “Come on, let’s get to the reaping.” Fluttershy wanted nothing more than to run into the forest and stay there, at least until this horrible day was over, but somehow she forced herself to follow her friend. Little Bird wrapped her foreleg around Fluttershy’s shoulders. “I promise everything’s going to be fine. Your name’s not in there much. You’re not going to be picked.” “But… I’m scared. What if- what if I do?” Fluttershy squeaked. “Then I’ll volunteer in your place.” “But then you’ll get hurt. I don’t want you to get hurt for me. It’s okay. If I get picked, I…. I’ll go. You don’t have to get hurt for me.” “Fluttershy,” Little Bird said firmly, “If I get picked I’ll make sure to win. That way you don’t have anything to worry about.” Both of them knew she was lying. Fluttershy would have plenty to worry about. ***************** “AJ! AJ!” Applejack turned her head around at the sound of her sister’s voice. Apple Bloom was galloping down the muddy road, her mane and tail flying out behind her. “I brought you something,” the earth pony filly said, spitting out a small object she had in her mouth and passing it to Applejack. Looking closer, she could see it was a small wooden apple, or at least she thought it was an apple. It was certainly somewhat oval in shape, and painted red, but other than that, it appeared to Applejack’s eyes as a misshapen blob with several teeth marks in it, no doubt the legacy of the journey here. “Do you like it? I made it myself,” Apple Bloom said, a proud look on her face. “It’s really great, sugarcube,” the older earth pony said warmly. “Ah couldn’t have done a better job myself.” “Aww yeah!” Apple Bloom exclaimed. “Woodcarving cutie mark, here I come!” Seeing her sister’s happiness, Applejack allowed her mind to wander back to a happier time, a time when she, too, was eleven, and her parents were still alive and well, and she didn’t have to provide for her family and the Hunger Games were just a scary thing that happened on TV. She cast the thoughts away. Like it or not, she was the provider now. And after Big Mac’s injury, even more so. If I get my name drawn at the reaping…. She didn’t want to think about that. “Well,” she told her sister, “I better get goin’. Can’t be late for the reaping, you know.” Apple Bloom’s eyes widened in fear and her lower lip gave the slightest tremble. Apple jack pulled her sister into a crushing hug, feeling a pang of sadness strike her as she noticed how sharp her younger sister’s shoulder blades were under her skin. Doesn’t seem right that somepony should go hungry in District Eleven. There’s food all around us, but the Peacekeepers don’t let us take any of it. I don’t know how they can do that, just sit back an’ watch the starvin’ ponies all around them. Someday I’ll find a way to strike back against the Capitol. I could get some of the farmers and lead an assault against the Peacekeeper headquarters. Shouldn’t be that hard to do, there are plenty of farmers with a chip on their shoulder. All I’d have to do is get some weapons… Ah, what am I doing, thinkin’ of these featherbrained ideas? If I tried that, I’d get executed for sure. I can’t afford to die right now; otherwise the rest of my family dies with me. Applejack released her embrace on her sister and walked off to the reaping, her head hanging almost as low as her spirit. *************** Pinkie Pie nudged the stack of cookies on the counter with her forehoof. She just didn’t feel very hungry today. The pink earth pony had taken a seat in the back of Sugarcube Corner, watching the silent door. Most of the businesses in Equestria were closed for the reaping and Sugarcube Corner was no exception. It shouldn’t have bothered Pinkie all that much, but even she couldn’t cheer up the eerily silent bakery. Or the district, for that matter. This was the one day of the year she couldn’t make everypony smile. “Pinkie Pie, you better get going! You can’t be late to the reaping.” Pinkie looked up as Mrs. Cake entered the shop, her twins Pumpkin and Pound trailing behind her. She silently got to her hooves and left the bakery, pushing her way into the cold, gray, coal-covered streets of District Twelve. She headed to the reaping silently, ignoring the greetings of the ponies, both merchant and Seam, that she encountered. Pinkie Pie’s talent lay in making others have a good time, but even she was powerless against the Capitol. The earth pony tossed her head in an attempt to remove the straight, dull pink strands of her mane from her face. Most ponies assumed she just styled it differently for the reaping. Pinkie knew better. At last she reached the town square. The buildings surrounding the square seemed to be expressly designed to be somber with featureless stone gray facades. If I was designing this place, I’d make it a lot more fun. There’d be bright happy colors and balloons… It was useless. She couldn’t even cheer herself up. The Peacekeeper running the reaping herded them all in to the roped off section of the town square, the place where the possible tributes would stand. As the stallion closed the ropes, there was no point in denying that her Pinkie Sense was telling her something very bad was going to happen. The Fiftieth Hunger Games were about to begin.