Disclaimer : I don't own King Arthur or his knights! sniffle
He had felt this before.
He didn't feel pain when the sword struck him,
but an odd mixture of sadness and happiness.
Sadness because he would be taken from his beloved knights.
Sadness because he knew he would never see his homeland again.
Happiness because he would be free.
Free from this hell he called life.
Happiness because he would know he was finally safe.
Yet . . . he still felt something that he hadn't felt since that day the romans took him from his home.
It was fear.
He felt fear.
Fear that maybe his fight was worthless, fear that everything he had ever done meant nothing.
He had never known any other life than one of death and bloodshed.
What would happen to him?
Was he truly a pagan as many said he was?
Was he destined to an eternity of darkness?
Or would he be welcomed into paradise?
He knew he was going to die today.
As blood spewed from his mouth, his eyes turned skyward.
Above him circled his friend, his partner, the one who knew him best.
As his old friend screamed its goodbyes, he knew it was time.
He could finally let go, finally not have to worry.
As he looked out at the battlefield, he saw his knights, his brothers, fighting for a cause not their own.
A single tear slid down his face as he remembered all they had been through together.
As the blade struck his chest and stomach, he knew, it was time to be free, time to be at peace.
Farewell my brothers, be free.