"Your rankings will be based on your progress and fights, which starts in two days." Eric rejoins us after lunch, his face hard. "Dauntless only has a limited amount of space, therefore, we will only be taking in the top fifteen from initiation. Yes, this means that you'll be ranked with the Dauntless-born together." My fist rests on my mouth.
How much of an advantage do the Dauntless-born already have?
A boy lifts his hand up like we're in primary school – my points are on him being a former Erudite. "Yes?" The Dauntless leader eyes flash in expected irritation.
"But there are twenty initiates in total." The boy squeaks.
Eric lifts an eyebrow. "So?"
"What happens to those below fifteen?" Perhaps the lack of intelligence was the reason why he transferred.
The leader lifts a shoulder nonchalantly, like the news doesn't and shouldn't faze anyone. "They become factionless."
Gasps immediately fills the air. My face contorts to a wince, not at the news, but at the fact that I could've been them. "Why weren't we told this before?" An Erudite girl rasps in horror, the rest murmuring in agreement. Eric looks at me. He only grows more and more frustrated, which he definitely has the right to. Though, we wouldn't be in this situation if he didn't implement the stupid rule. Four stands near the punching bags across the room, face hidden as he reads through some papers. I give Eric a tight-lipped smile, which makes his brows furrow slightly, something other than malice filling his features. "Urm, Eric?"
The man snaps back to the girl, eyes narrowing. "New system." He says simply. "Unless you're aiming for below fifteen, I don't see what's there to worry about." Riley moves closer to me for comfort, her face turning to a familiar green. I regard her cautiously and take a small step back. Her lunch is probably only moments away from resurfacing. Four coughs, he's looking at me with a fist covering his mouth. "Any more questions before I continue?" Eric asks a little to sweetly. No one moves. "Good. Now, training will be divided into three stages: Physical, Emotional, Mental. Physical will last for two weeks, emotional will be a week and a half, and mental is the remaining. The cuts will be at the end of the physical and mental stages. Three and two respectively." With that, Eric leaves the room, not once looking back.
After the briefing, Four takes over. We spend the day learning about fighting techniques, an exercise I'm familiar with. I'm partnered with the Erudite girl who questioned the leader, the fittest among the three girls. I don't doubt that Four paired everyone based on their skill level; I'm grateful. The Erudite girl has dirty blonde hair. Her earlobes are also red, the maroon studs complimenting the soreness. The girl picks up on the techniques quickly, but she has yet to be able to take me down. I'm mostly on defensive, working on dodging her blows. She fast, but not as fast as my dogs. At one point she asks if we should swap roles, I tell her that it's fine. I see no reason to hurt her, and I don't, especially since this session isn't being scored.
By the time the clock reaches six, I'm cradling my head with a hand. My head spins from having to duck and twist for the past few hours. Four releases us, all the initiates heading out of the door while I stay behind to grab some water.
"You're expected to fight in two days." Four says. He holds his stack of papers against his chest, arms folded around it.
I rub my temple to ease the headache rising. Lifting the metal cup to my lips, I reply before taking sip. "I know."
His jaw ticks at my short response. "Your Amity roots are holding you back, continue on the defensive and you may become factionless."
I stare at Four. His statement angers me, for he had no idea what he's talking about. But above all, I don't understand his concern for me – if I assume that his intentions are pure. I am, after all, just another initiate. "I'll keep that in mind." I say stiffly, turning back to wash the cup and then placing it on the drying rack.
The instructor sighs heavily, rubbing his face like he's speaking to a stubborn child; perhaps I am one. His frustration is unsurprising, my lack of emotion and bluntness would put anyone off. He turns towards the door, taking a step past the threshold. "Well then, good luck."
The dining hall is just as crowded and deafening as yesterday. Scooping up some pasta and a blueberry muffin, I make my way to Riley. Between the rowdy Dauntless-born and the sickly girl, Riley would give me the silence I crave. Well, I hope she would.
The girl was dumbstruck when I drop my plate in front of her. I don't waste a moment before digging in, not looking at the Candor to discourage her from speaking up.
At one point of me gobbling down my spaghetti, the dining hall goes silent. I crane my neck to the door in curiosity. Eric stands at the entrance, giving the place a cursory glance. His eyes stop at my direction briefly, but that could just be my imagination. "This always happens when he enters." A male voice whisper beside me. My body jerks violently at the unexpected intrusion, knees knocking onto the table. I groan in pain, no doubt a bruise already forming. Jace sits beside me, his food half eaten. I glare at him as he puts up his hands defensively. I'm not sure how long he's been sitting beside me. Skylar and Zack are still with the rest of Dauntless-born; their conversations starting back up.
"Right." Riley is staring between me and him rapidly, her brain trying to put the puzzle pieces together; whatever they are.
"Are you-" She starts.
My mouth immediately moves to intercept her. "This is Riley." I introduce, plastering a smile for good measure. Jace's face brightens as he introduces himself. The pair immediately kicks off in conversation; Riley glad to finally have someone to ramble to. Taking it as my cue, I excuse myself, grabbing my tray and disposing the wastes.
I spend the first part of the evening at the Pit. Remembering the absurd temperatures at night, I pick out a zip-up maroon hoodie with the Dauntless symbol in white at the back. I also buy another blanket and a pair of ear plugs, for future target practices. The cashier informs me that I've ran out of points for the week; I pray that I won't need anything else.
Making a detour to the dorms to drop off my items, I head back to the training room. The clock only reads 8:30pm, which is still early enough to hang out with friends, but I really rather not socialize. The training room is just as empty as I left it, flicking on a single light in the middle of the room, I start jogging in a steady pace.
