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It was a cold and gloomy morning as Lancelot stood outside the main wall. Anxious and alert, he waited, not sure of what to expect. Life had taken an unusual turn.
Through the mist of the fresh morning he could see the forest in the distance. Dark shadows loomed through the trees. They were ghostly apparitions, blue demons in purgatory. She was one of them. The woman they had sprung from the cell of Marius' estate, who asked about his homeland, and whom he watched in the dark------Guinevere.
Thoughts of the day before passed through Lancelot's mind. He was not sure of what to think about the previous day's events. It had all come too fast, rush all at once and the vision was somewhat blurred in his mind.
He raised a hand to run through his curls and exhaled. There was an ache present in his lungs and he winced slightly. It wasn't supposed to be like this…
He sighed leaning his head against the wall and looked up at the sky. Dagonet, my dear friend…He thought. Yeah were taken too fast… They had clamed victory yesterday, if victory was the right way to put it. They had, after all, lost one of their knights. He should have been content, been happy that he survived, but he wasn't and he knew, neither were the other knights.
Lancelot's left hand grasped the small scroll, his freedom. Freedom…He laughed to himself breathlessly. Yes, his freedom was brought down to this, a tiny scroll of parchment. It was thin and easily torn. This is my freedom, he thought sarcastically. Freedom, he knew wasn't this fragile, but he know, neither was it tangible. Over the years Lancelot had come to realize that one was free from their first breath and so, thus, an individual could not just be "granted" with it. It was Arthur who had taught the knights this. But of course, Arthur was also a Christian, brought down to his knees by a god whom he claims has given him strength. The knights were pagans, and so, it made sense their realization of Christian words took fifteen years to settle in and take root in their minds.
Lancelot was caught in a state of incoherent thought until the snap of a twig underneath his foot brought him back into reality. He straightened in his leaned posture and took one last glance at the forest before taking his leave back to the fortress. They would be wondering where he was if he was gone for too long.
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