Four is All I Trust

Choosing Day

It was choosing day. That morning I put on my old Dauntless cloths, which sit only slightly tighter than they had years ago. They were all black. A plain t-shirt, leather jacket, simple leggings and sturdy boots. It looked slightly strange for a Candor not to wear any white, but black was common enough that I didn't completely stick out.

Me and my father are driven to the choosing ceremony in an electric car, a luxury in the modern world. When we enter the large room where children had chosen for years I hear the hum of many voices overlapping. Father sits in a chair near the centre of the Candor circle and I find my spot in the line of kids.

Though being the youngest one standing I'm still the tallest. I will be called early in the ceremony; my last name is Blood. I focus as kids choose their faction, their new family, with varying amounts of certainty. To many of the transfers it seems like a hard choice, but I was sure of what I was.

Finally, my name was called and I walked toward the five massive bowls, one for each faction. I hold the knife I was handed for a moment before digging the tip into the edge of my palm. I let it bleed freely as I turn slowly to the Dauntless bowl. The coals are glowing orange and have a danger to them that makes them beautiful. I push my hand above the bowl as an image of my father flashes behind my eyelids. A drop of blood falls into the coals, sizzling loudly. I was Dauntless.

A smile breaks onto my face from the moment I see the crowd of humans that shared my faction once again. This was where I belonged. This was my family.