I think about my dogs, like I always does when I'm alone. My heart squeezes in my chest. I miss them. Flashes of my dogs playing in the fields cross my mind, Hawk and Sabre wrestling each other on the grass. Sabre would always win, with him being bigger, faster, and stronger. The only time Hawk ever wins is when we move through the trees. The sandy dog will jump on me as leverage before running up the tree. Most of the time when that happens, Hawk will bark at me as a heads-up, otherwise I will suffer a scratch from being knocked into the ground face-first. Sabre gets pretty frustrated when Hawk does that, considering that the he has only mastered fence leaping. Sabre and Hawk are inseparable, both of them bring out the puppy side of each other.
How would they adapt to life here at Dauntless? There are no railings and a slip could result in them plummeting to their deaths. Dread begins to fill me as I realized that my plan wasn't as thought-out as it should be.
Would Max even agree for me to import the dogs over? I've yet to see a single animal here walking around in the Dauntless compound. I can't figure out if that's because pets are banned or people just don't want them.
No.
I shake my head, an attempt to rid my thoughts. Thinking about the dogs and all the ways everything can screw over makes me depressed, and I didn't come to Dauntless to be depressed. My legs start to burn from running and I suddenly feel stuffy. I strip off my tank top, leaving me in my sports bra. The removed material makes the air cold around my abdomen and chest. It'll do.
Focusing on the burning sensation on my legs, I continue to complete circuit upon circuit, one step over the next. More than an hour had passed since I started, a fine sheen of sweat coats my body. I wipe my face, the tank top in my hand damp.
"Training ended four hours ago." A voice rumbles around the room.
I jump out of my skin, immediately recognizing the owner. I nearly collided at a table as I skid to a stop, heart beating even faster than it has been. When did he even enter?"Eric." Amazingly, my voice is even.
"Tree-hugger." I don't turn to look at him, choosing to head to the water dispenser. I'm not sure if it's because I'm afraid to see his face, or that I'm afraid that he'll see mine – panicked and red. "Why are you here?" There's a shuffle of footsteps.
My grip on the cup tightens in my hand as I fill it with water. I click off the faucet and finally turn to face him, feeling slightly calmer. Eric stands below the light, saving me from the embarrassment of having to locate him in the dark. His arms are crossed and he wears his sleeveless vest. The handsome leader has an eyebrow quirked up, his microdermals reflecting off the fluorescent beams. "Running." I bring the cup to my lips; the water tastes sweet.
His eyes don't hold the hostility during training, but I can't place what he's thinking. He hums in response. "You know…" His eyebrow smooths down. "You're the first initiate I've come across who trains after hours." Eric's voice is deep and rich, something that I could listen for hours, regardless of what he's saying.
I enter the light, stopping a few feet in front of him. Eric scans my outfit in less than a second before locking his gaze on mine. How honorable.
Perhaps he's taken; the possibility makes my stomach churn irritatingly. "I'm glad I'm making an impression then." I say. Eric cocks his head to the side, he looks just like the man on the fence. I blink a few times. The Erudite in me reasons again that a leader doesn't have any reason to be at the fence. But still, the resemblance is uncanny.
"Which leads me to believe that, you're doing more than just running." The gears in his head shifts, calculating. I straighten my spine to stifle my surprise; he notices. "If I didn't know any better, I would say you're trying to forget something."
My face tenses before it can go slack in shock.
Eric, a person I've only spoken twice to, has already worked out the reasons behind my actions. Either this man is truly ingenious or very observant – which I highly doubt since he knows pretty much nothing about me.
I don't break his gaze. On one hand, I want to snap that it's none of his business; but on the other, I want to confide with someone about all the sorrow that's been building up ever since I left the ones I love. A wave of despair flows through me.
I miss my dogs.
Most of my time in Dauntless was spent reminiscing about all the moments I had with them: the training, the playing, the chasing, the hugging, the sleeping. These dogs mean everything, and I left them. Nothing was ever enough to keep me from thinking about the four-legged trio; not shopping, not eating, not showering, not training. My mind continuously betrays me as it strays back to my past. My heart clenches painfully at the thought of my dogs providing me comfort in situations like these. But they're not here.
So, my body does the next best thing: cry. My eyes start stinging and I look away. I suddenly regret grabbing the cup of water, because it prevents me from making a speedy escape. Eric's still staring; I no longer know what he's thinking. Anger? Concern? Disgust? I wait for him to reprimand me for still clinging on to my old faction, but he doesn't. Yet, I want him to. I want him to force me to stop missing them, to stop thinking about them.
Screw it, I'll bring the cup back tomorrow.
I side step around him to move get to the door, but he shoots out with hands large enough that they encircle the width of my forearm. He doesn't turn to face me, his front facing the opposite direction as me. A moment passes between us, I don't move to speak up, neither does he. Finally, he sighs, at the loss for words. Loosening his grip, I dash out the training room with tears glistening. I'm glad he didn't speak, for I don't think I could've held it in if he did. I don't look back.
I spend the night wrapped up in my hoodie and new blanket like a cocoon, the other blanket added for good measure. That night I dream about my dogs and the fields – a life I left behind.
A/N
This is a short one, I'm sorry. I was supposed to update this and the next one together, but it's pretty late and I have a speech tomorrow :'D
I'm also sorry that I went MIA for a few days. I was on vacation with my graduating class and thought that I could still edit and post :P
I can't post in advance even though I wrote the chapters already, usually I go through it again and add content so it isn't so choppy (like this one) but anyways, I should be able to focus on the story after tomorrow, once I'm done with my speech.
I got cut in my foot really badly when I was out in the sea. It looks like it's getting infected but I think it's only the skin that's still there that's causing it. I would like to thank my dogs for biting me earlier this year, cause I don't need to worry about tetanus atm.