𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝟎𝟎𝟏

Even June was speechless, lips zipped tight as she glared down at the aisles of perfectly separated colored clothes. Like she was just waiting for something to happen.

Nearing the very end of the ceremony, families were starting to grow restless and bubbles of low chatter rose up through the still, early-summer air like swarms of honeybees. Johanna never once raised her voice to quiet them. Nor did she need to, because the next name she called out made everyone snap their mouths shut immediately upon hearing it.

Every breathing day you curse yourself for not remembering the stupid name. Your mind must have traveled elsewhere right up until your eyes caught a lone boy in a stiff navy blue blazer rising from his chair and stepping out into the aisle.

After observing a few dozen choosers, you started to notice a pattern. Heads ducked low, hands clutched tight into fists, eyes darting rapidly across the valley. But the Erudite boy shared none of these traits with those who chose before him. He approached the wooden stage with the same confidence as a usurper marching toward his new throne.

You sat up straighter and inched forward until you were teetering on the edge of the hilltop. June reached out to pull you back by the knot of your apron but stopped herself short. Any further and you would've been spotted, but you didn't care about any of that then.

Silence enveloped the valley as the boy reached down and took the ceremonial dagger in his right hand. He turned it back and forth in his grasp, admiring how the silver blade caught on the lamplight. Just when you thought he was about to slice his left palm, per the ritual, you had to hold back a gasp as he turned to scan the audience, promptly locking eyes with you.

You remembered feeling overwhelmingly sad for him, despite not even remembering his name. He looked uncomfortable within his own skin. His stare was strong and he furrowed his brows in a self-righteous leer that was only partly mixed with the confusion of meeting your gaze. While you hadn't locked eyes for more than a moment, the message behind his look was clear.

Watch me.

He didn't look away even as he drew the blade to his skin and swiped it across his open palm, drawing a thin stripe of blood and maneuvering to squeeze it over an unmarked bed of hot coals.

"Dauntless!"

The silence was shattered by an uproar from both Erudite and Dauntless. The boy acknowledged none of the cries of betrayal, maneuvering through the crowds of people to take his seat amongst the other Dauntless transfers. He denounced his home faction with such ease that it put you on edge.

That sick feeling stuck with you long after the ceremony ended. You watched from your bedroom window as the last of the busses fled the Amity fields, knowing that he was on one of them. Knowing somehow that he wasn't looking back.

{ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 }

The amphitheater was hot and crowded when Amity finally arrived on the scene. The other factions were murmuring amongst themselves in their allotted columns and hushed conversations hung low in the air, swirling around you as you made your way to your seat near the very front of the room. The seating was arranged in a series of small rings, like ripples on a smooth pond.

You tried not to let your eyes wander to the illuminated stage as your people filed in, but it was nearly possible to ignore the centerpiece of the event—the long white table which held five deep ceramic bowls. You knew without having to peer within that each bowl held a series of items that represented the values of each faction.

Water for Erudite - pure, but easily muddled.

Glass shards for Candor - transparent, but sharp and dangerous.