Chapter Text
History class, room 204-hour 4
Boredom gripped Coriolanus as he sat through Professor Crispus Demigloss's history class, the monotony of the lecture threatening to lull him to sleep. The elderly professor, who happened to be Festus Creed's grandfather on his mother's side, was a lively character despite his age. Clad in mismatched two-tone suits and sporting a gray linen driver cap, Professor Demigloss had a penchant for excitement. His hair, a wispy shade of pale white, barely clung to his head, and his eyes were a honey brown with a dusty sheen.
Coriolanus scanned the room, determined to stave off the encroaching drowsiness that threatened to overtake him. The walls, adorned with rich mahogany panels, proudly showcased the coats of arms of the most influential Capitol families. A grand chandelier dangled from the intricate ceiling, casting a warm light over the students, who, more enamored by the opulent surroundings, seemed to pay minimal attention to the unfolding history lesson.
Bookcases lined the walls, reaching impressive heights and housing leather-bound tomes that exuded the fragrance of age and wisdom. Some were embellished with gold leaf, signaling their status as cherished relics of knowledge handed down through generations of the Capitol's elite. In the air, lazy dust motes danced, occasionally catching glimmers of sunlight that filtered through partially obscured windows.
The windows, draped in heavy velvet, offered a glimpse of a world beyond the gilded halls of academia, yet their view was obstructed by haphazardly stacked volumes on the windowsills. Only thin slivers of light managed to penetrate the layers of settled dust on the glass panes. Within this distorted frame, portraits of past Panem presidents adorned the walls, including the latest addition—a depiction of Faustus Ravinstill, the current president of Panem, and Felix Ravinstill's great-uncle.
A faint aroma of chamomile and pomegranate filled the room, emanating from the candles on Professor Demigloss's desk. The only good thing about this room. Coriolanus shifted his gaze toward his twin sister, Elysia, only to discover Felix engaged in a hushed conversation with her. Whatever Felix had said prompted an eye roll from Elysia, who responded by playfully pushing Felix on the arm.
They should have had an independent study day 20 minutes ago, but it seems Professor Demigloss's mind is as old as the class he teaches because he keeps on going on about the Panem flag. "It had a solid crimson backdrop with a stylized gold eagle on it, which was surrounded by a circle of thirteen 4-pointed stars. When displayed as a banner in the Capitol Arena, it had a gold border and eight gold stripes going down from the top vertically, guiding the viewer's eye down to the eagle emblem. Its stars could be interpreted as symbolizing the thirteen districts, or the remaining twelve, and the Capitol. You know my 4x great grandmother made the first version of this flag from scraps of all 13 districts in District 8 "
Boo, yawn. Is Professor Demigloss trying to knit the flag into their mind?
With the melodic chime of the bell and the soothing background music of the Panem Gem song, Professor Demigloss finally dismissed them from class. Coriolanus rose from his seat and began packing his belongings into his book bag.
"Coryo, here, let me help you," Sejanus offered, taking Coriolanus's bag without waiting for a response. Before Coriolanus could protest, Sejanus simply walked away, carrying both bags as if they were the most natural thing in the world.
For the love of Panem, Coriolanus might be an omega, but he certainly wasn't weak. He could handle his own belongings.
"Coryo, stop looking stupid and hurry up! They're serving strawberry cheesecake today, and I will not miss that," Clemensia Dovecote, Coriolanus's cousin, through his mother, shouted impatiently. Coriolanus sighed but followed the group of friends—though he wouldn't exactly call them that; to him, they were more like peers or, better yet, extended family members.
The dining hall
Their group occupied a prominent table at the center of the dining hall, a position befitting the top 25 students—the future leaders of the nation. As they settled in, the rest of the Academy student body couldn't help but gawk and cast glances at their small, elite group. Coriolanus, Sejanus, and Clemensia, along with the others, exuded an air of distinction that set them apart.
Despite Sejanus's origins in District 2, his status among the top students overshadowed any reservations others might have had. In the hierarchy of the Academy, he held a position of privilege above the scholarship students and those from fallen noble families. The eyes of their peers followed their every move, a testament to the prestige that came with being among the academic elite.
