Chapter 5:

"A smooth sea

never made a

skillful sailor"

- English Proverb

When my eyes opened the next morning, they fully dilated due to the complete darkness I was submerged in. I was accustomed to having hazy dusk or feeble grey light shine through my bedroom window, so the pitch black startled me for a moment. And then it hit me- I was no longer at home. This lumpy mattress with its spring digging into my shoulder was not my plush bed, and the animal like snoring certainly did not belong to my parents. I was in a Dauntless dormitory.

I rolled onto my side and wondered what time it was. There was no outside light filtering in that would give me any indication. I looked towards the door though, and saw the time displayed by neon red letters. Six thirteen am. I sighed, after months of sneaking around with Alexander, my body was used to waking up early. But considering the training to come, I could probably use the sleep.

My eyes shot over to the clock again and I considered the positives to getting up early. I could use the disgusting bathroom and shower in relative privacy. And I could eat and digest my breakfast before training begun. With those somewhat appealing ideas in mind, coupled with the fact that falling back asleep would be nearly impossible, I quietly slipped out of bed and tiptoed into the bathroom.

I cringed at the feeling of the filthy floor beneath my bare feet, but conceded that I had no other option. So I quickly stripped out of my clothes and stepped into the shower. Needless to say this was one of the shortest showers of my life. The water was neither warm nor cold, but somewhere in between. I took the chunk of grey soap and quickly scrubbed my body with it before running the shampoo through my hair. There was no conditioner, face wash, or razors. But I was just grateful that I was clean, and that I would possibly be able to purchase some toiletries after training was done for the day.

When I returned to the bunks already wearing my tight black pants and long sleeved shirt, I noticed that another person was also awake.

"Hey," the boy whispered, and we both cringed at the slight echo. But no one seemed to wake up. "It's Lyra right?"

I nodded, "And you're Henry," I said already knowing the answer. Henry was another transfer from Erudite. I didn't live near him, nor share very many classes with him. And if I recall he was more involved in mathematical courses than scientific ones. But Liz had had a huge crush on the blonde haired, brown- eyed boy before she had begun dating Victor, so I probably knew more about him than he did about me.

I could barely make out his smile in the dark, "Yeah. I guess you're an early riser too."

I resisted the urge to make a sarcastic barb at his remarkable observation, but stopped myself. I didn't want to isolate, or make a target of myself to anyone because of my acid tongue. So I hummed my agreement instead.

"Want to grab breakfast together?" Henry asked.

I spared one more glance at the digital clock above the doorway. Six twenty-five. We weren't expected at the training room until eight. But I suspected it would take me sometime to force some food down with my stomach tied in nervous knots. So I agreed with a nod.

It appeared as though both Henry and I would have to work at our stealth skills in the future, and how to better navigate. Because we clomped through the rocky passageways without much success. Twice we took a wrong turn and ended up near the chasm Four had warned us against. We had wasted at least forty minutes before we finally made it to the Dining Hall. My sore feet were not happy with my detours, but my stomach had finally awoken and demanded breakfast.

And I discovered that Henry was not such bad company after all. He spoke a lot about his younger brother and how he would miss him, but he also traded speculations with me about what was to come. And Henry had been in Erudite, so he could understand to some extent the homesickness that prickled at my mind.

"I wonder what Dauntless serves for breakfast?" Henry mused as we walked up to the cafeteria line.

I shrugged. Erudites usually ate fruit or yogurt. Light foods that would provide energy. But if Dauntless were constantly working out they probably needed food that was more heavily saturated with carbohydrates and protein.

We took a moment to survey the platter of muffins, omelets and thick milkshakes. Bacon wafted under my nose, making my mouth water. I grabbed a couple of muffins, just incase Justice and Ian didn't wake up in time, along with some bacon. Henry and I easily found an empty, which was not surprising considering the early hour. But then again I didn't know what time Dauntless usually started their days at.

"What do you think we will be doing today?" I asked him, before pulling the wrap off my bran muffin.

Henry shrugged, "Four said initiation tests us physically, emotionally, and mentally. But he didn't say what order they test us in. Personally I think physically first. It sounds the hardest, but I think it will be the easiest step."

It might be easy for Henry seeing as he was tall with an athletic build, but my shoulders sagged slightly at the thought. I knew I was not physically prepared for whatever was to come. Sure I was in okay shape. I ate relatively healthy and had been running for the last couple of months. But I was not muscular by any means. And I wanted a few more days to accumulate my body to this new setting and new routines before being thrown to the wolves. However, I knew that was far too much to ask for. If they wanted us to jump off a roof on our first day, I couldn't imagine what was to come next.

