Okay, so this is a story that kind of popped into my mind. I feel bad for all those knights always being killed off. Im not sure what possessed me to write this, but I did. Im not really a writer, and I know it's not the best, but oh well. Also, im new to this site and not totally sure how it works. So if anyone actually bothered to read this, I hope you enjoy my story :)

Buildings collapsed and people screamed in terror, as another magical beast rampaged through Camelot. Nameless knights were dying left and right, and a certain warlock was trying to put a stop to this mayhem. Nothing out of the ordinary there. If someone took the time to stop panicking though, they might have noticed a knight just standing in the middle of the square, staring at the destruction and chaos around him. He should have been fighting, or at least making an attempt to do so. Instead, he was just standing there, acting all terrified and statue-like.

You really couldn't blame him though. He was only human after all. He had seen what happened to the other, not as smart knights who rushed blindly into battle. They all died, and no one gave them a second thought. No one remembered their names, or mourned for them. Some of them didn't even have names! Like him, many knights were raised to be fodder anyway, so they weren't given names, and they were discouraged from having feelings and personalities. If someone asked him for his name, he would have replied with something along the lines of "Knight number 37." They were given a number, so his superior could keep track of him and the other knights.

How he longed to have a name, to have some way for people to remember him by. After his death, there would be another knight number 37. And another, and another, and another.

Knight 37 continued standing there, unnoticed and ignored, by everyone. Suddenly, the magical beast turned and spotted him. Knight 37 suddenly needed a new pair of trousers. The beast began to run towards him, and opened it's jaws.

Knight 37's dull, pointless life suddenly flashed before his eyes. He suddenly realized, he wasn't satisfied with that sort of life. Summoning some kind of bravery that one can only have in their last moments, he drew his sword.

"FOR CAMELOT!" He yelled at the beast at the top of his lungs. With strength he didn't know he had, he threw the sword into the beast's mouth, intending for it to pierce the inside of the beast or something. Sadly, the beast snapped the sword like a toothpick between his teeth. Knight 37 and the beast both felt the awkwardness in the air, as they stared at each other.

Then, coming to his senses, Knight 37 ran for his life. He ran like there was no tomorrow. It wasn't a very knightly thing to do, but to hell with that, he wanted to live. Screaming like a little girl, he ran and ran, until he was a safe distance from the beast.

Catching his breath, he looked up and saw the Prince's scrawny servant. Marvin was his name, wasn't it? Marvin seemed to be chanting something in an ancient language. It sounded like gibberish to Knight 37. Suddenly, Marvin's eyes flashed gold, and the beast exploded. Instead of the guts and gore Knight 37 was expecting, all that was left of the beast was this glimmering, golden powder. It reminded Knight 37 of some kind of fairy or pixie dust.

Marvin smiled, satisfied in vanquishing the beast. He was almost as oblivious as the prince, since he never noticed Knight 37. Marvin began making his way back to the palace, as Knight 37 sat there in shock. Should he just pretend he never saw that? Yes, that would probably keep him alive longer. He knew he didn't want the warlock/fairy knowing that he knew the secret that he didn't think anyone knew.

So Knight 37 proceeded to make his way back to the palace, pretending he never saw anything, and remembering he needed a new pair of trousers.

I hoped you enjoyed my pitiful attempt at writing :D I may or may not continue this story. So, should I continue it?