Playing it Unsafe: Chapter 1

This is the first Chapter of a story I wrote for class my last semester of College. Please post feedback, I would like to know what you think about it, honestly. I will post the following portions soon. Thanks for reading, enjoy!

Playing it Unsafe

A pawn learns about the power of surrender

Light entered Pwan’s world like a living dagger, slicing his familiar darkness open to its brilliant scrutiny. First a knife’s edge creating shadows where blackness was; then the full, blinding noon of visibility as the two sides of his home swung apart. He felt the invigorating caress of its warmth as the hollow encasement opened, exposing him to its power. Had Pwan been a reading man he might have compared his experience with that of a letter on a page of a book being opened for the first time, its cover swinging wide to permit the light to illuminate its story. As it was, he only knew that the light hurt his eyes. Before he really had time to adjust to the light’s stimulating force and explore his surroundings, he was lifted from his carved slot, away from the remaining half of the enclosure he had known as home for so long.

Pwan stood on a flat surface, his eyes still adjusting to the light. Looking down to avoid the blinding pain he saw a flat field, checked with interlocking, two-toned squares. Row by row, file on file they ran, black and white, black and white, as far as he could see. Across the field on the other side there seemed to be a row of people, perhaps they were—

“Howdy Naybur” came a voice from Pwan’s left elbow.

The realization that he was not alone brought great comfort to an unrealized fear. Turning toward the voice, Pwan found he was actually part of a row himself; behind the speaker were 5 or 6 other soldiers, each in his own square, facing forward. Every of them looked nearly the same and also very similar to Pwan himself, he realized. A solid wooden base gave way to a tapered, circular body, an armored collar and a round, sturdy head. Pwan looked back at the sour-faced speaker and realized he was expecting an answer.

“Oh, hi there” he stammered “I’m Pwan”.

“Me name’s Panzi” replied the stumpy foot soldier.

“And I’m Dreem” interjected a young, cheerful fellow on the other side of Pwan.

Dreem was the last one in the row. It seemed that the field ended on the other side of him, perhaps even dropped off like a precipice. However, before Pwan had time to investigate more Panzi continued speaking.

“Ya’ll ‘pear a tab bit lost. This yer first battle?”

Pwan and Dreem both nodded as Panzi went on.

“It’s all kinds of tough, our job. We’s the first defense, the first offense, and we git captured a lot. We-uns just has to do what the King says so, no choices. Might not be too bad but he don’t care much ‘bout us Pawns. We’s expenduble.”

“Oh come now, it’s not as bad as all that!” A new voice entered the conversation from directly behind Pwan.

He realized there was, in fact, another entire row of warriors behind him. They were not all the same as was his row. Each one appeared unique and different. The one who had spoken was a stately gentleman on horseback, sitting at ease on his fearsome charger. His armor seemed carved with care from the finest white maple, and his lance, pennant fluttering in the breeze, rested in a holster on his stirrup. The helmet visor was open just enough to give Pwan an idea that his face was kind and wise.

“Sure, we each have a role to play” the Knight continued “but each one has its own unique dangers. It’s important that we trust the King, he knows what he’s doing”.

Panzi’s replying grunt showed that he was not convinced.

“I apologize, gentlemen” the horseman continued “the King is actually summoning me to move out front now.”

Sideways, up and over he went, and was gone. Before Pwan had time to figure out where his path had taken him, a booming voice from behind and above Dreem interjected

“Sure there are dangers just like the Knight said. That’s why we’ve got to be strong and courageous.”

Looking back, Pwan could see the last square was occupied by a tower of solid brick and stone. The battlements seemed to scrape the sky, gleaming fierce in the golden glow of that bright sun.

“Easy fer you to say, Ha!” muttered Panzi.

As Panzi and the Fortress continued, Pwan turned to Dreem.

“What do you make of all this?” He asked.

“It’s interesting” came the reply “I am more interested in this, though, look! I can see beyond this field. Do you see that?”

“What?” Asked Pwan, “you mean there is more, something outside this field?”

“Yes, can’t you see-I see a big box of some sort; I see another surface under this field, larger than this it seems. I even see something moving, or wait-perhaps someone?”

