The audience cheered as Caesar Flickerman gave his usual dazzling smile and gestured to the stage wings. “And now, from District 7-please welcome the ever-enigmatic Eris Kane! Let’s see what secrets she’s hiding as we head into the 73rd Hunger Games!”

She stepped onto the stage like she owned it. Not with grace, but with command.

Dressed in dark forest green, her hair woven through with razor-thin splinters of blackwood bark. She walked with the cold poise of someone who knew she was dangerous but didn’t need to prove it. In her gloved hand she flipped a deck of tarot cards.

Not Capitol sanctioned. They were handmade with uneven edges and faces painted with haunting beauty. Each one looked like they had been dragged from the bones of the forest itself.

The crowed whispered and murmured. Then hushed as Caesar, ever the charmer, leaned in with a smile. “Welcome, Eris. I must say, you’ve intrigued a lot of people. We’ve been tributes bring jewelry, wood carvings, a handkerchief-“

“I prefer symbols,” she replied. Her voice was low and calm, but there was something cold behind it. “They last longer than spectacles.”

The audience stirred and a few Gamemakers leaned forward.

She began to shuffle the cards, making it a performance. The deck danced between her fingers. One card flipped midair. Another vanished up her sleep, only to reappear between Caesar’s fingers. It was a trick, a distraction. “A story,” she said softly, her eyes meeting his with that cool, expressionless face that had unsettled her trainers all week. “Told in three cards. Past, present, future.”

Then she slowed and slid one card forward.

**_The Tower._**

The image was brutal, painted in blood-red and black ink with a crumbling Capitol building struck by lightning, children falling from the spires, flames licking from shattered windows. Eris smiled as she flipped the card over to show the crowd as they leaned forward.

“This is the past,” she said, voice steady. “Something shattered. An old world collapsed so a new one could rise from the ashes.”

She let the silence hold. “People died to build these Games.”

There was a stillness in the air now, fragile and brittle.

She slid the next card free and turned it with a flack of her wrist.

**_The Moon._**

This one was subtler, soft ink work, almost dreamy. A girl stood between two looming figures, unsure which path to take. The stars above her were covered in clouds, eyes watched from the darkness.

“The present,” she murmured. “Uncertainty. Illusion. We walk paths lit by lies and call them the truth.”

Caesar chuckled weakly, trying to bring the mood back up. “Well now, I’m not sure if that’s poetic or ominous-“

Eris was already holding the final card. She didn’t flip it with flair, instead, she laid it down like a final verdict.

**_Death_****. **

And in this version, it wasn’t frightening, it was beautiful.

A scorched forest regrew in bloom, broken weapons scattered beneath wildflowers, a skeleton walked forward, holding a child’s hand.

“The future,” Eris whispered. “Change. It always comes, whether you want it to or not.”

The silence was deafening. Not even the Capitol’s applause machines dared to hum.

Then Eris stood, gave a shallow bow, and turned to walk off-stage leaving the three cards face-up burning on the screen behind her.

**_ The Tower, The Moon, and Death. _**

A past built on violence. A present drowning in illusion. A future that promised something must end.

- - -

(This prompt could not come at a better time. I just finished SOTR)