"Our potential often lies between what is, and what could be."
At first, I had believed time would come to a still, but it didn't. Even though it became the same tedious routine day in and day out. Training with Four in the training room, pushing even further than the previous day, every time making me feel like it was the last bit of energy I could dig out of myself but I had never once faltered and it always made me stronger. Every day I learnt something new. Eventually I even became quite an adequate fighter.
It had already been a weak since our first time exploring the pit. It was pretty much only Luke now who didn't have a tattoo, every other transfer initiate had already gotten one, or more. Out of the nine transfers, three already proved quite toxic. Isaac, Emil and Sophia. They had all ganged up, and their foul mood affected us all.
Grace and Aiden hadn't really teamed up with anyone, they were both shy people and mostly kept to themselves. I had tried to talk to Grace but she hadn't been up for it. Aiden on the other hand joined us more and more. Even now I couldn't help but to cast a few glances her way, she was really struggling with the physical training on her own. But I couldn't help someone who didn't accept the hand I reached out.
Four had woken us up as usual this morning, banging the metal rod against the railing, letting the sound of metal against metal sing out into the room before telling us we had ten minutes to get dressed, grab some breakfast and then meet him in the training room.
Roxy and I had been one of the first to arrive. I had begun taking great pride in being on time, showing that I really wanted it. Every fiber in my body was aching and complaining when I preformed even the smallest tasks but I mostly ignored it, it was not going to stop me.
When the trio—Isaac, Emil and Sophia—finally arrived, Four sent them a disapproving look before he reached for one of the guns that had been placed on the table beside him. Eric had joined us today and resumed his usual stance, leaned against a pillar with a grim expression while Four spoke, explaining the day's objectives. Eric would usually stick around to watch, sometimes even participate and bark orders at us but he never took over the training.
Four—now only dressed in a black t-shirt instead of his usual jacket—grasped the gun even tighter and shifted it to hold it in both hands. "Today's lesson will be on how to handle a gun." Four instructed before he quickly checked if there was a bullet in the chamber, making sure there weren't before he then hands it off to the nearest initiate—which is Grace. She jumps and grasp the gun with both hands, holding it tightly cradled against her chest.
Four proceed to do the same to every gun before he hands them out. Once everyone is cradling one of the guns, he offers a rounds of ammunition to us all. I held the two things in separate hands, afraid to do anything before Four resumed the instructions on how to handle it.
"This is no toy, and I except you all to take this seriously." Four's tone was very serious when he grabbed the last gun from the table, quickly checking the chamber before he also grabbed a round of ammunition, which he then quickly fastened to the gun and clicked a bullet into the chamber.
Slowly, I mimic his motion, aiming the gun in my hands at the ground before holding it securely against my chest, afraid to even move my fingers near the trigger. Everyone else copied the same motion, slowly arming the gun. It was a heavy object to hold in my hands, and it was even heavier with the knowledge of its destructional powers.
"We believe that preparation eradicates cowardice, which we define as the failure to act in the midst of fear." Four begin while he allow everyone to examine the weapon in their hands. I'm not in doubt just how serious he is. The moment however, is quickly destroyed by Isaac's careless nature.
"What does firing a gun have anything to do with bravery?" Isaac mutters between two yawns, not even bothering to cover them with a hand as he carelessly hold the gun out in one hand. "Anyone can shoot a gun." Isaac shrugs nonchalantly. I was certain I saw his eyes roll a little, making him oblivious to what then happened next.
Four dashed forward, quick enough to grab the gun from Isaac before flipping it around to get a better hold onto it just to point the tip directly at Isaac. It now rested against his chest, pressed into his skin as Isaac's next breath hitch in his throat. His eyes is wide with fear because he's actually scared. It almost looks quite comical if the severity of the situation hadn't been this bad.
"Wake up, you idiot!" Four snapped. "You're holding a loaded gun, not a toy!" Four scoff at the initiate, pushing the tip of the barrel against his chest. For a moment, I was unsure if he would actually pull the trigger. Anger radiated from Four before he clock the gun, emptying the chamber and threw it onto the table.
"To answer your question." Four narrowed his eyes at Isaac before he turn back to us all. "You're far less likely to soil your pants or cry for your mother, if you're prepared and know how to defend yourself." Four sneered, but mostly at Isaac. But it's also something everyone understands the severity of his words. This was serious.
"This is information you'll need later on in stage one. So, watch me closely." Four instruct. He twist his body so to face the row of plywood targets on the opposite side of the wall. It's a smooth move, and as he hunch slightly, gun held up at the ready, even resting securely against his boulder, he takes in a deep breath, steadying himself before squeezing the trigger.
The bullet hit the target, which consist of one large square of plywood with three round circles for each of us. Four had been standing with his feet in a wide stance, a secure stance but the sound of the gun being fired had been so loud I had to raise a hand to cover one of my ears while turning my head away. It had pierced through the eerie silence that had fallen between us all.
