You were a male knight. You'd worked as a knight for years, fighting in wars and battles. You never really had any friends because you were focused on your job of guarding the castle.

Then, other knights tried to befriend you, little by little, and it worked. You were their friend; you finally had friends. A few days ago, you even learned that you were a recruit.

A man who wanted to be a knight like you and a few others. His name was James Phelps. Today, you taught him how to wield a sword perfectly. You fought a little, blocking his attacks. When it was over, you shook your head behind your helmet which you almost never take off.

"You're too honest in your movements."

You commented, gesturing to his sword in his hands, and James was confused as to what that meant.

"Honest?"

James asked, and you sighed a little. It's a little difficult to explain when you've never had to explain what you're doing or how to handle something.

"Yeah, your body tells me everything. In real combat, that gets you killed instantly."

You tried to explain a little better and approached him, your armor making metal noises as you walked. Once you were in front of James, you put a hand on his neck, making James freeze and look at you with wide eues.

"Remember that anyone can pounce on you at any time. You shouldn't trust anyone."

You said it as a life lesson because it could really change everything. He needed to know that for a real fight, know everything.

"Including you?"

James asked. He was a little scared of your hand on his neck, but he knew you were never going to try to hurt him; you were just training him, and he was grateful for that.