Down the Hallway

Two doors. That was all I had to choose from. Two doors would potentially decide my fate. What was behind the doors would decide my fate. I had come this far. My stomach did backflips as I stood between the two doors. The room grew colder the longer I stood. I shivered as the cold breeze swept around me. The soft glow of the candles surrounding me did not ease my discomfort like it normally would have. I pulled my jacket tighter around myself. My gaze shifted between the two doors. The first door was unappealing. The tall, dark, mahogany wood stretched from the floor to the ceiling. The doorknob was solid gold and glinted in the soft candlelight. A gold lion head with ruby red eyes doorknocker hung directly in the center. A blood-red curtain draped itself around the doorframe. My blood could be draped around that doorway. I shook. It was cold, uninviting. A feeling of dread washed over me the longer I stared. I turned to the second door.

In perfect contrast to the sinister loom of the first, the second door was bright. The soft white did not stand as tall as the dark and brooding mahogany. This door was delicate. Sparkling crystal replaced the harsh golds. A painted butterfly sat where the lion's head once conquered. Butterflies danced around flowers in the stained-glass windows set in the wood. Small ferns decorated either side. Vines wove themselves around the candelabras. The sheer draping blew in the small breeze. The yellow candlelight making the door feel softer, more intriguing. One could say there was an obvious choice. There could be.

I took two steps back. With both doors in my vision, I could see the obvious choice. With its delicate white paint and bouncing butterflies, the door to my right made the most sense. The brooding darkness and harsh air surrounding the door to my left was gut-wrenching. I also knew it was not that simple. How could it be? One door could kill me. One door could make me king or whatever it was the Steadfastmen said.

“Think. How could this possibly be a trick?” I said to myself.

I sat on the floor. I ran my hand along the gray stone hoping the answer would come up through the grout. I let out a sigh. This should not be that difficult of a decision. My eyes moved between the two doors. The smell of honeysuckle danced through the air surrounding the white door. My stomach rumbled.

“I should at least make the decision before I waste away.” I laughed to myself at my own joke.

“Okay, focus,” I said.

There was only one way to pick a door. I closed my eyes and spun around five times for good measure. The walk to the door was short. I kept my eyes closed as I felt for the doorknob. I pulled the door open as I opened my eyes. The solid gold handle entered my blurry vision. I looked through the entry. Darkness traveled for miles in every direction. I let out a breath. Well, this was the door I chose. I grabbed a candlestick and stepped into the abyss. The hallway was cold and damp. I much preferred the room with the doors. The echo of my footsteps was all I heard in the emptiness. Why was this hallway so empty? I walked for what felt like hours. The sounds of dripping water and moving rocks kept me on my toes. Voices brought me to a stop. I strained my ears to follow the two gruff voices.

The voices grew clearer as I neared them.

“Yeah, he picked the door on the left.” One said.

“Which one was left?” The other asked.

“The mahogany one.” He replied.

“No, I mean, which one is left?” The other asked.

I stifled a laugh. What had I gotten myself into? I kept walking towards the voices. The air grew warmer the closer I walked. More voices entered the conversation. I came to a stop at a door. Light filtered from the bottom and into the hallway.

“So, what do we do now?” A deep voice asked.

“Well, we have a coronation and dinners and finally can stop sleeping in the stables!” A clear voice with an accent said.

“Well, that’s all well and dandy, but what do we do about the boy? No one can find him.” The deep one said.

“What do ya mean no one can find him?” A different, darker voice asked.

“Well, we all thought he wouldn’t walk away from the door once he picked because he would be too scared, but, uh, he kept walking. Now, no one can find him.” A voice said slowly.

“Well, isn’t anyone going to go find him?!” The darker voice boomed.

“Yes, sir. Right away!”

           I counted the voices of seven men clammer to stand. A chorus of ‘yes sir’ was heard. I held my breath as their footsteps grew closer. The door swung open, flooding the hallway with golden light. The candlestick fell from my grasp as I yelled. Seven burly men stood in the doorway. I heaved and scrambled from the wall.

           “I thought I told you blithering idiots to go find the boy! We don’t have all day! What are you standing around for!?” The dark voice sounded from the room.

           The seven men stumbled to move out of the way. The largest one, a man with a gross beard and a kilt, pulled me into the room. A man in a stood at the mantel, poking at the fire. His long, black hair was tied back. His black shirt and pants were decorated with a pattern I did not recognize. This was a strange contrast to my t-shirt and jeans.

           “We found him, sir!” The one holding me said.

           “Very funny! I don’t have time for you-” He cut himself off as he turned.

           I gave a small wave. The man smoothed out his shirt before kneeling. The large man let go of me to knee with everyone else.

           “My king, I’m so glad they found you. I am Sir Reginald, at your service.” Sir Reginald said as he bowed his head.

           “I’m Tod.” I said, unsure of what to do, “Uh, you can stand up now.”

           “Your Highness, it is wonderful to meet you. I hope to do you a great service, in the same way, I did our king before you.” Sir Reginald stood and smoothed his pants.

           “Yeah, about that…I’m king? For real?” I asked.

           “Yes, and we are your King’s Guard, ready to protect you,” Reginald said.

           A window caught my eye as I looked around. The rolling green hills and small villages were unfamiliar. The air was clear and crisp. Women and children rode in horse-drawn carriages. Men were herding sheep, horses, and chickens. This wasn’t Brooklyn.