The Professor

The Professor stood at the edge of the woods. He checked the Map, the Compass, and the Sextant, in that order. He was sure. He was in the right place.

He peered over the trees. He could just make out the top of the Tower against the brilliant sunset. It would soon be time, but he needed rest. His journey had been long, and arduous.

He sat down at the base of an ancient tree and opened his satchel. His meal would be meager tonight, but it would have to do. If he didn’t make it to the Tower tonight, he would have to wait decades before he could even begin to hope for astrological conditions to be right before he would be able to enter again.

He read his arcane scroll, wondering if the Simpleton was better prepared. If He arrived tonight, it could be disastrous. If the Professor failed, the scales could be irrevocably tipped in favor of Evil.

If he failed.

This story has no comments.