Chapter 46

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                “Transfers, we’re going to be doing something different today,” Amar announced in a clear voice. All conversation in the lunchroom ceased, and we all turned to watch him. “Get up, and follow me.”

                I stood and walked behind Amar as he led us out of the dining hall and along the paths that surrounded The Pit. Dan was still munching on the remains of the muffin he’d stuffed in his face, and I could hear Grace walking along behind me.

                We climbed up the stairs, past various stores, and then even higher than we’d ever gone before. Luckily, I’d never been scared of heights, and so I followed without any hesitation. Grace, however, didn’t seem to have the same sentiment; her face seemed drained of blood as we continued to climb, and on more than one occasion I heard her suck in a sharp breath.

                She must’ve almost lost her balance at one point, because the next thing I knew, I felt her hands fly out and bump into my back. I winced, my skin tender from the tattoo I’d just finished getting that morning, but didn’t say anything. Other than Dan and Tori, the artist I’d met during my first days in dauntless, no one else knew about my tattoo.

                After I’d arrived at the tattoo shop, I’d asked Tori for a piece of paper and a pencil, and then described to Dan just what it was that I wanted. He’d agreed immediately, and happily set to work. Once he was done, I’d handed the sheet of paper to Tori and asked her to replicate it onto my skin. It had been a long and uncomfortable process, but in the end it had certainly been worth it.

               The large back-piece was a true work of art. I’d described what I wanted in simple terms, but with Dan’s incredibly gifted hand, he’d transformed the idea and brought it to life. Ultimately, my tattoo had been inspired by my father’s philosophies, which in turn were exactly the same as my own. I believed in what he’d thought; that none of us should have to be limited to one faction alone. It was already wired into me to be honest, brave, and selfless, but did that necessarily mean I couldn’t also be smart and kind?

               On my back, there was now a more ink-to-skin ratio. To anyone, it would seem that my tattoo was no more than a piece of abstract art, while in reality there was a secret hidden behind its intricate lines and shadows. I figured getting the emblems of each faction tattooed on my skin would be too obvious; so I’d decided to combine them into a single subject, where they could still be represented without putting my life directly at risk.

               To symbolize amity, I’d gone with a large old oak that was centered at my spine. Tori had shaded it perfectly, catching the fine details and curling peels on the tree’s bark. I wanted to be kind and serene, even if it wasn’t something I was normally inclined to do. I also liked the idea that with the tree, I was sort of paying an homage to my mother’s old faction.

               Near the top, the tree forked into two opposing sections; a sign that hinted to the candor scales. The branches rose on either side of me, curling up like fingers around the tops of my shoulders and around my biceps. If you looked closely you could just make out that the tips of the branches transformed so that they were actually a slender lick of flames; a nod towards the dauntless side of me. Deceptively hidden amongst the whirling lines of the tree’s bark, was the erudite eye, and as the base of the tree flared out into a mass of roots, the texture changed so it resembled that of the abnegation stones.

               All in all, it was exquisitely drawn and a real masterpiece, but that wasn’t the only reason I loved it. My tree, it was a sign of life, growing from what seemed like impossible circumstances; it was symbolism at its best. I wanted to be just that; not only a survivor, but someone who could flourish even in the harshest of environments.

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