My ears were still ringing when I returned my attention to Four. He turned to face us again, still carrying a grim expression when his eyes landed on Isaac. "Now, stand before your target and try to see if you can actually manage to hit it." Four insulted, almost as if he didn't expect any of us to actually hit it today.
Frowning, I turn to the far left target, getting as much distance between Isaac and the others as I could but not before seeing how Four slams his gun into Isaac's chest. The gesture definitely telling, he was being watched and needed not be an arsehole any further. A small, satisfied smirk finds my lips and I turn my attention back to the plywood target.
I grasp the gun tightly, resuming a similar stance to the one Four had before letting my finger find the trigger. The cold metal felt soothing against my warm skin and I aimed the gun towards the target. Then the sound of multiple gunshots filled the room and I was distracted for a moment. Hesitating, I look around, many of them manage to hit their target within their first few tries. No matter how far from the center, the hit was still a hit.
Once I return my attention to the plywood target in front of me, I cannot help but notice Eric had left his position against the pillar and was now walking back and forth behind us, watching our form and the attempts we made to hit the target. Again, I was distracted from the task at hand but shook it off before resuming my stance.
Sinking just a bit deeper, I closed my right eye and aimed. Then I squeeze the trigger this time. I was completely unprepared for the sudden recoil of the gun and it slipped from my fingers. It landed on the ground with a loud metallic chatter. Most of the other initiates stop to look at me as I frantically bend down to pick it up again. Laugher then even fills the room.
Once the cold metal of the gun is securely between my fingers again, I resume the same stance but not oblivious to the fact that Eric had moved closer to me. "Well, that was pathetic." He scoffed, when coming to a halt, standing behind me. Every fiber in my body becomes rigid, awaiting his next insult. "Why don't you try again?" He asked in a dangerously sweet tone. It was even worse than the insult he first provided.
Eric stepped closer when I raised the gun again. My fingers tightened around it while I find my target once more, but I was not staying completely oblivious to the new nearness of Eric. When I squeezed the trigger this time, I was prepared for the recoil and managed to keep the gun in my hands. The silence that followed afterwards was almost worse, then a pair of hands grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to stand even further sideways.
A foot then guides mine further apart as I continue to face the target. Then a hand brushes against mine, guiding my thumb to rest above the trigger. "Keep your thumb away from the trigger. Rest the gun against your shoulder. Let it take the force of the recoil." Eric instructed. His tone completely different towards me, and very low. The entire time, I kept looking at him from the corner of my eye, watching his every move, uncertain of his true intentions.
When Eric retracted from me again, clearly having realized his actions as well, I returned my focus to the target of plywood. He had been close enough for me to smell his cologne again, and it was not helping. I force the realization out of my head with a deep exhale before I squeeze the trigger again. This time I manage to hit the target, no matter how far away from the center it was, it was still a hit.
I smiled rather satisfied, and dared cast a glance toward Eric. He had already resumed his previous stance against one of the iron pillars supporting the roof. His scowl even grimmer than before. Something was visibly bothering him. The man confused me more than any other person I had met in dauntless up until now. His want for cruelty and unfairness was unequaled and unprecedented but also had to come from some underlying trauma. There was more to this man. There had to be.
A large part of me wanted to unravel every layer there was to Eric but it was only until I reminded myself, he was a goddamn leader, and not one I would come within a mile off. Clenching my jaw in annoyance, I returned my focus to the target in front of me. I brushed some of my blond hair away from my shoulder and shook the remnant of the thoughts out of my head before raising the gun again.
I managed to hit the target one more time, and when Roxy finally lowered her own gun to look at my target, she gave me a bright smile. "Well done!" She chirped even though her target was full of holes. I raised an eyebrow, gesturing to her target and she only grinned wider. "I mean it." Rox continued before raising her gun again.
I chuckled and mimicked her disrespectfully, but still in a playful way. Unfortunately, I didn't manage to hit the target a single time more after Eric had corrected on me. I groaned loudly and lowered the gun when realizing. It allowed me to look at Luke and Roxy's targets again. They were both already full of holes.
"Statistically speaking you should have hit the target at least once, even by accident." Luke said from the other side of Roxy after he had lowered his weapon when noticing my stare. His words made me lower my own before redirecting my attention to him. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and only did it mentally.
"I know what the statistics says." I frown, visibly annoyed as Roxy also lower her gun to listen in. Luke was just as much Erudite as I had been. "But if you haven't already seen I do not follow the statistics." I add to the amusement of the others. They laugh before raising their guns again. It wasn't good to remain idle for too long, especially with Eric standing so close by. His foul growl was not one you wanted directed at you.
I dared to cast a glance at the two instructors not far behind me. Eric and Four stood not far from me on my left, clearly discussing something in a low whisper. Eric had his back turned halfway towards me, and as if I had announced my curious gaze, he looked at me from the corner of his eyes. I held his gaze for a couple of seconds before turning back at Roxy again. Luke had just commented on her well hit target.