"You're probably right," I said grumpily.

Henry had clearly picked up on my melancholy, "Don't worry, I'm sure you will do fine."

I sincerely hoped he was right.

After finishing our breakfast we both hurriedly walked back to the dormitories, thankfully not getting lost. When we arrived back it was seven thirty-five and most of the other transfers were groggily milling about. Justice was still sprawled out on her cot, snoring lightly.

I hesitated, not feeling as though we were close enough friends to get into her personal space by waking her. But then again, I'm sure she wouldn't appreciate being late. Four did clearly state that tardiness was not tolerated. I glanced over at Ian, the dilemma clear on my face and he smirked at me, taking a huge bite out of the muffin I had given him.

"Good luck waking the beast," he sing-songed.

I scowled at him, "Some help you are!"

He chuckled, "I like my limbs where they are."

I snorted, "Drama queen," before shaking Justice's shoulder lightly.

She groaned into her threadbare pillow and swatted her hand at me. Ian and I may have exchanged humorous looks.

"Justice wake up. Four is going to be here soon to take us to the training room. And I don't want to know what he does to people who are late!"

She groaned and finally blinked open dark tired eyes, "What time is it?"

"Almost quarter to eight," Ian replied from the edge of his cot.

Justice sat up quickly, the colour draining from her face. "Shit! I'm not going to have time to shower."

I nodded my head at both her statements. Not that the showers were anything to write home about, but they were still better than nothing. "I brought you food," I said offering her the muffin.

She greedily grasped the muffin and took a huge bite out of it. Groaning she said through her mouthful, "You're the best!"

"Truer words have never been spoken," Ian agreed, as he dusted the crumbs of his own muffin off his black cargo pants.

With no shame Justice scrambled out of bed, muffin hanging from her mouth, and shucked her sleep shorts off. Not that she had anything to be remotely ashamed of I noted before averting my eyes. Justice was gorgeous in a non- stereotypical way. Long legs, dark skin, straight hair, proud nose. When I typically thought of beauty I considered the Caroline Lumleys of the world, but Justice now replaced that image. And I was much more okay with that.

"I know Four said we can't ever be late, but he didn't actually show us where the training room was," Ian nervously stated.

This thought had already crossed my mind, but I wasn't worried. I didn't think any of us were expected to be able to navigate these maze like passages in less than a day. In fact, Dauntless leaders would probably be upset if someone could manage it- bad security and all. So I fully anticipated that if not Four, than someone else would be coming to get us.

"I'm sure someone will show us the way," I reassured. But I fully expected this to be the last day someone helped us around here during initiation.

And just as the words had left my mouth, the dormitory door abruptly swung open, clanging against the jagged wall with force. Everyone's eyes snapped to the figure standing in it and the last remnants of sleep faded from eyes. We all straightened to attention like the good little soldiers we were to become.

Four took his time surveying everyone for a moment. His eyes narrowed briefly on where Claire stood still in her pajama bottoms. "Everyone follow me and pay attention. This will be the only time I show you where the training room is."

As we all lined up single file behind Four, Claire went to snatch her pants when Four's harsh voice snapped at her "You were to be ready at eight am. Apart from today, you will be expected to be in the training room at eight. Therefore you can wear what you have on."

Claire's face flushed to match her red hair, but she remained silent, joining the end of the line clad in black pajama bottoms. Thankfully I was not near Four and his apparent grumpy morning personality (I hoped he wasn't always like this), finding myself near the back of the line. I could hear Fern snickering at Claire's misfortune.

The group of us choked down any complaints we may have had about the early hour or having to force our foggy minds to remember the way to the training room. When we finally made it, I was slightly underwhelmed. This particular Dauntless training room was a vast open space. It had mats pushed up against a wall and a boxer's ring in the center. On the opposite wall target dummies were lined up. And that was it. No fancy machinery, no treadmills, no gun cabinets... How did they all get so buff?

But then again considering to actually enter or leave the compound you had to jump on and off trains, it was easy to see how all the Dauntless stayed in shaped. Thinking about last night though, I reconsidered. They had to have at least a weight room around here somewhere because the leader we met couldn't have gained biceps the size of tires without pumping some serious iron.

Four stopped abruptly before an empty wall and turned around. We all stared nervously at him. I could already feel my heart starting to pick up rhythm in my chest.

"Spread out," he ordered. We did as we were told and fanned out behind him. "During initiation you are ranked based on how well you perform at each task," Four briskly informed, "Today that task will be firing a gun."

My eyebrows shot to my hairline. It was day two and they already trusted us with hardcore weapons? Were they crazy?

