She could feel the air moving fast against her skin, raising tendrils of her red hair in a halo around her. She was free falling. Fast.
Whap! Seconds after jumping she hit a net below. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She took a quick inventory of her body, wiggling her fingers and toes. All limbs still attached and in working order. Check.
A firm hand grabbed hers and tugged. A handsome man steadied her as she climbed out of the net and onto solid ground.
"What's your name?"
"Clea," she said. "6th jumper, Clea!" he announced loudly eliciting cheers and applause from the crowd. With feet on solid ground she joined the other initiates on the ground and took a look around. The harsh concrete and stone decor was stark change from the natural fibers she was used to in the Amity fields. This was her life now, and for the first time, it was a life she had chosen for herself.
The handsome man who guided her our of the net address the group. "My name is four, and this is Eric. We will be some of your instructors for the next few weeks while you're training here at Dauntless. Get to know us, but never forget we are the once who decide your fate here initiates."
Eric was more mountain than man, with broad strong shoulders and steely grey eyes. Her eyes met his across the crowd. There was a lot going on behind his mask, that should could tell right away.
He and Eric would oversee training for this year's transfers, Clea included. The two leaders showed the new transfer to their dormitory, what would be their home for weeks to come, and instructed them to change out of their old clothes.
Clea traded her pink linen tunic and baggy yellow pants for a tight black ribbed tank top, a pair of black skinny jeans, and black combat boots. A similar set had been laid on each bed, and marked with their names. She folded the tunic and lifted it to her nose. She inhaled the rich scent of home for what might be the last time. She loved her time at Amity, growing up wild, climbing trees and playing in the fields, knowing she was always safe. But she could always feel a wildness playing around the edges of her consciousness. She was too brave, too wild, and too stubborn to live in Amity forever.
She started to neatly fold her old pants when she felt something heavy in the pocket. Inside was a folded note.
Clea, Be who you were meant to be, and look ever fondly upon your roots. Your adoring mother.
I've know since you were a toddler that you were not born to be live among the amity. Your spirit is wild and brave.
Love always,
Inside the folded note was knotted twine bracelet with a small round brass charm.
She tucked the bracelet and the note into her pocket and gathered her old belongings to join the others. Eric and Four watched as the group tossed the last traces of their old lives into the Dauntless incinerator. As Clea watched her linen clothing catch fire easily, she felt the flames giving her new life.
"This is The Pit" explained Eric, "This is where your meals will be served, and where most Dauntless, initiates and members alike, go after hours. Shops are over there, he said, gesturing to a row of neon signs along the far left wall.
The initiates piled into the benches of a long table stacked with food. To her left was Kyle, a tall gangly transfer from Erudite, and to her right, Sarita, a Candor transfer with a small but muscular build. Conversation flowed easily, mostly about the elements of Dauntless life that excited them most. No one wanted to get caught talking about missing home, especially not on day 1.
Clea's mother's note had certainly set off a pang in her heart but it had also steeled her resolve. If her mother had known since she'd been a toddler, she likely wasn't taking Clea's defection to heart.
Eric left his seat with the other leaders and joined them, squeezing into a space opposite her between two other initiates.
"So what is everyone going to miss the most from your old lives?" he asked. A bold question considering we we supposed to be trying to forget our "old lives."
While other initiates answered, Clea's eyes took in things about Eric she hadn't noticed before. He was astoundingly handsome. He had a big broad face, and full lips, and a tight shave. Several facial piercings shone under the dining hall lights and he wore thick black plugs in his gauged ears. Black geometric tattoos crept out of his collar and up both sides of his neck. He looked like danger personified, and she couldn't look away.