23 years old, one of the younger knights still alive, and already I feel decades older. Most of us do, I guess. Most of us - the ones that are still alive. The years of war and bloodshed, death and lost take their toll, no matter our ages.
Nothing makes these years go quicker. No matter how much Arthur broods and prayers, the remaining years crawl past in fog and rain and snow. And still, Arthur broods. And he talks to his God.
When I die, will he ask his God to take my spirit too? Or will he let me stay by his side, in his heart? But then again, he hasn't let me into his heart - not the way I want to be.