"Dauntless are placed in charge of the city's security, therefore each of you need to familiarize yourselves with weapons. Even if you don't end up with a security position after initiation, this knowledge will benefit you in an emergency situation. So pay attention," he barked at Patrick who was sleepily scratching his neck.

In a few more moments Four was pushing a gun into my unprepared hands. The metal of the weapon was cold, and heavy. I had read all about weapons in my history class, so I knew that this particular gun was in the rifle family. It had a long arm and barrel.

After quickly pinning a paper target to the wall Four simply said, "Watch me."

And if there was anything that I was particularly good at, it was learning. So before Four even fired his weapon my eyes scoured his body. I took note of the way Four planted his feet not quite a shoulder's width apart, both facing directly forward. When he raised the gun he placed the barrel parallel with his straight left arm. He held the gun with a firm, but not overly tight grip, and lowered his eye to the scope, instead of raising it to his face. Quicker than my eyes could catalogue he let out three consecutive shots.

My eyes remained on his form though, instead of the target. I already knew he had hit bulls' eye on all three. He wouldn't be in the position of trainer if he were anything but perfect. Instead I watched how the throwback from the force of the projected bullet should have pushed the handle into Four's shoulder, but he moved his body with the gun. Finally when he lowered the weapon my eyes darted over to the target. I was right; three bullets left one big smoking hole in the middle of the paper target.

"Now its your turn," he simply said, walking back towards the front of the line.

I bit my lip- he hadn't given us much instruction. But maybe that was the point. We were supposed to learn for ourselves, adapt to our environments. This could all be part of testing whether or not we were Dauntless material. I may not have been sure before if I was right for Dauntless, but this is what I had chosen and I was not going to be factionless.

Justice traded a nervous look with me before she positioned her rifle. She wasn't holding it right, but I held my tongue. She would have to deal with her own shortcomings, just like I would with mine.

I looked down at my feet and made sure that they were close to a shoulder width apart. Slowly I raised the gun, trying to fit my hands around it so it wouldn't feel so awkward. It didn't really work, my hands were simply too small for a weapon this size. But I was determined. I aligned the gun with my shoulder and lowered my eye to the scope. By the time I lined the barrel up with the bulls- eye most people had already fired their first rounds, and my arm muscles were already protesting. I moved my face back slightly and squeezed the trigger, trying to let my body move with the gun as it pushed back. But the force was more powerful than I anticipated and I stumbled back a step.

When I lowered the gun my arm felt immediate relief. I looked at my target and to my immense pleasure a burned hole was sitting in one of the three inner circles. I didn't let the pride surface on my face though. When I raised my gun again, I felt Four's presence behind me, observing my movements. I lined everything up again and took another shot. This time I was able to prevent my foot from stepping back at the force.

"You have a good aim," Four said from behind me. I did not turn around to acknowledge him until I heard the 'but'. "But you take too long. In real life you don't have time to line up and take you shot."

When I turned around I knew my chin was tilted up stubbornly, but I was practically powerless to stop it. "Isn't the point of training to familiarize us with the techniques, so they will be perfected by the time that we would potentially have to use them?"

Four's eyes narrowed. I heard the firing around me cease until Four shouted, "I didn't say stop!" He walked closer to me, and regret lodged its way into my throat. "You have a smart mouth," Four said in a low voice, "And a calculating brain, but you need to learn how to turn your thoughts off and rely on instinct."

I quickly nodded before turning around and lifting my gun again, ignoring the protests in my upper arms. Four hadn't exactly got me in trouble, but he had told me that I had to shut off the tool that I had always relied on the most- my brain. And I just didn't know if that was possible. But as I fired off more rounds I found my body fitting into a familiar pattern. I didn't need to look at my feet or angle my arms, they did that automatically.

After an immeasurable amount of time though, I felt like my shots were getting sloppier instead of improving. I could no longer ignore the ache in my arm muscles, and the now throbbing bruise on my shoulder. As much as I wanted to work through the pain, my body was putting up a good fight. I was so focused on trying to simultaneously squeeze the trigger with my numb index finger, ignore the jelly-like feeling of my biceps, and not wince at the gun handle kicking back into a what was surely a dark purple mark on my shoulder that I did not notice the door swing open or the menacing figure move through it.

I did notice however when Four called us to a stop, my shoulder sagging with relief, and my finger fighting to uncurl itself. I looked to my left to see Ian cracking his neck and beyond him Ben slumping his shoulders.

"Initiates!" Four calls, and we all turn around to face him. My spine automatically straightened when I saw the muscular giant from last night standing next to him, completely at ease in a room full of amateurs holding guns.

