We believe in facing that fear no matter what the cost to our comfort, our happiness, or even our sanity.
We believe in shouting for those who can only whisper, in defending those who cannot defend themselves.
We do not believe in living comfortable lives.
- From the Dauntless Faction Manifesto
•••
My palm stings as I place the knife down. I'm handed a small bandage to cover my hand as I look over at my new faction. A sea of black, rather than grey. Different. New. Selfish. Brave. Home.
I feel numb as I walk towards the Dauntless, as if the pain is being reserved for another place, another time. The Dauntless cheer as they open their arms for me, swallowing my body into their midst. As I take a seat with my new faction, my knees buckle under me. I hear sniggers break out around me as I struggle to take a seat next to the other transfer, Minho, formerly of Candor. He smirks at me.
But I hold my head high and watch the rest of the Ceremony. It's Jack's turn after mine, and I avoid his eye contact as the knife cuts through his left hand and his blood splatters over grey stones.
Abnegation.
I squeeze my hands together so hard that my knuckles turn white. I am a traitor; the only traitor. There has not been a single other transfer from Abnegation this Ceremony, and there's unlikely to be another for years. I push my eyes shut, then open them again, blinking.
I do not regret my decision.
The Choosing Ceremony progresses, with a couple of transfers into my new faction. Along with Minho, there's a couple more from Candor, a boy named Frypan, and a brother and sister pair - George and Brenda. Two from Erudite named Thomas and Teresa. That makes seven of us transfers.
The second to last person is called, and my eyes open in surprise when I see the Amity boy there. Newt. He limps towards the bowls, and does not wince as the knife cuts his flesh. He hovers his hand over the soil in the Amity bowl.
Surprisingly, his eyes flicker my way before darting back in front of him, so fast it must have been a trick of the light. His fingers curl over the blood on his palm before he moves his hand over a different bowl.
He opens his hand over the hot coals.
I jerk back in surprise, and my gasp of shock is muffled by the cheers of the Dauntless around me.
Newt's transferred too.
For a brief second, I wonder why it matters so much to me. I've never really had a proper conversation with him. I don't know anything about the boy. But for some inexplicable reason, I'm drawn to him.
The last sixteen year old is called - a boy named Nick - and a split second later, I turn to my family. My old family. Chuck's there, looking at me, and the corners of my mouth quirk up in a final smile. My father's behind him, his hand on Chuck's shoulder, but this time it's me who turns away.
Standing up, the rest of my faction talk loudly amongst themselves, yawning and clapping each other on the back. Beside me, the Candor boy Minho stretches his arms out, and the Erudite boy Thomas looks around curiously. Brenda and George mutter to each other in low voices, and I see her slap him multiple times. Teresa looks at Thomas, eyebrows furrowed, and Frypan and Newt are looking around, appearing slightly concerned.
Newt's eyes meet mine, and the Abnegation part of me forces myself to look down at my grey shoes.
For some reason, eight transfers doesn't feel like enough.
I'm interrupted from my thoughts as the rest of our faction begins to move. They jog out the door, shouting and laughing and cheering and grinning. Thomas and Minho are the first transfers to run after them, then Brenda and George follow with Teresa and Frypan. I take one look around at the Abnegation and join them. Newt follows after me, and soon enough, we catch up as they break into a full-on sprint, arms pumping and feet pounding against the pavement.
My chest begins to heave and burn as we continue out the door of the building, but I don't slow down. I peel my grey jacket off my shoulders, leaving me in the loose shirt underneath. Throwing the jacket to the floor, I look behind me. To my surprise, Newt lags behind, rubbing his right leg, wincing.
I pause in my run as he slows to a halt. He's sweating, but it doesn't seem to be the physical exhaustion on his body; it seems to have something to do with his leg.
The rest of the faction make their way around us, not bothering to stop. I glance around. Newt straightens his body, but he's still wincing. Shaking my head, I fall behind, to his side. He looks at me in surprise.
"Newt?" I ask, and bite my tongue.
"(y/n)?" he mutters, and a shiver runs down my spine. He remembers my name from the Aptitude Testing.
"We need to get going," I demand as the last member of the faction runs past us.
"It's my bloody leg," he groans, "it's givin' out."
"You need to keep going," I urge, "we'll fail initiation."
He groans, and a bead of sweat runs down his forehead. "Alright," he responds, and I pull him up, dragging him towards the faction. I can see them ahead of us, a mass of dark clothing. Urging him forward, we manage to catch up slowly as they run onto the street and to the other side of the road.
I flinch when I hear the sound of a train horn, and turn the corner to see a set of gleaming rails, and the light of the train flashing. The doors of the vehicle are thrust open, ready for the Dauntless to jump inside.
The first people to jump in are groups of older Dauntless, until it's just the transfers left. Minho leaps on first with Thomas on his heels. Soon, I jump on, followed by Teresa. I reach for Newt's hand and pull him up, blushing slightly, just before the train starts up again.
