Choose You

    "I'll wait for you..."



    It feels like a dream, he thought to himself. Just how long...have I been asleep?

    A flash bursts into the sky, a column of light piercing through the clouds. It soundlessly disappears into nothing.

    "W-where am I?" a young man asks. He gets up and takes a look at his surroundings. He seems to be at the top of a mountain right by the sea. A nice breeze comes through and the young man takes in the fresh ocean air. How long has it been since he breathed this air? How long...

    "What's this?" A small crystal ring glints in the sunlight, catching the young man's eye. He stares at it endearingly. His lovely lady had given this to him before he had gone to battle, a luck charm she had carved herself with those small, smooth fingers. But she was no frail little girl, he knew. He smiles at the memory, how dearly did he long to see his wonderful love again.

    The young man goes down the mountain with nothing but the clothes on his back and the small ring shining on his finger. He trades some precious stones in his small side pouch for some food, a small dagger, and a pistol. The young man smiled at the pistol, it seemed so advanced for the price he bought it at. He sure got a good deal. As he passes through the town, he also notices how strange it is. The fashion is a little more exotic than he remembered and the people seemed to be quite jovial. Not a soldier in sight. The buildings are bigger and exquisite, very different from what he remembered. Could architecture take a new turn so quickly? He's in the right town isn't he? He heard the rumors the East would be a little different, but he didn't realize how different.

    "Hm, that ring looks pretty rare! I'm willing to pay a hefty price for that!" one merchant proposes as the young man passes through the markets.

    "Sorry but, this isn't for sale," he gives an apologetic smile, but truly, he wasn't apologetic at all. It was his precious luck charm after all. "Excuse me sir, but, how's the war going? It seems battle has since ceased in this area."

    "Hm? What are you talking about, boy? There's no war going on."

    "I beg your pardon? This is Komen Port, is it not?"

    "That's right. But war was over a long time, boy. Where have you been?"

    "Wha--? It's over? Already?" They must have succeeded, the young man thinks to himself. He quickly excuses himself from the confused merchant and heads for the boats. If the war is over, he can finally return to his beloved! He buys a ride and boards a passenger ship. The crew warmly welcomes him as he offers a hand in carrying some luggage on board.

    "You there, young man!" an old fisherman calls out. "You don't seem to be from around here!"

    "No, sir," the young man smiles.

    "A traveler, huh? Couldn't find the statue, eh?"

    "...Statue, sir?"

    "Yeah! Seems quite a number of travelers have come here after the rumor popped up. If you're visiting all the way down here, I'd reckon you came in search for the crystal statue too. Legend has it, a soldier from long ago had found the statue of what looked like a prince. It was incredibly detailed, and life-size. But here's the catch: the statue was made entirely out of crystal. Treasure hunters and merchants come from all over to try and find it for a profit. Even some researchers from the palace came to try! Especially after a young boy from our own village was found with a small crystal piece up in the mountains," he points where the young man had just come from.

    "Ah, I see. I did not realize such a treasure was in this town."

    "Guess you really didn't know, eh?"

    "No, I'm afraid not." The young man didn't have time to think about any treasure. He had a home to return to. Besides, as a noble, treasure was not worth his time. And he wasn't the collectors type, either.

    On the third day after setting sail, the boat had met some complications.

    "Pirates!"

    "In this era?! Must be just some young bandits tryin' to find some loot." The pirates are threateningly close behind the ship, and the young man begins to see the panic in some of the passengers, who are evacuating below. They throw their ropes over the ship and begin to threaten the crew. Several of them try to fight them back off, but to no avail. One of the pirates throws down the old fisherman from earlier.

    "Don't try anything funny old man!" he yells.

    And the young man had enough of that. He immediately pulls out his pistol and shoots at the dirty pirate's leg. He was a gentleman, he wouldn't kill them. And if what he had heard was true, that the war was over, he surely did not want to continue any more violence in this land. He had already seen enough of that. The pirates rage and charge towards the young man, who skillfully dodges their grubby hands, shooting every so often; of course, only to scare them. Then, a scream.

    "Put the gun down!" a nasty looking bandit yells, holding a young woman hostage, gun pointing to her head. 

    The young man clicks his tongue, disapprovingly shaking his head. "That is no way to treat a lady."

     "I said, put it down!" The woman screams again. The young man sighs and obeys. The other pirates pin him down as the one with the gun releases the woman. He kneels down to the young man, his dirty face disgustingly close.

    "You've got a pretty face. Someone'll definitely pay for that." The young man headbutts him and the pirate is left with a bloody nose. Seeing his chance, he grabs the gun from the pirate and shoots down the rest of the sea bandits. The crew help him tie them all up and send them away on a small lifeboat.

    "You're a bloody hero, boy! You have our gratitude," the old fisherman thanks. The young woman and her son come to thank the young man as well.

    "Here! For you!" the little boy offers a handkerchief for the young man, who wipes a small cut on his arm.

    "Why, thank you, sir." The little boy beams and offers him a sweet tart as well. Within another day, the ship safely lands and the young man continues his journey back home. But it's strange.

