Summary and notes: I started to write it for the beginning for other story, but it turned up as the story itself. So, here it is... Story about one knight...
Go figure out about which one

Disclamier: I don't owe any of knights or characters in the movie.

Feedbacks: Of course! Please let me know how you feel about it

Sarmiatia... Home of us all. I should remember it, but I don't. I had left it 15 years ago. I was merely a boy, a child back then. Innocent, happy with my family. Ah! Family! I don't remember them either. I had a sister - younger, couple of brothers. Gods! I even don't remember their names! Sarmatia was cold. Even summers seemed to be the last breaths of winter which came back fast. We have slept together in ours small huts., warming ourselfs during the nights. I remember fire that burned inside our homes. It was much warmer then the fire here. Or at least I appreciated it much more then.
I was a boy, and didn't think about the future much. Many times my father tried to teach me fight but i refused him. I was only a child. Stupid child. But then again how many children are wise in their happy moments? If I had knew what fate awaits me I would learn more, or at least remember more of home.

Now I am a grown up man. A warrior. A knight in service of Rome. Feared by the enemies and loved by friends. The one which children look up to in their happy moments. I remember battles now. My body is full of scars filled with pain of the past wounds. I laugh at them with other knights, but I mourn them and the day when I was taken from home. As my brothers at arms and we all know that, but still nobodys speak of it. It is better to remain silent. Silence are our redemption as our failure. Yes, we talk, but it is just a talk, and silence about things that really matters.

Now I am not innocent. I've killed many sons, that is why I don't want any... but I have them. Maybe from love or just from lust, but I have them. They don't know who is their father. It is better that way.

I am a warrior far away from his country, family... far away from himself. What kind of man would I be if I stayed home? If I had ran from duty?

Now I am a man that don't remember his home and family. And I wait... Wait for rain that will wash away the blood that I had spilt. Waiting for my weapon to be no use for Romans and I can simply leave this place. Leave... But not my brothers. I am waiting also for them to put away theirs weapons and come with me. Instead I keep on watchin them fall into the graves out intio our sad little cemetery. I keep seeing them buried where memory doesn't reach. Only I and my brothers remember them. If we fall nobody will...

I am wiser then in the past. I try to remember everything. Their faces, words, voices... names. I kill people, that is my duty but they are also sons and brothers to somebody. I don't remember their faces, because there is too many of them. Too many killed by my weapons. Too many killed because of sins of my forefathers. Sins of staying alive. I hate them for that.

I am a grown up man now... waiting for world to fall.

I have come a long way to this point. The point of waiting, of lingering in one place. The road up ahead is closed because I know I will die in battle. My road is closed. I am just waiting at it's end.

There is one thing I remember of home. The sky bigger than you can imagine. Oceans of grass from horizon to horizon, further than you can ride.
Yes... there is one thing which I remember about home... Freedom