"This is Eric," Four formally introduced, "he is one of the five Dauntless leaders, and he will be overseeing some of your training to help determine your rankings.

I watched as Eric's calculating blue eyes swept over every single one of us. When his eyes scanned me I felt goosebumps spread across my flesh. There was something incredibly unnerving at having Eric look at you. His physical presence was about as subtle as a slap in the face. He was tall with thick shoulders and arms that rippled with power. I didn't have to see the rest of his body to know it was corded with steel muscles. Thick tribal tattoos wrapped around his forearms and caressed his neck, adding to his menacing vibe. His sheer masculinity was overwhelming and the vicious smile sitting on those pierced lips only put me more on edge.

"Initiation is different this year," Eric said, his voice a low husky rumble. "Usually people only end up factionless when they quit or fail the tests. However beginning this year, we will only be accepting the top twenty initiates into Dauntless."

Dead silence hung in the air. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears.

Eric smirked at the horrified expressions I'm sure we were all wearing. "Thirty- four of you made it here last night, that means fourteen of you will be heading back out by the end of the summer."

"Why have they changed the rules?" Ben angrily demanded.

I closed my eyes for a moment at his stupidity. His Candor affinities were going to have to be stifled soon or else he would not be welcomed in Dauntless.

Eric's eyes snapped over to Ben, who looked like he choked on his saliva once his brain finally caught up with his mouth and he realized whom he had just questioned.

Eric's slow stroll over to where Ben was standing reminded me of a predator approaching particularly stupid prey. He looked like he was going to toy with him first. "Are you questioning me initiate?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

But he might as well have screamed it for the fear that had obviously flooded Ben's system.

"No, sir," Ben mumbled, but I could see the humiliated anger burning in his eyes.

"Dauntless only accepts the best," Eric said while slowly circling Ben's shifty form. The two matched each other in height, but Eric's muscles made him almost twice as thick. "I'm assuming Four informed you how you will be ranked."

Four who was not so subtly glaring at Eric nodded. Eric smirked, "Carry on then," before striding back over to Four. While everyone else got back into position, I fumbled with the gun, keeping my eye on the two. Four's stiff posture and rigid jaw betrayed his feelings- Eric was not someone he considered a friend. And I had a feeling Eric knew it, but liked flaunting his obvious dominance.

When I ran out of reasons to stall and watch the pair, I raised my gun again. It felt heavier than before and my entire body protested, but I powered through it. Nothing screams motivation more than having the two people with the power to make you factionless watching. When it came to tests and recitals I always worked well under pressure, but these circumstances were completely different, so I immediately banished them from my mind. I was so focused on my target that I didn't notice when he left the room.

By the time Four called us to stop my muscles were shaking with strain and my hair was plastered to my forehead. My arms felt like rubber. I looked beside me and Justice was panting as if she had just given birth. Never in my life had I consider that simply shooting a gun would require so much energy! Never had I been so grateful for lunch.

If it wasn't for Ian clapping one thick finger on Justice's and my shoulders and pushing, I don't think we would have made it to the cafeteria very well. I was slightly worried that I felt more tired than my competitors, but when I gazed around at all the other transfers I noticed that all of them were heaving with exhaustion. Fern had dark purple bruises under her eyes and Claire was leaning on Patrick for support. I hoped that I was better at hiding my exhaustion. And nervousness singed through me- I wondered how the Dauntless-born group was faring. Surely they would be used to these kinds of activities.

Over lunch Henry joined Justice, Ian and I. We all discussed the events of the morning, being extra careful with our words, not wanting anyone to think we were complaining. And then we traded speculations of what the afternoon would have in store for us. Would it be more shooting? Physical fights? Obstacle course? All I knew was that I ate as much food as I could to replenish my energy, and that lunch was over far too quickly.

When lunch was over it seemed as though our entire group had heaved a collected sigh of reluctance and trailed back down to the training rooms as slow as possible with a time limit. Four was once again standing in slight shadows waiting for us. Large punching bags were now hanging or propped up on the left portion of the room.

"We are going to give your arm muscles time to heal and rest this afternoon and start kickboxing," Four said quiet murmuring broke out among the group. Everyone seemed much more agreeable and confident with their own bodies than they did at having to use the gun. "Everyone line up in front of a bag," Four instructed. "Watch."

I once again took to observing his form as he demonstrated the correct techniques to fight with the lower half of the body. He used the blunt side of his foot to make sharp jabs at bag. I watched as one powerful kick left the bag veering back to almost a forty-five degree angle. As the bag swung back, Four blocked it from hitting him with his shin.

