“The Correct Choice”
12/29/1999

The tepid mild July winds were blowing softly, disturbing Lord Geoffrey’s midsummer curtains. All was calm in the obscure stronghold. Outside on the battlements, the midnight guards were patrolling the perimeter of the walls. Lord Geoffrey, aroused by a racket below, stumbles toward the window. Beneath him, the portcullis was being raised to allow entry to a rider on horseback. The midnight rider falls from his saddle, clutching onto his right flank. Quickly the portcullis was being lowered back into position as a group of soldiers were gathering around. The massive doors, allowing one to enter into the keep, swing open on aged hinges. Healers from inside, emerge from the open passageway. The wounded rider is carried into the unlit doorway, and the doors close behind. The guards, curious about the courier, return to their standings.

More interested in the messenger than his footmen, Lord Geoffrey rushes to his wardrobe. Flinging apart the doors, and selecting a maroon robe to don, he dashes out into the hallway. He moves quickly over the cold stone floor, his bare feet padding softly. At the bottom of the spiral stairwell, Lord Geoffrey finds himself staring into the obscurity of the Great Hall. During the daylight hours, the Hall is filled with voices, music, and people. Now it stands vacant, the only sounds to be heard are the soothing voices of the healers and the crackling of a small fire in a fireplace that seems to big for the tiny flame. The wounded rider, covered in crimson blood, makes small noises when touched with the healing cloths. Another figure, clad in robes as red as the riders blood, is trying to make something of a blood ridden piece of parchment. Looking up from his task, he speaks: “Your eminence, What are you doing up this late?” “Arengar, I came to investigate what happened,” He said softly, “Who is the messenger?” In reply, Arengar said, “We believe him to be a messenger from the Infernal Dreams messenger guild.” “All right, then send a message to the guild telling them about the situation,” Said Geoffrey, “Also tell them that we will treat him until he heals, then we will send him back.” “As you wish lord. Now you should return to bed, and I shall return to deciphering this message” 

Yawning in reply Lord Geoffrey returns to his chamber, leaving the healers, emissary, and the robed counselor behind. With only a few thoughts about the contents of the message, he falls into a dreamless sleep. The warm radiance of the morning sun was all that was necessary to wake up the sleeping lord. Rising from his bed, Geoffrey dresses in his morning clothes and makes his way out into the central courtyard where Arengar sat at a stone table. Eager to see what Arengar made of the message, Geoffrey steps up to the table. “Good morning lord. Last night I found out what the message contained.” Arengar said, with a proud smile “Really, What does it say?” “It is in a crude form of common, making it hard to read, but I’ll read it to you anyway. ‘Geoffrey, We haven’t had a chance to become friends. I want to talk with you about why. Come to my tower on the twenty-ninth to talk. Sincerely, ‘F’” “The twenty-ninth? Why, that’s today. But who is the one called ‘F’, and where is this tower he speaks of?” “I know not who it is, but there is a most uninviting tower to the north. Perhaps that is it.” “It just might be. I’ll go to see this tower now” “Not by yourself. I took the liberty of arranging for someone to accompany you.” Said Arengar, rising to his feet and making a swift motion to the shadows. From the shadows behind a pillar stepped a man of average height, dressed in different shades of green and blue. A cloak as green as the forest flowed around him as he walked toward Geoffrey. “You may remember him from your experiences as a youth. He is a Troubadour, and he goes by the name of Rune.” A quick memory flashes in Geoffrey’s mind. A memory of his best friend and himself, in this particular memory they were in a tavern. Geoffrey was playing his favorite instrument, the harpsichord, and his friend was playing his favorite, the reed flute. While the two were playing, Geoffrey’s friend was moving about the stage. During this act, Geoffrey’s friends’ favorite barmaid kept saying, ‘Get off the stage Rune! You jester!’. Returning to reality, Geoffrey looks up to see Runes’ smiling face. “Rune!” Geoffrey exclaimed, embracing him in a friendly grasp “It has been a long time.” “So it has Geoff, so it has.” He replied, warmly returning Geoffrey’s hold. “You will be coming with me to meet the one called ‘F’?” asked the overjoyed lord “I will, and I am glad to return to travel by your side.” Was his reply. “Shall we leave now?” inquired Geoffrey “Not yet lord,” said Arengar, “You must prepare for the trip.” “Of course, I shall need some light armor. Rune, please prepare the horses and meet me by the gates in an hour.” In reply Rune nodded. Then with a quick turn, Geoffrey walked back into the castle to dress. 

One hour later, when the sun was directly overhead, Geoffrey met Rune in the spot designated. Geoffrey had adorned himself with a light bronze breastplate, and heavier riding boots. Rune was sitting atop a brown horse, brushing its mane with a gloved hand. Next to the brown horse was a graceful black stallion, adorned with maroon blankets and Geoffrey’s seal.

Climbing up onto the saddle, Geoffrey nodded approvingly to Rune. “Shall we be off?” He asked “Yes, let us ride to the north to this tower and the one called ‘F’.” Said Rune With that Geoffrey pulled his stallion into the front of the formation and led on. Time passed quickly as they rode across the green fields surrounding the keep. They rode until the keep could no longer be seen, at this time the two noticed that the countryside changed dramatically. It was no longer the friendly fields, but a desolate dessert. In the middle of this out of place dessert, there was a black tower. The tower was, as Arengar said, most uninviting. An open portcullis appeared to be the only way to enter into this dusk black tower. Sliding off their horses, the two made there way to the entrance. Lighting a torch, Rune stepped inside, followed closely by Geoffrey. Out of seemingly nowhere, a voice rang throughout the chamber: “Lord Geoffrey, I presume!” “That is me.” Called Geoffrey in reply “You have come to talk with me about our prospering ‘friendship’?” “I have. You wish to become friends?” “Yes,” called the voice from all around, “I do. Last time we met, I don’t think we saw, shall I say, eye to eye.” “But I don’t know you at all, We’ve never met until now.” “Oh but we have. Think back, way back.” The voice said. It sounded as if it were right above them. “I think he is getting closer to us.” Rune said cautiously “Oh, I remember you too. You are like his sidekick, aren’t you?” the voice boomed Geoffrey and Rune both thinking hard, were puzzled by this mystery voices identity, and their relationship to him. Suddenly Geoffrey recalled a specific event, way back in school. At this event, Geoffrey and one of Rune’s friends were fighting over who Rune’s best friend was. Rune was trying hard to keep Geoffrey and his other friend away from each other, until Geoffrey broke free of Rune’s grasp, and knocked the other off the catwalk they stood upon. A window, which shattered, broke his fall, scattering glass every where. One large piece, as big as a dirk, slashed the other friend across his right eye, making him unable to use it. Then, it came to him who this voice was. The one every school patron called Fiend. “Fiend!” Geoffrey and Rune called, as if they had both remembered at the same time. “Overlord Fiend is what they call me now,” replied Fiend, appearing in front of them, “I have waited a long time for your answer Rune. What is it?” “My answer is this, You and Geoffrey can never be friends. If I am forced to chose who I would rather befriend, I will chose Geoffrey, because he accepts me for what I am, and doesn’t think poorly of me.” Rune said loudly, almost to a point of screaming “I can’t accept that answer Rune!” Fiend cried “Then don’t accept it, but accept the fact that you will be banished from this place because of it.” Said Rune boldly With that, Fiend was banished from that place forever, and Geoffrey and Rune returned to the keep to inform each other of what happened during their years apart, remaining friends, friends who accepted each other and would never harm each other, like Overlord Fiend would.