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It is a cool summer afternoon. The approaching autumn has brought with it a hint of chill to the air, but the two men don’t mind. They sit on the bench, shoulders barely touching, surveying the garden in bloom. A wicker basket lies beside them, long since forgotten.
“You know,” says the wizard, pulling absent-mindedly at a piece of grass, “Days like this remind me of when we met. You had that ridiculous suit of armour that you clearly polished every evening. I could see my face in it!” He snorts. “And that ridiculous sword of yours that you could hardly lift. It’s a wonder you didn’t take your own head off with it a long time ago.”
The ex-paladin raises one dark eyebrow. “You talk to me about being ridiculous? You were the one lurking in that creepy tower, dark robes and pointy hat and smelling of lightning. You very much looked like a storybook evil wizard who curses people and writes ominous messages in the sky.”
“My robes are not that bad,” the wizard protests. “Being a wizard requires a certain level of … grandiosity, and you can only achieve that in robes. Besides, that dramatic swoop of the robes took me much of my apprenticeship to perfect, and I don’t want that time to have been wasted!”
The wizard rubs at his left knee. Noticing, an expression of guilt crosses the ex-paladin’s face. “You know,” he says, more softly, “I really am sorry about that. I hate that my actions have left you in pain. I should have really talked to you before I swung my sword. I’m just fortunate that you offered me far more courtesy. I know you could have killed me, there and then.”
The wizard places a hand on the ex-paladin’s broad shoulder. “You don’t need to keep apologising, you know; I forgave you a long time ago. You were acting on bad information from someone you trusted deeply; if anything, I blame your old master for her assumptions and jumping to conclusions without evidence. Besides, you gave up your entire dream in your remorse; I don’t think that you could cause your actions to speak any louder than that.”
“It’s not my dream now, though, not really,” replies the ex-paladin. “I did dream of roaming the lands, rescuing fair maidens and slaying monsters. But … life is more complicated than that, people are more complicated. If I could not trust my judgement on who to slay and who to save, I could not trust myself as a paladin. I don’t regret leaving, not one bit. And really, this life here? It is a good one.” The ex-paladin slaps his thighs, pushing himself to his feet before offering a hand to the wizard. “Now come on, up and at you. We need to finish harvesting the ingredients for that tincture of yours before it starts getting dark. Otherwise, that little cat will be after both of our behinds!”