Callisto Meadowforge

## Bio

*Callisto Meadowforge* *(she/her). Tribute. District One. Twenty. Lily Rose Depp.*

For years, two darling daughters who perfectly complemented each other furnished the Meadowforges with plenty enough happiness. They were content, their lives were complete, and they were not planning for another addition to the family unit. But plans only went so far, and this time, it did not seem to matter. Callisto came along, inserting a sudden staccato in their flawless rhythm.

Despite not being part of the original symphony, the third Meadowforge daughter was enthusiastically welcomed by her parents and elder sisters alike. Even before her very first cry, Callisto was showered with endless affection and protection in the womb, and all that only multiplied the moment they laid eyes on her. She grew up sheltered and spoiled, and life was as effortless as anyone’s could get in the district of luxury. Her interests—music and ballet among them—were always supported, and when she reached the appropriate age, she joined her sisters in the career academy, but neither Fleur nor Myron ever imposed pressure. They were simply glad to have her. They simply wanted to see her dance to her own melody.

She knew she should be grateful for that reason, and she was, but she was not entirely immune to envious inclinations. While her elder sisters excelled in the academy, each in their own way, Callisto always seemed to fall behind, left to idolise them from the gallery. Her movement was lithe and graceful, but her hands were too soft, her soul even more so, and her skin bruised too easily. Along time, she grew to accept that she would never hit quite an equivalent tune to her sisters’, even if that acceptance did not detract from the way it was making her feel small at times.

Callisto had just turned thirteen when Cressida volunteered for the 120th Games. She watched every minute of it with bated breath, and when her sister emerged victorious, she basked in equal parts relief and joy in volumes she had never felt before. She was beyond excited to welcome her sister back home, but Cressida never returned. Only Cress did. Callisto did not understand it—what changed, why her sister was so different, why Cressida did not seem to enjoy her company as much anymore—but in time, she grew to accept that, too. Maybe Cress the victor was simply too evolved a character to humour a sister like Callisto; fated to always trail behind, forever watching from the gallery.

Unlike Cressida, Cyrene stood solid as an integral part of the family. Unlike Cressida, Cyrene never ran out of love for her youngest sister. Callisto spent her teenage years under the tutelage of the one sister she had left and she would never stop being grateful for it. Every little bit of improvement she managed to attain, whether in her hand-to-hand technique or her weaponry skills, she attributed to all the help she received from Cyrene off the academy clock. Callisto remained a gentle thing and perhaps would forever be so, but at least she had a patient and steadfast mentor, and most of the time, that was enough.

Of course, everything else remained the same, and the cutthroat spirit of competition and violence that surrounded her education never changed. She also never managed to shake off the envy she felt for all her betters at the academy. One of those betters was no other than Helios Serpentine. His was an insufferable presence—or at least that was what Callisto told herself. As little mind as she would rather pay him, it proved impossible more often than not. After all, how could she ignore him entirely, when he was always strutting around with that stupid handsome face and that stupid cadence he had with words? How could she shake him off when he was always goading and challenging her into stupid spars and stupid games he knew all along he would win?

It all came to a head just before the reaping of the 134th Games. Helios, by then one of the best—if not *the* best—students at their academy, was set to volunteer. As expected, he never let Callisto hear the end of it. Worse still, he never grew tired of implying that this was the ultimate test, the culmination of all their stupid games, and that he knew she did not have the competence nor the courage to ever volunteer. That struck the final note in their ever-chaotic composition. It brought out and ignited years of harboured envy, not just towards Helios, but also Cressida and Cyrene and everyone else in the orbit. Callisto walked into that reaping ceremony with such intense green jealousy, her small figure could barely contain it. Clutching the alexandrite pendant hanging off her neck, she raised her hand and voice right after Helios did, announcing to the whole country that she was following him into the arena.

Her parents always did say they believed in her. She was a Meadowforge, too, was she not? She could do anything. Did she not deserve her moment on the stage, too? What was stopping her from becoming just like her sister? The 134th Games would decidedly be her very own *grand pas*, regardless of how it would end.

Token: an alexandrite pendant

(+) optimistic, sincere, sociable. (-) excitable, insecure, naïve.

**PENNED BY: CEE**