I was certain Roxy blushed at the comment. Her fiddling with the gun in her hands and a strand of hair made me even more certain. A low chuckle escaped me before I raised my gun again, determined to hit my target at least once more before lunch. A goal that shouldn't be too unrealistic.
Unfortunately, that didn't happen. I was a little annoyed at myself when we made our way towards the dining hall at lunch. I was especially annoyed with my own poor presentation of skills, and lack of actually hitting the target. Nothing the others did could cheer me up because I knew it was an important skill to have in dauntless.
When we returned to the training room after lunch, the guns had been replaced with knives, evenly spread on the table where we had returned our guns earlier. A twinge of disappointment filled me because I had hoped to improve my poor performance.
At the table's other end stood Eric, casually handling a knife. His fingers played with it, shifting its position between them before throwing it into the air and catching it again effortlessly. Show off. I snorted to myself and crossed my arms. I pouted for a while before my curiously forced me to divert my face back to him. The dangerous handling of the knife didn't seem to bother anyone.
I arched a brow, watching him handle the knife quite disrespectfully, not showing an ounce of respect for the weapon that was in his hand. Once again as if I had announced my stare, he knew I was looking at him. Eric lifted his gaze and shifted his attention to me. The blue eyes narrowed before he effortlessly threw the knife towards one of the plywood targets on my left, his right.
It buried itself dead center. His smirk told me he didn't even need to look to know he had hit the target. I arched a brow at him, a frown claiming my lips and eradicating the slightly impressed expressions that had been there when he threw the knife. My frown only made his smirk widen into a grin before he picked up another knife from the table.
I watched him play with it again while we waited for the rest of the transfer initiates to arrive as well. He even used it to clean the underside of his nails, not showing an ounce of respect for the sharp weapon. As I watched him, only one thought dominated my mind. Perhaps I would suck at this just as much as I did with the gun shooting.
In the time it took the last transfer initiate to arrive, my gaze had shifted to the score board behind Eric. I was around halfway, not a part of the worst nor the best, just adequate. I heaved a sigh when Four finally arrived as well, half expecting it would be he who would step forth to instruct us, I turn my attention to him, however, this time it's Eric who steps forth.
"I suppose you all know what this is." Eric sounded unbothered as he looked at us all. He spoke like one who was incredibly bored. "This small instrument may one day save your life, so listen carefully." He barked the command before he threw another knife towards the target on his right. Again it hits the target dead center, wobbling a little before stilling its motion.
"Make the knife an extension of your arm." Eric instructed, his tone a bit different as if it had sparked a passion in him. Eric returned to the target and pulled both the knives out before he turned to us again. He then resumed his stance, wide like when shooting a gun, but more sideways as he slowly retracts his arm behind his head. It's as if he does it in slow motion this time.
With one smooth move, he throws the knife at the target, not missing once again. "Like that." Eric instructed after he had shifted out of his stance. The leader turned to us again before he gestured for the table. Everyone scrambled to it and grabbed a few knives.
My fingers securely wrap around the handle of three small knives, making sure not to gab to high up because I could already see just how sharp they were. Again, I move to the target furthest to my left. I was facing the plywood target at the far end, as far away as I could from Issac. Luke, Elijah, and Roxy join me as well. Roxy sends me a reassuring smile, already aware of my fears. She read me like an open book.
I shift two of the knives into my right hand unconsciously before grabbing the third with my left. I allow my body to guide me, fingers securely wrapped around the cold metal handle of the knife. The knife feels heavy in my hand but I try to suppress the thoughts as I slowly retract my arm behind my head. With one strong throw, I hurl the knife at the target. Somehow it hits the target. The knife buried itself in the center, not far from the small dot that marked it.
My expression said it all as I stared at the knife wobbling a bit. My apparent state of shock alarmed Roxy at my left side just as her fist throw misses. The knife bounces of the target, then scattered to the floor before sliding towards her feet, scraping the floor in the process.
"O!" Roxy squealed, pulling me out of my current state. "How did you manage that?" Roxy continued, lowering the next knife in her hand. I tore my gaze away from the knife to look at her. With a small shrug I turn back to the target when she picked up the knife that had landed at her feet.
"I have no idea." I swallow, taking one of the knives into my free hand. I allowed my fingers to play with it like Eric had done before raising my hand again, however, this time I had only manage to raise it to my head when I realized what I was doing. I was throwing with my left hand, not my right, which I thought was my dominant hand.
Confused, I looked at the knife in my left hand but when I tried raising the other knife in my right hand it just felt wrong. Conflicted, I raised my left hand again and threw the knife at the target, once again it buried itself in the target, inches from the other knife—I was good at this—there was finally something I was good at.
I never once missed the target while throwing the knives at it. Roxy on the other hand struggled and only managed to hit the target a few times but she wasn't the only one. Everyone had a hard time, except me of course.