5th Trial of Vhalar, 718
..
The desk was littered with books stacked high like mountains. Most of them were history; recording Yvithia’s memories and experiences of a time long before humans knew how to write, before the eídisi even existed. The writing, Virikai knew, was practically illegible and the illustrations were faded to a point almost completely beyond understanding. He had never been given express permission to look though the tomes, and would not dare, under his father’s watchful eye, but he hoped one day that he would be granted the privilege. What limited available space there was held piles of parchment, but the pair had managed to clear enough of the desk to place the chess board between them. “Colour?” the younger asked of his father. Verity responded with a noncommittal affirmation that he would play first, and Virikai took his seat, gesturing to the board, “After you, then.”
Lord Verity sat down on the seat opposite and cleared a small space in the maelstrom of papers until there was just enough room to move the board to the centre of the desk and rest his elbows on the edge. The board and pieces were made of was carved stone: while the material itself was not very expensive, it was obvious that there was a lot of meticulous care put into the dimensions - each pawn looked identical, the squares were immaculately formed. Virikai had always admired the set, and thought back to the memorable experience when Verity had first sat down with him to teach him the age-old game.
Once the pieces were all laid out, the Talius Lord made his first move without delay. If there was any logic and strategy to the man’s game, Virikai had yet to work it out: each time they played together (and Virikai had lost count), his father’s first five moves were never the same. The younger eídisi didn’t bother to look up as he considered - his father’s dispassionate expression would be of no help in this endeavour. Virikai’s fingers hovered between the pieces and, after a few ticks of concentration, moved one of his knights into play. The Delegate didn't seem to react at all, pushing a second pawn forwards two spaces. This particular strategy became almost immediately apparent, and Virikai wouldn’t be so easily baited. He pushed his other knight forwards as well.
Still, Verity seemed intent on his goal, pushing the next pawn along two steps forwards again. Purposefully into range of a black knight. “You’re probing too deep, you’re going to expose yourself.” Only three moves in and Virikai noticed a pattern: his father was playing a risky game, but Virikai knew he knew what he was doing. This was supposed to be just a casual game; a side-activity so that both politicians could relax in each other’s company while they continued their trial-long discussion about Viden.
“What are you talking about? You’re the one pushing your best pieces forwards first,” his father replied, half a smile appearing on his face as he tilted his head and looked back at the board from a different angle.
“While you leave your ‘best pieces’ undefended.” One of Virikai’s pawns moved forward two spaces too. But even ask he said it, he could see the merit in Verity’s style. He had opened a gap for his right-hand bishop to slide out from behind the wall of pawns, if he ever needed to. The other man merely nodded, but said nothing more.
