Transparent: A Divergent FanFiction (Book One) ©

Chapter 27

                The next morning, when I lumbered into the training room, wiping sleep from my eyes, a series of large target stands greeted me at one of the farthest ends of the room. Next them, there was a large table with knives strewn across it. Relief flooded through me; I’d woken up all achy and slightly bruised from the fall off the coaster. Target practice would be a nice change, no real pain involved, and would give me time to recuperate.

                Amar stood in the center of the room, his posture attentive and ready to go. When he saw that we’d all filed in, he addressed us in a sharp tone. “Tomorrow is the last day of stage one. You will continue fighting then. Today, however, you’ll all be learning how to aim. Now, everyone go and pick up three knives.”

                I didn’t have to be told twice; breaking into a light jog, I grabbed the daggers and then got back in line.

                “Pay close attention now, I’m going to demonstrate the correct technique for throwing them, and I expect you to pick up the skill quickly.”

                I watched Amar as his arm flicked and the dagger went flying, hitting the target each time. It seemed easy enough, all I needed to really practice was my stance. When he was done, he ordered us to practice.

                Attempting to mimic his moves, I practiced a few times, without ever actually letting go of the knife, and then when I felt confident, let it go. It spun, over and over, and in the end slammed into the board close to the bull’s-eye. Whether it was just luck, or good aim, I didn’t care. Using the confidence it’d given me to hit the target, I continued until I was hitting the mark each time.

                Surprisingly, I was happy to see that Grace was also hitting the center of her board each time. While her fighting had definitely improved with the after-hours training, she still had work to do if she wanted to raise her rank. It was nice to see that she was excelling at something naturally and without the need for tutoring.

                When I caught her eye, she grinned and we nodded in unison. Gathering our knives, we counted down and then flung our knives in quick succession. Though both of us had gotten each dagger to stick, it was Grace who had the better marksmanship.

                I laughed as she bounced on her feet, stopped, and then just grinned childishly.

                “Impressive,” I said as we walked to the board to retrieve our weapons.

                “Thanks,” she blushed. “I’m glad I’m good at something other than being a punching bag.”

                I analyzed her target; each knife tip clustered at the very center, and let out a low whistle. “Seriously, that’s amazing. I’m jealous actually.”

                She gave the tiniest squeal of joy, a habit that was slowly disappearing as the days passed, and bounced on her toes with excited energy. It was as we were turning to head back to our spot in line that something caught my eye.

                A tattoo, small and delicate, was adorning the underside of her right wrist. How had I not noticed it before?

                “When did you get that?” I asked, as I fiddled with my knives.

                She peeked down at her arm, showing me that the swirling lines were actually an abstract sort of flower. “This morning actually, I got up early and went by myself.”

                “Alone?” I asked, throwing a dagger when Amar passed by. “Why? I mean, you don’t have to have a babysitter or anything, but I could’ve gone with you if you’d wanted.”