Heir of Cinders [FADING EMBERS #1] - ON HOLD

18.1 - Pieces on a Board

It was Farisa's third win in a row, and Faisuri had grown weary of her own fruitless endeavors.

"Shall we give it another try?" offered Farisa, already beginning to rearrange the pieces on the board.

Faisuri pouted. "I don't understand. Are you that good with this game, or am I simply that bad?"

The older woman chuckled. "No, you are just a tad inattentive," she pointed out, landing a dainty finger upon the wooden king piece. "It's good that you know your priorities and your end goal, but more often than not, you can't approach it with a one-track mind. You have to branch out, taking in the entirety of the board, seeing which pieces you can use, as well as potential threats coming in from the sides."

"Huh. I'm not convinced that's all there is to it."

"This game is simple, my dear! Hardly matches up to the complexities of life. The rules are very clear-cut."

The young lady pursed her lips, fiddling with a battle mage piece between her gloved fingers before setting it down upon its corresponding hexagon upon the honeycomb-like grid. "Funny, isn't it? How the only time women like us will ever get to experience some semblance of leading an army through war... is by moving wooden pieces upon a grid."

"You leave the real warring to your cousin. The battlefield is no place for a lady," her aunt dismissed.

"Then, why do we even have a queen in this game?" Faisuri questioned, lifting up the crowned piece for emphasis.

"'Tis just a game. You can hardly compare it to reality."

"I'd have thought women would have more of a role in warfare in Althewyn, seeing as our culture is so heavily derived from the aerhyans."

The aunt began the game with a quick, deliberate movement of a piece, though the inquiry on written on her features showed that her thoughts were on her niece's words. "Why the sudden fascination with war?" asked Farisa, her right eyebrow forming an arch. "Do you not recall the time you held a training sword in your hand?"

Faisuri cringed, recalling more the feverish heat upon her cheeks than the stinging cuts and blemishes on her fair skin. If there was one thing to be learned from that catastrophe, it was that putting a weapon in her grasp was a terrible notion. To envision herself standing in the middle of the din of battle, shrouded by a flurry of dust, raising a sword to the air and commanding lives to charge forth for a cause... would be a dream for the drunk.

"T'was hypothetical," justified the teenage noble. "Really, the thought of me, frail as I am, stepping foot on the battleground is as laughable as the idea that boars could fly!"

"Pray that you should never have to, child. We should be content for our peaceful lives the way they are."

Faisuri's fingers, hugging a wooden knight by its sculpted torso, paused in midair. Her eyes found those of her aunt's. "Are you, though?" she asked, quietly.

She was met with silence.

The older woman's gaze had fallen to the board, the thoughtful expression on her face a facade for her hesitation. She took her time, carefully choosing between her pieces, even when she had no need for it.

"Have you ever wondered why I named your cousin 'Daud'?" Farisa finally asked.

Faisuri frowned slightly at this attempt to divert the subject, but shook her head. Evasive as her aunt was, she dared not tread too far into a sensitive area. She figured that she ought to see where this detour might take them.

A plaintive smile wandered into her aunt's countenance. Her dark eyes stared past her, as if they were looking towards a distant horizon, reliving memories that had long been left behind.