A Tale as Old as Time

II

Deciding to go out into the forest might not have been such a good idea. It was an hour after lunch, Matthew reckoned, and already it had begun to rain. He didn't mind; he liked the rain, and he was especially fond of the snow, but he would probably be late getting home, and he didn't want Francis to worry about him.

Oh, what did it matter? He was a few weeks shy of nineteen. He was definitely old enough to look after himself, and he didn't fear the animals in the forest; they would rarely attack when shown a little respect.

Overhead, there was a crack of thunder and the rain became a downpour instead of light sprinkling. Matthew muttered less than saintlike words with an audible groan, then stopped in his tracks, looking around. He must have gone in the forest a hundred times, but he didn't recognise the area around him. Was he somehow lost?

“Alright, keep calm, Matthew. It'll be alright,” he told himself, seeking temporary shelter under a large tree limb. He looked around again, more carefully this time. The area was completely foreign to him.

Suddenly, his dog began to growl at something unseen. He was normally good-tempered, and didn't growl or bark unless he was intimidated by something. Maybe things weren't as alright as Matthew wanted to believe.

“What is it, eh? Do you smell something out there?” Matthew asked quietly, crouching down to the animal's height and trying to follow his gaze. It was easy to miss, but there was a path of undergrowth just barely starting to grow among the trees. All of a sudden, the dog ran off along the trail, barking as he went.

Matthew was horrified. “Wait, come back here! Stop before you get yourself into trouble!” He exclaimed, securing the basket of fruits and mushrooms before running after his pet, who was hard to miss, great white thing that he was.

The two of them ran for nearly five minutes before coming to a pair of gates. Matthew was breathing heavily, his borrowed cloak soaked and dirty. Hopefully, it would wash easily, and Francis wouldn't be too cross.

While catching his breath, the young man gazed through the gates and gasped. A castle, grey, gloomy and imposing, stood just beyond. It was far more impressive than anything Matthew had seen, from the serpentine gargoyles that served as gutters as well as an intimidation factor, to the many spiraling towers that must have held a terrific view. How had he never seen this from the village before?

If only he could visit. He'd only dreamt of other castles in other, more faraway places in the country. Nothing would be quite so exciting as being able to explore a castle all on his own.

He sighed and observed the castle with a dreamy smile, leaning against the gates. When he did so, they opened, and Matthew immediately pulled back, but the dog beside him ran forward and began to explore the grounds.

“No! This isn't our home! You can't run around like this!” The young man hissed, running after him and stopping him under the archway, where two marble statues depicting armed guards stood watch over the blooming gardens. They wore armour, but had no helmets on to obscure their faces.

Matthew reached out and stroked the cheek of one of them, finding it looked very much like himself. However, the other one did not. They had the same posture, standing up straight with both hands on the hilt a sword, its tip resting on the ground. They even had the same expression; both of them gazed out ahead of them, both wearing equally confident expressions. As surprising as it was, they had very different features.

The statue that looked a little like him was tall and had a very athletic frame. His partner was half a head shorter than him, his face had a sterner expression, and his hair was much longer, but choppier. The two of them looked so realistic, Matthew almost expected them to move, telling him he was trespassing.