    "Sir! You're sure this is Rosalia?" the young man asks the fisherman.

    "That's right! The great capital, Rosalia!"

    "It's much bigger since the last time I've been here."

    "Well, of course! After the war, the land prospered and this city grew into one of the biggest kingdoms in the world."

    "Amazing! In such little time," the young man whispers the last part quietly to himself.

    "Well, a lot can change in sixty years!" The young man freezes.

    Sixty years.

    "D-did you just say, sixty years?"

    "That's right! So long already, the war ended just a little before I was born! And now here we are."

    "Here we are..." the young man mutters.

    Sixty years.

    Just what on earth happened to me? How long...how long was I asleep? the young man wonders.

    The young man heads straight for the kingdom, shocked and amazed at how much has changed. The buildings, the people, everything! Is this truly his home? Despite delay from getting lost on apparently new roads, the young man finally arrives at the palace gates where soldiers stop him.

    "Hold it, sir! What business do you have here?"

    "Please! Tell them that Sir-"

    "Guards! Let him in!" a powerful voice booms behind the gates. There stood the Queen, just like how he remembered. Her beautiful face, her elegance, her grace, even her smooth ebony hair was the same. Finally, someone he recognized. He could ask her about his beloved! That old fisherman might've just been out of his mind.

    "Your Majesty!"

    "Come, quickly. To my study," the Queen softly smiles and motions for him to follow.

    "Your Majesty! You have no idea how shocked I was to find Rosalia like this! It's...magnificent, if I should say so myself. Absolutely stunning! But what of the war? What of the South's kingdom? How...how is my family?"

    "Slow down, one thing at a time," the Queen chuckles. They arrive at her study where the guards leave the two alone. The young man stares at a beautiful painting of the Queen up on the wall.

    "That...is my grandmother," the Queen replies.

    "Ah! I was mistaken then. She looks just like you, your Majesty," the young man cheerfully comments.  

    "I've been told. But truthfully, she was the one you served."

    "I beg your pardon?" The young man spins to face his Queen, who now looks at him with sad, glowing eyes.

    "To think, that you were alive this entire time. And you haven't aged a bit. I've heard stories about you, and when an elder noble had spotted you in town, I couldn't believe him till I saw you with my own eyes. A report of a young man wearing traditional clothing and a crystal ring, who was the spitting image of a noble who went missing sixty years ago during the war."

    "I-I don't understand."

    "I am Queen Rosalinda. Queen Rosalia was my grandmother," she points to the painting. "Welcome home, my brave sire. Welcome home."

    "T-that, that can't be! I-sixty years...my Queen," He looks up to the painting. "Have I really been sleeping for that long?"

    "Sleeping? Is that what you were doing? How have you not aged?"

    "I-I don't remember," but even as he spoke these words, a head-splitting pain shoots and he grabs his head in agony. A memory begins to fill in. "No wait, I do...I do remember now," he gasps.

    Sixty years ago

    "But do you really think this'll work, sir?"

    "It has to, this is where their reinforcements are ported. If we can manage to destroy all those battleships, we'll have a definite success at winning this war. The main army is almost at victory. We can quickly end this and go home." The small group of young men nod their heads in agreement. They had all been chosen for their skills, their stealth, their strength and most importantly, their perfect teamwork. Despite their group size, they were the strongest chance at apprehending the Southern troops who had come to destroy this town. They head out and almost immediately spot a large group of Southern troops approaching.

    "We underestimated their numbers!"

    "What do we do?"

    "Calm, men! We still have a chance!" the young man reassures, clearly the leader and the strongest of the group. "We can do it. We have to. Even if it costs us our lives."

    The group splits up between the bombers who'll take down the ships and ones who'll distract the troops already camped out here in the mountains. The young noble and his group sneak up at the rear end of the camp, and slowly but surely begin taking down their numbers. Now aware of their presence, the Southern troops begin to retaliate. 

    Seeing the incoming troops, he kisses his lucky charm and smiles. "I said at the cost of our lives, but I don't plan on dying any time soon!"

    "You have my envy, to have a lady waiting for you back home!"

    "Quit complaining, and get married yourself!" one of them jokes and smacks the complaining sir on the head in the middle of battle. But both of them are suddenly cut short when the Southern general enters the fray. He cuts them down with his brutal strength.

    "No!" He was slowly beginning to see their side dwindle. His comrades courageously fought back, but their numbers are just too great, as expected. Eventually, he was the only one left fighting.

    "Just a few more," he gasps, trying to stay optimistic, although 'just a few' really wasn't just a few. But he couldn't die yet. Not now. He knew he was putting his life on the line, but he didn't expect to be dying already. Not yet. He cries out and swings his sword. The South general merely laughs and tells his soldiers to back away. He overpowers the young noble and breaks his sword. Suddenly, an explosion resounds in the distance. The other team must've made it.

    "Not yet," he breathes. Heavily bleeding and now weaponless, he swings his fists at the general. He trips on his own feet and crashes into the ground. "Not yet."

