THE KNIGHT SAT upon his horse, which pawed at the ground and tossed its head restlessly. They stared forward at the menacing tower which rose high above the darkening field, like the extended limb of some stone giant, the crooked spires atop it forming its fingers. Inside was trapped a damsel--he knew it--and there was no one left to rescue her but he. Yet for some reason the sight of the blackened tower made him pause. It seemed familiar for some reason, although he had never seen it before.
He shook his head impatiently. He was a knight--such minor things as an unexplained fear could not faze him. He knew there was no amount of armor that could protect him from his own doubt; only he could conquer that. In fact, all he had to do was tell himself it did not even exist, and he would be able to do anything. Raising his shield, he spurred his horse and it snorted and charged across the tall blowing grass, toward the blackened tower.
As they drew closer, his steed racing, he noticed the clouds themselves racing above. His sense of unease increased. He didn't like the look of that awful spire, rising from the middle of nothing; there was something unnerving about it. Yet that was why he had to rescue the maiden within; she must be as terrified as he had felt, even more so.
Terror? He must not allow himself to feel such a thing. He pushed the thought out of his mind once and for all. He had to keep going.
They reached the tower and the horse suddenly shied and reared. He held on until it brought its front hooves down, and dismounted. The entryway to the tower gaped wide and open like some giant toothless maw. He drew his sword and dashed inside, encountering nothing but a spiraling set of stairs. He mounted the first step and jogged all the way, as fast as he could, to the top. She must wait for him there.
At the top of the spiraling stairway was a door. He reached it and, finding it locked, struck against it with his shoulder. It gave way easily, and he stumbled into the room. There she was, at the window, as if she had been watching and waiting for him. She turned to him, and she was in shadow, but he could tell she was beautiful. Long pale hair flowed down over her shoulders and she wore a dress of the finest blue silk. She held out her arms to him as he entered, and he approached her swiftly, enfolding her in his own.
"At last," he murmured, pressing his face to her hair, "I have freed you."
"At last you have," she replied in turn. "I've waited for you, for a long time."
"I am loath to admit," he told her, "I nearly was unable to come to rescue you. For some reason, this tower, this place, made me afraid...this is most unbefitting of a knight of my class, and I feel the fool for nearly letting it overcome me. A knight must know no fear."
He felt her tense against him. "You reject your fear? You deny your own doubt?"
"Yes! I do this a million times over, to rescue you from this place!"
She lifted her head now and pushed him away. He stared at her with some surprise. He noticed now that her hair was the same color as his own. Her eyes were his own pale green. Even the shape of her face was familiar. If he hadn't known better, he could have said she were his close kin, perhaps even a twin sister. The resemblance was so uncanny it gave him pause, and he backed away a step.
"Yes," she said, and her voice was sad. "You know me. You have known me a long time, yet you have always rejected me. The moment you finally allow me to come close, you push me away. You finally realize my existence, and come to save me from--what? This confining tower? You are the one who locked me away here in the first place."
"I--I don't understand," the knight stammered.
"Of course you do not," she continued. "How can one understand that which he denies all his life? A knight must never know fear? How then can he know true courage? A man learns courage only through facing his fear, through facing his doubt. Through admitting that it exists, that it always will exist. A man can never vanquish all his fears and doubts. They are a part of him. Yet he can work through them, allow them to spur him on, rather than hold him back." She placed her hands to her breast and lowered her head. "Yet you, honorable knight, deny that I even exist. You reject that which is a part of you. You felt the fear even as you came to face it. And denied that it was yours. If you deny this, then you deny me as well. I will never be a part of you." She turned back to the high window. "You had best go. You have placed me here, and your denial places the lock upon my door. If ever you should be able to face that which gives you doubt, and to admit that that which you feel is true and is a part of you, then you may return, and I will gladly come with you. Until then, leave me to my prison. You built it for me; I should be honored to dwell within it."
The knight took another step back. By now he was so overcome with terror that all he could do was flee the room, descend the spiraling staircase, and run from the blackened tower as quickly as he could. His horse barely waited for him to climb atop it before it was galloping away. He couldn't bear to cast another look back at that place. He knew now that his fear was not of the unknown, but of that which he knew all too well. That which he had known, but had pushed away, for a very long time.
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