He has accepted what this new life has to offer him, though it brings him foreign duties than his former life as a landlord's sole son did. There, his diurnal consisted of forced churchly studies that he had no innerly wishes of fulfilling, and that was it. He woke up, went to his studies, and left for bed after dinner. On Sundays, he was coerced to the weekly sermon in church and the rest of those days were spent sneaking out to see Wooyoung - the only bright thing in that life.

Yeosang has been thinking a lot after going to bed this week, and a lot of this thinking has been thoughts of Wooyoung. His heart has been bleeding in wrenching tears that have strangled him from letting any sounds escape him, for now, he is supposed to be a man, and nothing else. But those lingering memories of the boy, who he never once will put a label to, are clenching harmfully around his feeble heart and when he tries to ignore the feeling, it only aches even more.

But now he has come to the closure, that accepting the pain may be better than battling mindly against it.

He stands from the warm bed and lets his bare feet touch the rough stone floor. The heavy cross thumps against his chest but he withstands the pain of the impact that digs through the thin piece of cloth and into his skin. His physique feels sore from the coerced daily duelling with Seonghwa in the ring, and he thinks he has gotten nowhere with his capacity in sword fights. He will be dead within the first five seconds in a battle for his life or death.

Yeosang sighs when he attempts to forget his aching body and instead pulls his cool attires on, piece after piece from its stack it lays in the small cabinet against the wall. After he has strapped the thread of his wine red shirt, he stuffs his feet into his leather boots, which are covered in dust and dirt from the days of training. His fingers are already instinctively searching for the belt that sits fairly at the table beside the bed and Yeosang tightens it around his waist, letting its weight heave his form further down than the symbol around his neck does.

The corridors are filled today with various knights when Yeosang steps out from his chamber but no one, in particular, seems to be aware of his presence. So, he follows the chattering men to the feast hall, while he tries to keep his head from wandering too many unwanted places. Steps echo against the walls and Yeosang feels a pull in his stomach when he suddenly cannot stop feeling so out of place while he walks among the flock even with his own sword that resonates clinking sounds by his side. When his seeking eyes then catch the sight of the blonde halo of hair, he pushes through the mass of knights until he reaches San, who first notices him when he calls his name.

"Oh, good morrow Yeosang," the man says with a kind smile that always has Yeosang feeling giddy beneath his hide.

They are now stepping into the feast hall, and the boy follows San to the table they usually sit by, "Morrow," Yeosang mumbles.

Yeosang sees how San looks around the hall as his fingers nervously tap the wooden table's surface and the signal makes him frowning in a questionable manner of what is happening. The chattering among the men is loud in between the clutter and jingles of the morning feast and he sees them all sitting just as tense as San. He wishes to catch the eyes of the man in front of him to ask him what is going on, but his query is answered when he notices the five men sitting by the heightened floor-ground at the end of the feast hall. One of the men is hitting his glass, which silences the knights immediately and Yeosang stares impressed.

"My honored brotherhood, I am sure that words have already spread, and I shall now those utters answer!"

A broad man with a wide intense stare is standing up behind the table at the end of the feast hall as he directs his being to the men sitting by the long furnitures. His voice is stern and unsmiling and his facial expressions are stiff even from the distance Yeosang sits. His words' dominance cast looming shadows through the hall and the boy feels his insides churn.

The man gestures his hands in a darting move to the men sitting on both his sides.

"It is, that our southern brothers have been deprived of their force from their genuine rightful protecting in the name of God. Conflicts with the heathens have strengthened, and we oblige ourselves to aid their need. Therefore will we take part in this dispute with a battle to prevent those sinners from spreading."

Sinners.

Yeosang passes his eyes away from the priming man onto San opposite his seat as his mind spins with utter confusion. To his dismay is the knight not gifting his attention to Yeosang but at the five men.

In the midst of his desperation to know, the boy outs his question in a hushed tone across the table.

"San, who is he?"

He startles when the blonde knight twirls his glaring sight at him while he shushes him to be quiet. San's blue orbs linger at him for a second and Yeosang can feel how the knight regrets his sudden umbrage when he detects the slight regret painting Yeosang's appearance and he leans forward instead.

