Tine arrived back in enough time before the evening meal to wash and change into a clean tunic.  As he sat in the tub, Leal entered the bathing room.  Leal looked Tine over, noticed the twin pricks on his neck, and the blue gem laying on the stool next to the tub, “How many times have you been with him now?  Twice? Thrice? More?”

“At least,” Tine answered as he poured water from a jug over his head.

“And he… bled you each time?”

Tine nodded.

“Did anything else happen?”

Tine nodded.

“You are a year-eight, Tine, do you even know what it means when a boy like Bra-Neche…?”

“Boy like Bra-Neche?” Tine cut him off.  “I know he likes me.  I know I like him.  The rest is unimportant.”

“Do you hate the Templars that much?”

“No, I like Bra-Neche that much.”

“Did he tell you he was leaving tomorrow?”

Tine shrugged, but Leal could see by the look on his face that Tine thought to go with him.

“Finish washing, dry off, and come to my office.  I will have appropriate clothing for you,” Leal told him then took Tine’s clothing as he headed for the door.

“Are you kicking me out?” Tine asked hopefully.

“No, Tine, this is way beyond kicking you out.” Leal shut the door behind him.

Tine wept into the water as he finished his bath, wondering what would become of him if he were not making him leave.  Finally, he combed his hair and put the bead back in like Bra-Neche had showed him. Then wrapped in a drying cloth, he headed to Leal’s office.  Draped on the back of a chair were a pair of white leggings and a blue tunic.  Tine felt the material and found it different from the material his browns had been made from.   Once dressed, he stepped out in the hall where Leal met him outside the door. 

“The color is good on you,” Leal said gently, “Tonight you will dine next to your lover.”

“Does everyone know?” Tine whispered as he looked across the room.

“Only those who need to know.”

Tine nodded and entered the hall.  Conversation did not exactly stop, but there was a difference as he walked from the back of the room to the front, alone, in strange clothing.  Bra-Neche saw him and smiled.  Tine smiled back and closed the distance to his lover’s side.

The eldest boy at the table indicated the lone empty chair, and Tine sat.  The food was passed around, and Tine was relieved to see there were no meat dishes. 

“We were told another would be joining us this evening, but we don’t know who you are.  I am Esban,” the eldest spoke to Tine.

“Tine, year-eight.”

Some of the other boys choked on their food, one sputtered, “Year-eight?”

Tine nodded. 

“At this table, we have no years, Tine.  Here you are simply Tine, Chosen.”

“Chosen?” Tine looked around the table and each boy nodded.  “Who are you chosen by?”

“That is not an easy question to answer, Tine,” Esban started.  “You see, those who are at this table who are not already Imperials Guards were chosen to serve by Imperial Guards.  We will all serve, just in different capacities.”

Tine looked around the table and suddenly it made much more sense.  The boys in red-tunics alternated between those not.  He sat between Esban and Bra-Neche.  Bra-Neche smiled, picked up a slice of fruit and popped it in Tine’s mouth as he opened it to ask another question.  “Shhhh, you talk too much.”

Tine felt the heat rise on his face as he chewed.

One of the boys near the end make a rude comment about letting children at their table, which caused Tine to flush as crimson as the tunic of the boy who spoke.  The boy on the other side of Esban took a sip of his tea then sat down his cup, saying, ” I think that Tine is no longer a ‘child’, are you Tine?”

Tine looked up wide-eyed and shook his head. 

“So, is that what the blue tunic means?”

Tine looked around, “I don’t know.  Leal told me to wear it for tonight.”

“The blue tunic means that your life will be different now, Tine.  Your training will… intensify.  You will have less free time and more studies.  You have so much to learn and a very short time to learn it,” Esban told him gently.  “But one of the nice things is that you will have your own room.”

“I’m not a year-ten,” Tine protested.

“No, you are not, you are Chosen. There is no shame in being a son of Suril.”

The other non-red wearing boys nodded their heads as Esban spoke.  But Tine drew back from them as he could read hunger in their eyes.  Bra-Neche leaned forward and Tine would have sworn he heard his lover growl.  The others backed down, their eyes returning to normal as they picked up food or drink, ignoring him.

Tine was very glad when the meal was over.