The boy releases my hand, and I feel a slight unease and disappointment as he does. The eight transfers lie, panting, on the floor of the train, and I sit up, taking a glance at Newt's ankle. Luckily, it doesn't seem too bad, just a little red and swollen. I'm sure he'll be able to get it fixed up when we get to the Dauntless compound. If we get to the Dauntless compound.
"Hey," I hear a voice behind me say, and I whirl around. The Erudite transfer Teresa stands there, a blue scarf wrapped around her neck, complimenting her eyes. She holds out her hand for me to shake. "Teresa."
I reach out for her hand awkwardly. The Abnegation don't greet each other this way. We bow our heads, instead of a display of physical contact. "(y/n)."
"Nice to meet you," she says, releasing my hand, and I nod back. Soon enough, the Candor girl Brenda walks over to us, also shaking our hands in turn.
"I'm (y/n)," I introduce, quietly, my voice almost lost to the wind whirling past the train. Brenda smirks.
"Are all Stiffs like you?" she asks, and I shrug. Stiff is an derogatory term for the Abnegation, used by the other factions.
"I'm not a Stiff anymore," I retort, surprising myself as I set my jaw.
"Guess not," she replies. "I was just joking with you, Stiff."
She punches me lightly on the arm, her brown hair swaying as the three of us sit down, the only female transfers to Dauntless. I look around to see Newt talking to Minho and Thomas. George and Frypan are engaged in their own conversation.
I look around the compartment at my new faction members, the people I'll spend the rest of my life with, and I think of the life I would have had, back in Abnegation, and something of a jolt runs through me.
Slowly, my head falls onto my chest, and I fall asleep.
•••
I wake up to two sets of hands shaking me awake, roughly.
"Stiff!" I hear a voice call, then another.
"(y/n), they're jumping off!" a girl's voice calls, urgently.
"(y/n)!" an accented, male voice shouts. "Bloody hell!"
My eyes open. First, the only thing I see is three sets of faces, then, behind them, the other Dauntless jumping off the slowing train onto a rooftop in front of us.
The black-clothed shapes are jumping off all around us, but all eight transfers remain on the train.
"We're gonna have to jump, shanks!" I hear from the corner of the room. I swivel around to see the black haired Candor standing there, muscular arms folded across his chest.
"Minho-" Frypan begins, but Minho interrupts him by leaping right off the train onto the roof, laughing the entire time.
"This is great!" he calls from the roof, grinning. I shake my head.
The prospect of leaping from a train to a roof is not the most appealing idea, but it's quite possibly the only option I have. The other transfers are lining up on the other side of the compartment, and soon, we're all going to be left behind if we don't jump.
I glance to the other side, and determination fills me. If Minho can do it, so can I. I position my feet at the ledge between the train and clear blue sky. The train's slowing down further - now's my chance.
I take a deep breath.
My feet push off the hard floor of the train. For a second that feels like hours, I'm at the mercy of the sky, before I come crashing down onto the roof. Pain shoots through my feet, and I realise that I'm the second transfer to jump.
Although I'm struggling to stand up, and small pieces of gravel are embedded into my knees, a sense of relief and pride rushes over me. I did it.
Looking up, I see that Newt's positioned himself at the edge of the train, his knees bent at an awkward angle. He's ready to jump, but he's not moving - he's going to miss his opportunity.
"Newt!" I call out. "Jump!"
He looks up at me, petrified, and I realise. He's scared of heights.
And just as I think he's not going to do it, his feet push off like mine did. For a terrifying, heart-stopping second, I think that he's fallen down, about to land on the pavement below.
But then he crashes onto the roof in front of me, breathing a sigh of relief, just like me.
"You okay?" I call over the wind.
"I'm fine," he says back, but he's visibly shaking.
"We did it, shanks!" Minho calls, and his response from the others is laughter. I laugh, too, and Newt lets out a half-smile. I grin over at him, and look back towards the train.
A terrible sight greets me.
Minho's spoken too soon. Just as Brenda jumps off, her brother George tries to follow. But his jump isn't far enough.
His legs are the first part of his body to hit the pavement under the roof. Then, I see his dark head slam onto the ground.
George has failed Dauntless Initiation.
He is factionless, if not dead.
I cover my mouth with my hand, and Newt does the same, his chocolate eyes sparkling with tears.
"GEORGE!" Brenda calls. "GEORGE!" Her hair flaps in the wind as she leans off the edge. Minho holds her back.
"Hey, calm down, shuc-" he starts.
"He's dead," Brenda whispers, turning to Minho, her face gaunt. Expressionless. "He's dead."
"Not necessarily," Minho says, turning to face her. "He could just be factionles-"
"He's dead. We just changed factions, and he's dead," Brenda continues, her voice empty. She turns away and wrenches herself from Minho's grasp. "Dead."
I feel tears form in my eyes, but I push them back as we're joined by the rest of the transfers. Of course, there are only seven of us now. The Dauntless-born initiates join us, too; there are more of them than there are of us. Another man joins us, too, but he's older, with long hair and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He must be a Dauntless leader.
"The name is Vince," he introduces himself from the other side of the roof. "I'm the leader of this faction. Your faction." Vince pauses for dramatic effect. "Welcome to Dauntless."