Felix blinked a bit and stumbled back over to his desk.
"My gods…" he whispered, "Why me?"
He pocketed his knife and grabbed a few other things off his desk, then rummaged through the drawer for some candles and matches. Felix haphazardly threw them all in a bag and slung the bag over his shoulder. He slid on his boots, his hands trembling slightly as he did so.
Felix crept up through the house, trying to avoid any attention from his dad or brother. He didn't want to talk about it right now. He could already hear them congratulating him on going to his death, but he figured he would maybe grab some weapons from the shop later. Felix wasn't sure he would tell his family where he was going at all. It made him feel far too insignificant and misunderstood.
The young man made his way out to the shrine, trying to sort out his emotions before he made it there. Yet, it was difficult. He tried to find a silver lining in the situation. Sure, there was becoming a god, but that wasn't his style. The only perk he could see with becoming a god that he'd even want was perhaps changing his form. Even that wasn't enticing enough.
Felix barely remembered the walk to the shrine, he'd zoned out so intensely. When he entered the archway, a woman around his age approached and walked next to him.
"Felix, did you bring more amulets already?" she asked, sounding a bit surprised, though pleased.
"Septima, I-" he stopped himself for a moment, "I just stopped by to meditate and leave some offerings, is all."
Her blue eyes flickered to the side. "You don't usually come to do that this time of day. Is everything okay?"
He huffed under his breath. "No. No use lying."
"Do you need to stay with us for the night again?"
"No. I-I… I'll explain in a moment."
Felix glanced around and found a place where they could talk privately. There, he explained the tournament. Septima just stood there, nodding as she listened.
"Felix…" she whispered, "You're a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for. I think you can do more than survive. That said, I'll miss you in the meantime."
"There's like seven other people," Felix protested, "I don't like my chances. Not to mention how… twistedly excited some of them seemed."
"You're tough, though. You remember how you ended up here, right?"
He gave a short nod.
"Give them a taste of that fire. I'll be pulling for you."
Felix bent over into the crook of Septima's neck as she hugged him.
"I'll help you pack," she offered, "Have you told anyone else?"
"I don't want to," Felix admitted, "I can't do it. I wouldn't have even told you, had you not caught me at a bad time."
For a little bit, Septima left Felix to go make his prayers and offerings to the god. He placed a few candles out on the altar and lit them, concentrating on the sway of the flame and the drip of the wax as he meditated and sent his prayers up to The Exiled. He wasn't even sure they were listening at this point. How could their gods have allowed this to happen? Felix watched the whole time as the candles burned all the way down. And now what?
Septima came home with Felix and helped him begin to pack. He started by packing some extra clothes and a simple repair kit. Then he slipped in a couple of his knives and his blessed paintbrush.
"I'm not even sure what else to bring," he admitted, "I was going to steal a weapon or two from the shop, but otherwise, what's the point?"
"Take your sketchbook. Maybe if you have some downtime, it'll help you unwind and push through this."
"You don't think it's a waste of space?"
"No."
Felix let out a sigh. He should probably pack some snacks and a canteen, too. He wasn't sure what food was going to look like for a bit.
When he finished, he flopped over on the bed.
"Take your offerings, too," Septima said, sliding more candles and matches into his bag, "They'll appreciate it."
After the shop closed that evening, Felix took the opportunity to go back in and take the weapons he felt he might need, which included a short blade, some throwing knives, and a hatchet. Around that time, he and Septima parted ways.
"I'm pulling for you," she said, "Good luck."
Felix ran into his father and brother on the way back in, though he'd tried so hard to avoid them. He couldn't bring himself to explain, so instead, he plastered on a smile and pretended he wasn't about to die. He wasn't about to bring their household down to just two. He ate dinner with his family like normal. He holed up in his room, like he always did late at night. Usually he stayed up drawing or working on another project. Tonight, he laid in bed awake and terrified.