As some of the group settled into their spots, others took it upon themselves to fetch lunch for the elite assembly. Coriolanus, however, found himself banned from the task. A past incident involving him carefully weighing his lunch to ensure it would sustain him throughout the day and into the next had led to this prohibition. Despite his protests and attempts to explain his reasoning, the rest of the group dismissed his concerns, rolling their eyes and shaking their heads in disapproval.
"Coryo, your tie is off by 1.2 inches," Clemensia remarked, pointing her perfectly manicured, blue-tinted nail in his direction. "Sorry, Clemmie, my mind's been wandering," Coriolanus apologized as he adjusted his tie.
"Is your next heat the 3, right, Coriolanus? Isn't it before the reaping? Can you even afford to miss it, or is your dad putting you on a blocker?" Persephone inquired. "I think so, Nia, but my heat has been off and on. I may not even get it then," Coriolanus responded, carefully choosing his words.
Persephone acknowledged Coriolanus with a nod before turning to engage in conversation with Livia Cardew, another omega. The rarity of their status was evident, with only four omegas in the Academy and a mere 24 in the entire capital. Districts 1 and 2 held the remaining six omegas, completing the exclusive group of 30 omegas in all of Panem. Notably, Coriolanus stood out as the only male omega in the entire nation, as far as he knows.
In the capital, the only other omegas Coriolanus was aware of were his twin sister, Elysia, and his mother. The scarcity of omegas was attributed to the gene's potential to deactivate, rendering the individual defective due to malnutrition. This concern loomed large in the memories of his mother and Grandma'am, particularly during the dark days when obtaining nutrient-rich food was challenging and expensive.
"Coryo-Coryo, do you believe in a Fate Mate? A special person just for you, or do you think you're such an ill fit that not even fate can conjure up an alpha for you?" Livia Cardew questioned him as Felix Ravinstill, Domitia Whimsiwick, Sejanus Plinth, Urban Canville, and Hilarius Heavensbee returned with the group lunch.
"I don't know, Livia. I could ask you the same, but maybe miracles can happen. Let's pray for the both of us," Coriolanus replied before expressing gratitude to Sejanus for bringing his food. Apollo Ring chimed in with laughter, teasing, "Do you think you're a bit too old to believe in fairy tales, Livi?" Livia huffed in response, cutting her streak of conversation short.
Coriolanus glanced over at Sejanus, reflecting on the past decade since the boy with doe-brown eyes and gumdrops had been first "welcomed" into the group. It took time, but Sejanus only fully became a member after Elysia bestowed on him a nickname. It was a testament to the power wielded by the Snows—their words were capable of making or breaking a person's status within the group. Coriolanus shook his head, dispelling the distracting thoughts that had occupied his mind. The bell's chime snapped him back to reality, signaling the end of the lunch break.
Doe-like eyes... Sejanus? The notion lingered, but Coriolanus quickly dismissed it. No, he couldn't afford such distractions, especially considering the societal implications. Sejanus, despite his current status in the Capitol, was from District 2, and old prejudices still lingered. The specter of his father's disapproval loomed large—Crassus Snow's omega son entangled with someone from a district? The scandal would be insurmountable, even if Sejanus had not stepped foot in District 2 since 10 years ago.
As the group gathered their belongings, Festus Creed voiced the sentiment shared by many. "More class, how fun."
Io interjected, bringing up the topic of their high biology paper. "Coriolanus, did you finish your part? I completed mine."
"Yeah, I got it done. How much did you write? I just want to make sure we didn't exceed the limit of 103. I wrote 50," Coriolanus replied, seeking reassurance.
"That's good. I wrote 53," Io confirmed, and with that, the group dispersed to their respective classes.
As Coriolanus walked towards his next class, he muttered to himself, "Snow lands on top," a mantra to refocus his thoughts before the impending lessons. The weight of societal expectations, his father's influence, and the looming Hunger Games pressed upon him, but he pushed it all aside, determined to navigate the intricate dance of Capitol politics and academics.