"Now you try," he said after catching the bag.

I once again blocked everything around me out. I took a mental overlook of my body. My feet were firmly planted on the ground, angled towards the punching bag. My hips were at a slight angle, with my right side jutting out slightly where I would lift my leg. I tightened my midsection, but let my still sore arms hand loose. I finally lifted my foot up so it was at about shoulder level and kicked at the bag with the side of my foot.

The bag swung slightly, but if anything, I was off-balanced more than it.

I caught the bag with my hands and out of the corner of my eye saw Ian send one powerful kick at the bag, and it go flying back. I let out a huff and repositioned planting my left foot more firmly, and kicking out with more force with my right. I still stumbled, but not as much.

Four kept us doing various kicking drills all afternoon, and by the time we were dismissed for dinner, I was feeling less than amiable feelings towards him. Not only were my arms sore, my legs, especially my inner thighs were burning. Dinner was a quiet affair for all of the transfers. I think we were all too exhausted to gossip with each other. My legs were sore enough that I almost didn't want to go purchase some toiletries, but the frizzy ends of my hair convinced me.

"Where are you going?" Justice asked when I stood up from our table in the Dining Hall.

"I want to go buy some toiletries."

Justice immediately jumped to her feet and then winced slightly, "I'm coming with!"

We both turned to look at Ian. He shrugged, grabbed another sausage and moved closer to Henry.

We laughed and made our way out to the Pit.

"I wish this place had a damn map," Justice snarled. "I don't really want to be climbing all over the place after what we went through today."

"Me either, and just think what will have to do tomorrow," I said, already imaging the physical hell that was to come.

Justice grimaced, "Don't remind me…"

After only fifteen minutes of searching we finally found a pharmacy like store. Justice quickly grabbed a basket and started loading it up, but I walked towards the girl at the checkout counter. She had bubblegum pink hair and makeup painted on like a cartoon character.

"Excuse me," I politely said, and the girl huffed before setting down her magazine.

"You must be a transfer," she smirked.

I tilted my head questioningly. Sure I didn't look very old, so that could account for me being an initiate, but how would she know I was a transfer?

"Dauntless aren't nearly so polite," she answered my unspoken question.

From what I could see, I agreed with her.

"How many points are transfers given?"

"One hundred a week," she replied, before picking her magazine back up, and effectively cutting me off from asking any more questions.

I turned back to Justice, "You might have to put some of that stuff back. We only get one hundred points a week."

Justice sighed and her lips pulled down. She started putting a bunch of beauty products that in my opinion she definitely didn't need back.

"I'm sure between the two of us we can get everything we need," thinking of the items that we could easily share without risking bacterial infections.

Justice brightened slightly before showing me what she had picked up. Conditioner, face scrub, pain medication.

"Nice, what else do we need?"

Justice bit her lip, "Well I would love some eyeliner and mascara. Some muscle cream would be great too."

I had never really worn makeup before unless it was to an event. Makeup was impractical. It tricked people into thinking you looked different than you really were- or so said my mother. But I didn't want Justice to pay for everything we would share and then not buy her anything. So I put two tubes of eyeliner and mascara into my basket, "You will have to show me how to put on that stuff."

"Really?" Justice questioned, gaping at me.

I shrugged before adding muscle cream to my basket. "Makeup was not encouraged in Erudite, unless we were to attend parties."

Justice shook her head in disbelief and we made our way to the check out. The girl rung us up, and we each only had about fifteen points left.

"I am going to pass out when we get back to the dorm," Justice said, swinging her bag of goodies as we walked back.

"Me too," I said, my body already slightly regretting waking up so early.

When we returned to the dorm, almost everyone was already there. And it was only eight-thirty, but more than half of the transfers were tucked into their beds. Fern, Ben and Marina were whisper chatting to each other, but stopped once Justice and I entered the room. My back straightened at what they could possibly be scheming about.

I lay down in my bed and once again my mind begun buzzing with all the thoughts it repressed during the day. Slowly the whispering around me drifted off, the darkness lulling my fellow transfers to sleep. But still my mind prickled with thoughts of initiation- I had to make it, I wouldn't be factionless.

"Are you nervous for your test," Alexander asked me, his naked body wrapped around mine.

"No. I know exactly where I belong."

Those words were echoing around in my mind. Did I really know?

A/N: Hi everyone, hope you enjoyed the chapter! We get a peek at Eric and more info about how things at Dauntless work. Thank you to everyone who read/followed/favourited and especially reviewed! I love hearing your feedback. This chapter is unedited (I am literally on my way out the door) I will be back to edit later!

Please review and let me know what you thought!

: ) Nyx