CRIMSON ~ Chapter 3

Instructions

before: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1350937117/ next: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1374871248/ Chapter three Croía Twenty humans. Twenty witches. Forty women and girls alike. All shoved in a pungent cave with little light and only six bags per species. Twelve bags in total. Twenty-eight left without. Five minutes until the games start. It’s math, simple really. Though no matter how many times I do it in my head, it still doesn't make sense. Five groups have formed, each with at least one bag and one torch, with many still left over to choose teams. Iolanda taps on my shoulder, shaking me from my moment of paralysis. She looks up at me, making me realize how little she actually is. “What are we going to do? You make them stay together, Não é?” “Uhm-” I mutter before looking around, people panicking, fighting over supplies, begging others for at least the slimmest chance of survival. I take a deep breath. I'm a knight, I’ve been training since I was five, I can do this. “Wait!” I shout, my voice soft, warm, yet demanding, built to control a crowd. Everyone freezes, some even in the middle of arguing or fighting over the bags. “Wait.” I repeat, my voice quieter. “We are knights people. We’ve been training and fighting and serving since we’ve had the capacity to dream big enough to eventually be knighted by the king himself. Are we really fighting over bags in which we don’t even know what’s inside?” Can we just take a second to think reasonably before this damned game starts? How about we go about this stupid game together? We’ll ration the bags instead of groveling to one another for a lick of continuity.” The others start to think about this for a second. I start to think I’ve done it, until someone shouts, “you’re just tryna get all the supplies!” That stirs the rest of the group, shouts of agreement filling the air. “You think you’re better than us since you’re the Commander’s wife!” “You’re both terrible people!” “You’ve been living a life of luxury ever since the lieutenant fostered you!” “You don’t deserve to rank so high!” You couldn’t even keep your family, why do you think you’ll be able to keep a group together? I stumble backwards, the line between their words and my thoughts blurring. My back hits the man-made stalagmites, slowly lowering with the five minute timer. “Miss Sterling?” I hear Iolanda ask, her hand pulling on the bottom of my shirt. I look at her, so young and unexposed to the cruelty of this world. “Croía. It’s Croía dear.” She pauses, “Croía, what should I do?” I look around, this girl looked up to me. And I failed her. “Go with that big group over there, the one with two bags, they should have plenty enough to support themselves and you included.” I say, nodding my head towards a group of five knights. “But what about you?” “I’ll be fine. Go” She looks back for a little bit before jogging towards the group, introducing herself with a bright smile. The others seem to pity her, being so young, and take her in. I’ll be fine. As long as Iolanda is safe, I’ll be fine.