"The man speaking is Lord Aitòre, our order's head, and ruler," San briskly whispers, "I will explain the concerning issue for you later. It is difficult to do shortly."

The blonde knight leans back as he faces the five men yet again, and the last remark has Yeosang realizing how ignorant he actually is in this new world. A very known voice suddenly echoes through the entire feast hall, and Yeosang turns his attention to the prideful, eloquent man that has every man silent.

Park Seonghwa's facade is nothing to overlook while he sits as one of the most important men among this order, as the right hand of the Lord himself, "Following discussions, it has been decided that three troops will be outsend in battle. Men have been chosen sapienter and my ward will take part altogether selected ones. Parochus Doyun will provide you with blessings before the trip, it will be needed. May God be with us all."

Yeosang takes in the different clothes the Commander wears; a deep blue trench embroidered with silver ornaments, but those outer robes are nothing to be fooled of, as the boy knows of the Knight Templar's attire hidden underneath. Of the sword staying by his side. He swallows and takes his eyes off Seonghwa again when the man has found his own stare down to Yeosang.

The speeches are brought through, and chatters among the morning tables arise yet again. Another time Yeosang turns his head to the prime table, the black-haired knight's seat is empty and the sight has Yeosang wondering where to he went. A second pair of eyes meet him and the boy suddenly frightens back when he perceives who is looking at him with a hawk's stare. He is not hungry anymore.

Yeosang's heart races at the moment his attention is turned at San who gets up from the bench. The knight's blue eyes look at him while he smiles forgivingly, "Excuse me, I have to meet with someone now. Meet me by the Maple tree when you have finished your food."

Words cling to Yeosang's throat when he turns his whole body at San who darts away from the table. His blonde halo of hair has soon disappeared in the numbers of dark-haired and left are the unspoken words that have the boy clench his hands around the edge of the table. He is full of things that he never gets to say.

Soon, Yeosang decides to leave the feast hall with an odd feeling sitting in his chest. He pushes the black strains of hair out of his eyes before he opens the wooden door while he still can feel eyes digging uncomfortably into his back. With quick steps, Yeosang ushers himself through the opening without letting his eyes fall back to the man that stares at him. Everything before those unsaid things fire free.

Heavily, the boy falls nigh the handle and lets go of the breath he did not know he was holding back. The soft air escapes his lips and swirls against the wooden surface as long as he does not move away from the mechanism. The pressure from deducing eyes has him filled with dread and Yeosang starts to see things from his past that he thought had left his mind long ago. The eyes that dig into his soul pull at his fragility and have him stumble back until he is caught by a corner. His hands there seek for a flight with the meekness from the burly stare has the young boy trembling. Footsteps come closer and a man there roughly grasps his small body.

Yeosang turns around on his feet with a gasp clutching his throat while he looks around the corridor in fear. The sound of flickering flames from the torches fills his ear with an eeriness though the sound is so familiar to him. The boy swallows as his eyes wander to every shadow cast down the stone floor, feeling restless even though his legs are stiffened. Unconsciously his fingers amble to the sword hanging by his side the time he observes his surroundings. But the boy is alone.

_____

After spending a short time in his chamber, mostly to ease his raging nerves, Yeosang continues through the building to the place where San has told him to meet. The flat stones collide with his leather boots when he steps up the stairs and walks through a shorter alternative route San has shown him before. The second flooring's corridor is broader than the one below, and the blonde knight has told Yeosang that most chambers are situated here. Soft forenoon light penetrates through the windows on his right side, but he easily notices the weighty clouds lancing in across the sky.

While his attention is drawn at the weather outside his eyes fall down upon the group of knights who are gathered in the middle of the courtyard, and Yeosang does not see the man whom he comes closer to. First, when he finally turns his curious eyes to the corridor yet again, he is met with a ravishing sight that makes him pause.

His eyes travel across the Knights Templars' bulky body in a way of fascination before he suddenly sees the reserved facial expression of this man. Now looking him into his one blue and one brown eye. Yeosang considers him heart-thumpingly handsome.

He takes a moment to comprehend who is standing in front of him, and his feet sink a few inches into the floor when he understands. Choi Jongho is standing right in front of the boy, his expression seemingly just studying the smaller boy's distressed appearance without showing any emotion himself. Yeosang pinches his arm behind his back while his awestruck mind cannot pursue what he has wanted to do since their second encounter, and the words spit out from his mouth in a hurry.

