The "right" road

My English Short story assignment, a potentially true masterpiece. =)

This was written a long time ago, so please forgive my incompetence! I swear I've become a slightly better writer (in terms of grammar). I just didn't want to edit/change anything to keep its authenticity!

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The wind rustled Zammar’s silky black hair as the prairie landscape flashed by on his sides. He travelled fast atop his shining white mare, a form of travel that was now a common habit, and requiring no thought on his par. Riding became a second action, and his mind was free to ponder. Thoughts raced through his head faster than his mare through the prairie landscape.

“Which one..?” his train of thought was interrupted by the creaking of his shining armour, cursing at this hindering inconvenience that was forced upon him by his overprotective mother, Zammar stood up, his feet steadily planted upon his moving mares back. He hurriedly removed the armour, tossing it to the ground to expose a bare chest. The sun glistened off his jostling muscles, creating a reflection of his eight-pack abdominals upon the still puddles on the road.

Settling back down, Zammar noticed from the awed stares of the women that he was presently riding through a village. The women reminded Zammar of the one thing he had never had: true love, all women had been too intimidated by his bulging muscles and superior intellect, rejecting him on the account of being far inferior to his superior being. Despite his physical greatness, Zammar dreamt of a wife he could love with all his heart. This moment of emotional pain drew him back to his previous thoughts.
Which one to rescue? They were both princesses, both inherited royal blood, both lived a royal life and had a caring family. Both were at the age to marry. Zammar felt his deathly hourglass tick closer, and saw it through his keen eyesight. The fatal crossing approached from a distance, a fork that divided the road into two. The left road would lead him to Princess Bolga, a hulking woman with immense power, both politically and physically. Loved by her people, she controlled an entire kingdom independently. The right road would take him to Princess Florence, a beautiful angel on earth whose auburn hair and slender form were the envy of woman-a-many. Florence was however, a princess that had no power under her father; she was loved by none but family and infatuated men, how ever she was also hated by none but jealous housewives and women. As the crossroad fast approached, the pressure built on Zammar. He was unable to rescue both princesses, as the threatened execution time fast approached, leaving no room to return for the other. Zammar was faced with a situation of playing god and choosing who lives and who dies. Despite hours dwelling over this, Zammar’s decision was made in a second.

“I must turn left and rescue Princess Bolga, rescuing her is necessary for the survival of many, not to mention her popularity amongst the people,” he said out loud as if to confirm to himself, despite his intense guilt, he knew that this was best.
With his decision set, Zammar rode on, allowing the wind to rustle his hair and tickle his muscular back. After what seemed like only a few seconds, he found himself at the crossroad. Without hesitation or thought at all, Zammar turned right. His mind was blank as he raced down the road, an invisible force driving him onwards. It was not long before he reached the towering castle where the princess was held hostage. Leaping off his mare in a flash of grace, Zammar ran on until he stood beneath the massive gates. These he pulled open easily and continued on into the dark dreary interior.

It was not long before he spotted the guardian, a dragon routinely pacing the halls. It would have been easy for him to wring its wide neck and penetrate its thick hide utilising his muscles, however he chose not to, his reasoning being that dragons were an endangered species. He tip toed to the Princess chamber. Slowly he opened the door, so as not to startle the princess. His efforts were however, wasted. The shock of the princess as she saw this muscular, manly and exceptionally handsome man walk in was beyond that of description. The two lost themselves in the eyes of the other, Zammar in a tempest of love and the princess in a blinding shock at the change in her perception of reality. This state of consciousness lasted for a full minute before Zammar boldly broke the silence.

“Princess, we must be off”

“y-yes” stammered the princess

The two exited the room however; the unathletic princess was unable to keep up with Zammar’s long stride. She soon stumbled and fell to her knees, gasping for breath. At this same moment, a deep roar sounded within the lower hall ways. Realizing the urgency of the situation, Zammar grabbed the princess, and flinging her over his shoulders, he ran on as if he were unburdened. Suddenly, he felt a flash of heat behind him and craning his neck, he saw the dragon giving chase. Zammar’s muscles tensed and he heard the slightest squeal. He increased his speed, caring only to rescue his beautiful, shining star. After what seemed like an eternity, Zammar jumped out the open gates, leaving the dragon close behind in his lair, unable to pursue any farther at risk of being seen and hunted.

“I’m going to return you to your people Princess and then maybe we can you know, go out some time and it’ll be great!” There was no reply. As realization struck, Zammar dropped the limp, tender body with a thud. It remained unchanged in beauty despite being internally crushed between Zammar’s bulging biceps. As he fell on his knees in tears, an execution horn sounded far in the distance.