    "Indeed, not yet," the general cruelly replies, and stabs his sword into the noble. He turns his back and heads for the ships, the battle now done. Suddenly, the young noble yells another battle cry, urging his own body to get back up.

    "Not yet!" The general laughs, entertained by his desperation. The struggling leader sees the enemy lunging toward him. Then suddenly...a light. The dying noble looks down. His ring is glowing. The ring resonates brightly and a wave of light blows away the Southern soldiers. The general flies through the air and lands on his own sword. The ring resonates again, making the mountain shake and rocks come tumbling down around them. Barely conscious, the noble wanders away from the battleground, struggling to get to the rest of his comrades at the coast. He collapses in a unknown area and stares at his glowing ring. He whispers his beloved's name as tears streak his face. 

    Present 

    Then...that's when he woke up. 

    "She saved me...she saved me," the young noble cries as he stares down at his ring. He scrambles to the Queen, grabbing her arms, "Where is she? Where is my Lady?"

    The Queen smiles, "I heard long ago, that she was the most beautiful in the land, on par with the Queen. But my grandmother even said herself, that she believed your lady was the most beautiful. When word of your...disappearance came, your lady refused to believe it and hoped you would come back. Countless suitors from all around the world came for her, but she refused them all, no matter how sweet they were or how much they offered. She was a very strong-willed woman. She would only wait for your return." She walks over to her desk and writes on a small paper with a fancy feathered pen. "Here, I've added directions since the town has been reconstructed. You'll find what you're looking for."

    Meanwhile, a small manor lies quietly on the outskirts of the city. 

    "M-my Lady...someone is here to see you."

    "...I see," an elderly woman sighs heavily, her own breath weighing down her petite head. "I want no visitors."

    "B-but, my Lady!"

    "No," she says firmly. The attendant nervously nods and makes her exit.

    "A guest is here, I've heard," an older attendant, the Head Maid, says as she enters the room. She had been with her mistress for many years now; the two were so close they were practically sisters. 

    "I've already said I don't wish to see them."

    "My Lady...I truly think you should meet this visitor," the Head Maid quietly says with a smile. The elderly woman turns her head at the mischievous tone her maid is suddenly speaking with.

    "...All right. If you say so." The Head Maid nods and leaves to retrieve their mysterious guest. The elderly woman wondered just who it might be for the Head Maid, who usually doesn't oppose her, to suggest her to meet them. Staring out her window, she hears them enter.

    "My Lady." That voice. She hadn't heard that voice in so long, she had thought she'd forgotten it. Apparently not.

    "My Lady, it is I. I am...back home." The elderly woman slowly spins around, half expecting to be disappointed, half hoping she heard right. After all, in the past, there was time a foolish noble had pretended to be her beloved by disguising his voice and changing his face, but she saw right through it. But she was old now, there were no longer visits from suitors. And her beloved, if it were truly him, why did he sound like she remembered? It had been sixty long years, he should sound like an old soul, like herself. But no, it was him. She just knew it. She looked up and met his eyes. They were exactly the same as sixty years ago, just as shining, just as burning.

    "My Dear," she whispered, as tears began to stream down her face. They embrace, the young noble gently holding her in his arms, afraid of breaking her frail body. She looked the same to him as well, despite aging. Her beautiful eyes, her button nose, her lovely aura, her sweet smile, they were all the same in his eyes. She laughed as he gave a small kiss on her forehead.

    "I always knew you'd come back."

    "It's because of you, you saved me. You brought me back," he smiles and shows her his ring. She laughs as he brings their hands together, her own ring on her wrinkled finger matching his. They embrace again, in tears, in smiles, and speak no more. They settle down, and her dear explains what had happened after all these years, and his beloved silently listens. They spend the rest of the day together, refusing to leave each other alone. But his beloved worried. They sit in her garden, she, now too weak to take long strolls or exciting dates.

    "Amazing. I still can't believe it. I've waited so long, I've thought over and over again what I would do when you returned, what we would do together, and now here you are."

    "I will never leave you again, my love. I'm so sorry for making you wait, for leaving you alone for all these years," he tries to hold back a new set of tears as he thinks about all the pain his beloved had gone through.

    "I'm just glad that you're alive, that you were okay."

    "I heard that many suitors came for you, but you rejected them all," the noble teased. "You didn't have to wait for me all these years. You should've chosen one. I'm sure one of them was bound to be to your liking."

    "None. None were as good as you," his beloved replied. "And besides, you didn't think I just waited here, sitting all day doing nothing? I've lived my life. I traveled the world, half hoping I'd somehow find you. I learned many new things, picked up on several new skills, I was quite an adventurous woman," she chuckled.

    "So I see. I wouldn't expect you to sit still. You weren't that kind of woman. That's one of the many reasons I love about you."

    "But now...I am old. Perhaps you may still love me, but...I can no longer be the beautiful maiden that once belonged to you. I am-"

    "No...no, don't say that, please, don't say that. No matter what," he gently holds her face into his hands, "you are still the most beautiful woman in the entire world." His beloved begins to cry again, and they let their tears fall together again.

    "You don't...think I'm too old?"

    "I choose to be here. I choose you. And I will always choose you."