"May I thank you, sir!" Yeosang blurts right before he sees how the knight has his eyes on him, and a reddening grows on the boy's cheeks while he has to fight against his shyness to have his eyes stay directed at the man.

The knight knits his brows thoughtfully as he watches Yeosang in front of him tense under his watch. He is benumbed when a sleek velvety voice twirls with the tension resting inside those thick walls.

"What for, novice?"

It is as if his words never come across Yeosang, and instead, he stares open-mouthed into the knight's deep gaze. They are calm, blue and brown, sea and sky, the roots of a mountain and a whisper in the wind. They have stars twinkling and a fire burning with an intense passion that pulls at Yeosang's heart in a way he never has felt before.

Yeosang cannot look away, but his fingers that have found each other fumble aggressively with his wine-red shirt and it has the knight's eyes drift down for a moment. His mouth articulates on its own as wordings flow. "For your bravery, sir! The other day, I am flattered if you may still remember me, though. I-I cannot thank you enough for what you saved me from, I may have been no longer alive if it was not for you, sir."

The knight seems to fully understand as his expression falters, "What does your name be?"

He pauses his hands before they fall from their grasp around his shirt and he widens his brown eyes surprised.

"I recall you as the boy who plucked that apple for my horse, am I not correct?" the knight continues as his voice loosens furthermore and falls into a soothing pitch that makes Yeosang slip dreamingly. He forgets everything about the question when chills pinch his bones and he is nowhere near thinking.

What transpires is a lie playing the threads of imagination in his mind when Yeosang finds himself caught by the strong arms of the bulky knight. His body tingles with warmth and Yeosang does not know if it comes from the touch of the other man's hands or the embarrassment rushing like a pooling heat, while he finds himself in the midst of lacking sanity.

He must have been falling, for now, he falls harder against a wooden door when stumbling away with heartbeats and a light head. Hastily as his shoulder hits the door, Yeosang turns his neck around to seek the ravishing knight, but he is nowhere to see and therefore he concludes that this must be an illusion. Yeosang lands his forehead at the wood and sighs shakily in the silence. His hands are still shaking when he forces them up and opens the door and feels a wind rustling through his dark hair. His eyes find the red colors easily, and by the huge trunk of the maple tree, he marks the head of the blonde knight.

After taking a moment to breathe the free air, the boy finally steps down the stone stairs from the second flooring and now walks into the smaller courtyard where the old maple tree is planted. Quickly, Yeosang notices that San is not alone.

"Yeosang, over here!"

If it was not for San's beaming smile, the boy would have hesitated whether he should approach the numerous group of tense knights or not. Yeosang forces his leg to move himself closer and San grips his arm when he finally is close enough. He eyes the men warily until he suddenly locks gazes with Seonghwa.

"I have something sonticus to tell you," the man presses, and the tint to his usually soothing voice has Yeosang swallowing his spit.

The Commander steps forward and lays his hand on the boy's left shoulder. He can feel that San lets go of his arm.

"Listen, Peccator, those imminent weeks starting from tomorrow will be different. We are trained to do this, you shall not worry as this is part of our lives. We have done this plenty of times," Seonghwa says as his eyes dig into the ones of Yeosang. His hand then squeezes the boy's shoulder, "But I must remind you that we are men, fearless, and fighting in the name of God, and as the Knight Templars first Commander will I pay my deed in war. Therefore, as your guidance counselor, will I let archer Choi San take over that position until I come back to my respected home again. Some day, you will also take part in battles."

Yeosang can only stare at the man, befuddled but following. Before he nods at the information, his eyes wander above the chivalrous man's shoulder and to the five knights who observe intensely as their Commander speaks to him. One of them has a scarred face as his eyes drip darkly down upon Yeosang. Another one spits on the ground. San steps up beside Yeosang with a grin when Seonghwa is sure that Yeosang has understood.

"I will do my best not to upset you, Seonghwa," the boy utters while his eyes still have not left the daunting flock of knights, and he cannot stop thinking of how it is even possible for San to have the same status as any of those harsh men standing in the back.

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