The Creators: Book Three

Chapter Six

Chaos

Prelude: Queen's Gambit

CORRUPTION

I detested metaphors. Language itself was a horrific abstraction of communication, and metaphors were the vilest of linguistic concoctions, though perhaps similes were even worse. That being said, I was the god of the astral plane, which meant metaphors became quite literal for me, and so I was vexed to find myself sitting on Diamond's astral garden, and staring at a chessboard.

The board was not set up in the traditional sense. Some pieces were missing, others were more numerous than usual, and their placement at the beginning of the game was all wrong. My dark king stood in her correct position at the center-back. She was the focal point of which all other pieces moved and my greatest source of weakness. My beloved queen stood in the far right corner, huddled with her treacherous bishop and her loyal rook. I had only the one bishop on my side of the board; sneaky and elusive, capable of traversing between pieces like the snake she was. Similarly, I had only the one rook; stalwart and loyal, but also terribly predictable. This rook would stand in defense of her queen no matter the danger, and the queen would always stand in defense of the bishop, for the queen had become dependent on the bishop's lies. My two knights flanked my king, capable of flying over the gameboard and attacking the enemy unpredictably. My many pawns stood before the power-pieces, so numerous that they overflowed their designated front row, and occupied every space leading to the enemy's front.

I had an overwhelming advantage in numbers, but the pieces across from me were of much higher quality. The row that should've been occupied by white pawns was instead filled with knights, for the footmen of the enemy were much more powerful than my own, and their abilities made them very hard to predict. The white player also had two bishops to rival my own; one rested timidly upon the white squares, while the other licked her fangs hungrily upon the black. Similar to my side of the board, the enemy had only one rook, and that rook stood beside her queen no matter the danger. Also similarly to my board, the queen, rook, and dark-squared bishop moved in tandem, starting at the far corner and seeking to maneuver their way around the edges of the board. The timid white bishop positioned herself to maneuver between the rows of black pawns, and strike my own bishop from the board. She took her king with her on this perilous journey, right into the heart of my force.

There was a problem with this ridiculous metaphor, however. The only piece I could move at all was my king, and not reliably. My opponent could make a dozen moves at once before I could make a single one, and my only hope was to bait a trap and pray that the pieces could not see the obfuscation for what it was. I had a good delaying entrapment setup for my opponent's queen, dark-bishop, and rook, but my second entrapment was far more dangerous. The gambit would require me to put my king in jeopardy, but it also lent me the chance at a checkmate.

And who was my opponent? Death, I supposed. Whether they knew it or not, the pieces across from me were being moved by the uncaring and unthinking force of nothing. I didn't hate them for being ignorant; I pitied most of them for being fated to die on this board. Well, that wasn't entirely true; I hated the king, but I could not understand why he conjured such a deep and visceral odium within me.

I glanced across the board and studied the crowned piece, then I drew my eyes to the piece standing next to it. The white-squared bishop stood timidly to the king's left, but on his right, stood another king. This king was just as important as the first and much, much more vulnerable. The bishop would guide both kings through the forest of pawns, and into the very back row of my side of the board. Though the board was skewed and the formations were all wrong, the rules of the game were still the same; checkmate and the game is over. It didn't matter which king.