“What can it all mean, Dreem?” Pwan questioned his new friend.

“I wish I knew” Dreem responded. “Say, I think I need to move forward now. The King is asking me to go.”

Pwan wanted to ask how he knew; he wanted to tell him to stay, he wanted--but Dreem was gone, gone forward to the battle. Pwan could just make out his friend’s shape ahead, standing strong in his square. He seemed so brave, so fearless, and so good.

As his attention returned to the other soldiers around him he realized that Panzi had advanced a little as well. The bishop, another of the back row warriors was moving too. He glided by Pwan, his willowy trunk swaying as he moved. At that moment, Battlebar, as the fortress in the corner was called, pointed attention to the front.

“It looks like our friend Dreem is in danger” He rumbled.

Straining to see, Pwan could make out several of the opposing soldiers standing near the little Pawn. There was a flurry of activity, of soldiers maneuvering for the capture, of mind-bending strategy, of setting up the positions until suddenly a move was made. An opposing bishop slid in from across the board and captured Dreem. Pwan wanted to be there to protect him, to help his friend, but he was too far away.

Just then, a white Knight cut in to attack the bishop, then a black Rook to attack the knight. Move after move left Pwan feeling dizzy and a bit sick. As the action settled all Pwan could think about was his friend’s smiling face. He was always so happy, and he had this ability to see things others couldn’t. Pwan wanted to hear more about the stuff beyond the field, things only Dreem seemed to see.

“Why him? Why?” He asked no one in particular.

Sadness was quickly replaced by anger; anger at the enemy troops and anger at the King for letting Dreem go forward. Could Panzi be right? Perhaps the King didn’t care.

Timing is a funny thing, really. At that moment the King himself moved over next to Pwan. He basically traded positions with the Rook, Battlebar, who moved over near where the King had been before. The Pawn decided to seize the opportunity. Overcoming his hesitation to address the royal warrior who presented such an imposing figure in his hardened oak armor and beautiful, polished cloak carved from the finest red cherry, Pwan stepped forward. Forcing all the courage in his frame into one single phrase, he blurted to the King:

“SiremayIgofightnowtheyjustkilledmyfriend!”

With a quizzical smile, the King held out his hand.

“Slow down there, Pwan. Take a deep breath, OK?

As Pwan felt foolish for his haste the King continued.

“There now, what are you trying to tell me?”

“I’d like to go fight, Sire” Pwan repeated. “I’m ready, can I move forward?”

Pwan could tell by the look in the King’s eyes that he would say no. “What is it” he wondered; the tall ruler seemed sort of sad, yet was almost smiling. It didn’t make sense to Pwan-he wanted to go fight. Why wouldn’t the King let him? It was frustrating.

Time slowed to a drag for Pwan. Nothing seemed to happen; he was useless, sitting here in the King’s shadow unable to help his friend in any way. He began to think about how he could repay the enemy for what they had done to Dreem. He got so distracted that had the King not been so near he would likely have been completely unaware of the battle around him.

As it was, Pwan’s thoughts kept being interrupted by the King as he watched and talked with the other soldiers. The King was constantly involved in whatever was happening anywhere on the battlefield. He planned, directed and encouraged.

“How does he do it?” Pwan wondered to himself “how does he talk to them even when they are far away?”

He remembered Dreem telling him the King had asked him to move. Even the Knight had said something similar. So, how did they know, Pwan wondered. It all seemed very mysterious and Pwan did not understand. On the other hand, one thing he did begin to understand was how much the king actually did care for his people. Emotion etched his face as clearly as if it had been carved there, especially when a Pawn or even more when his Queen was in danger. Pwan began to understand the level of love the King had for his people, his cause and his wife. He valued her above all. The blame he had placed on the King for Dreem’s capture began to slip. Pwan wanted to blame him, to blame someone, to be angry. Yet, the King cared so much, so obviously, that the only thing Pwan could do was wonder how the King had felt when Dreem was in danger. His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the King’s voice.

“You may move forward now, Pwan” he heard.

Chapter 2 will be posted soon, so check back :)

In Truth,

Stephen