There is a rose petal in Josef's pocket. If he doesn't think about it, he can pretend that he forgot it was there.
There is a tattoo on the inside of Josef's left arm, just below his armpit. In runes, he painstakingly placed the phrase "nerves of steel", doing the best with his non-dominant hand to get the tricky characters correct. It's still uncomfortable, but he can ignore it too. Until the Pool.
Josef's father had brought the young recruit his "graduation presents" himself, dropping by Lomorre on the last leg of a business trip before returning to Greenbrook--trust Dimitri to make a profit out of everything, even seeing his son. Proudly, he had given his son three gifts: first, a respectably-large red gemstone, shot through with bits of orange "like leaping flames". Second, a specially-made lens for his new dragonsteel club, which sat uncomfortably on Josef's hip even now. The lens was designed to make his club look like his third gift: a rosewood chair leg, slightly curved, one end blackened from a fourteen-year-old fire.
It was the stick that did it. Josef hadn't been able to stand listening to another account of his infant courage, and so he had claimed to be overwhelmed; the moment was finally here, he said, and he needed to process it all. His father had a buyer nearby, and had drilled punctuality into his son, and so he let his son go with good grace, clapping his son into a tight hug and telling him again how proud he was that Josef was finally meeting his destiny.
Josef had gone immediately to the nearby gardens, a place he had gone often to "study" during his time at Fort Naoth. The gardeners knew him by sight, if not name; a short, solidly-built young man with unruly red hair and brown eyes darkened by the teenage emotional storms, who walked alone in the gardens, sometimes stopping before a flower or shrub and examining it closely. The night before the VTOL arrived, Josef had stopped several times, trying to shove aside what was coming tomorrow, to lose himself in his love of growing things. He leaned in to smell a newly-opened rose, its petals a blend of yellow, orange, and red... and a petal came loose from the flower and drifted down to his hand. Josef didn't let himself consider it; he placed the petal in his pocket and left. Now, it was still there. But he can pretend like he didn't know.
The tattoo on the inside of his left upper arm burned, still healing. His father hadn't noticed, hadn't asked. He could pretend like that wasn't there either; until after the Pool, when none of this would matter anymore.
Josef was early to the VTOL; a true Knight is punctual, and the role was now his for a lifetime. He responds to Lily's wave with a curt nod before snapping back to Levont's words, trying to ignore the itch on his left upper arm, the non-weight of the petal in his pocket. "Recruit Josef Rossi," he responds immediately to the prompt. A true Knight is a clear and powerful speaker, and so his voice is measured and strong. He turns to the small chest and opens it, already knowing what he'd see. "My Tithe is empty; I'm bringing... gifts, to the Pool."
In his hand, the stick gleamed in the light, lovingly polished by his father even after all these years; all except one end, which his father had regularly blackened with soot to enhance the mystique of the item. Dimitri thought his son didn't know that, but he knew. He'd known that his father cared more about the story than the truth.
Josef realizes that he's been staring at the empty box for a little bit too long. He closes the ceremonial chest with a bit more force than necessary and puts it back in its place, stepping out of the VTOL. He waits at command rest, his red hair bursting in all directions the only part of him that is moving. Looking over at the rest of the recruits, Josef can't stop his eyes from narrowing slightly as he sees Heather there, talking to the other recruit (of course). He looks away quickly--if she sees him seeing her, she might talk to him, and that would be its own mess.
There is still a rose petal in Josef's pocket. His left upper arm still itches and burns. These are the only two things of himself he's taking into the Pool; after the Pool, he knows his fate will be sealed.