A Game of Chess (Emblem if you would be so kind =))

Today was yet another day. Another day of meditation, training, and tea drinking. Emblem had created quite a joy in this endless circle of events. It seemed as if time itself was kind to him, and allowed him to think. Well, time, and the Chalice, covered in ancient magical barriers. In exchange for more cooperation, Emblem was allowed to have the Chalice with him at all times, and the prison door was closed, but not locked. The guards had no choice really, Emblem would either knock down a wall, or blow up the door. Other prisoners did not know, both for their safety, and Emblem's safety. Nobody was to open that door without good notice of it. Accidentally, this door was the third that was installed after his stay, and the wall next to it had shown multiple filled-up holes, all created by that one pyromancer who took the one free hour he would get lightly. Emblem took a sip from his tea, enjoyed it's subtle flavor, and listened to the solemn sounds of the prison yard. Alarmingly, he had heard nothing. On regular days, K-block would be filled with murderous whispers, silent feet tapping on the concrete, and chinks of metal from various sources. However, silence was present, and it had brought a friend. Emblem closed his eyes, but it was futile. He had a guest.

“So this is the notorious Emblem…and I have expected you to be locked in an air tight pressure chamber 40 leagues under the sea. Alas they don’t make prisons like they use to.”

''I can assure you, there's nothing wrong with this prison. Dangerous metahumans go elsewhere. The most dangerous ones, go where ever they please. Classify me in whichever directory I am most fitting.''

A slight feeling of discomfort tried to creep over Emblem's magically calmed mind, but he would not have any of it. He gazed at the Chalice of Harmony standing proud and adorned on top of his wooden table, took another sip of his tea, and looked back at the door. It was clear as crystal, as ever. This source of discomfort, was one he had felt times before. Times of dying. Was it his time to pass on? Then again, if he would, he would go by means of his tribe. His energy would be recollected, refreshed within the collective, his soul sharing his knowledge, before passing on to the Otherworld. On the other hand, his near-deaths had never been a force in his control. Emblem deemed it best to talk. He was sure of it that he would be no match for Death. Then again, it might just not be death, nor a messenger. There was only one way to find out.

''I had not thought this to be my...time. Is it truly so that on the other side of my door, my demise awaits? I must be delusional, but then again, where are my manners? Please, feel free to enter, door's open, and have a cup of tea. I have a wooden chair to offer, and my apparently notorious company.''

Emblem formed his lines carefully. He thought danger was in front of his door, but if he was mistaking, then he was starting to suffer from being alone. It'd be blunt to call any other visitor a danger to him. Emblem did not often get guests, and while he had known some of them to be kindhearted, such as his old friend Alyss McGee, now known as Helen Jet, he knew some of them would not be of such nature. Caution was his newest friend in this prison. As for Emblem himself, he had been lying on his bed, and was not about to move.

Charades. Emblem had seen a share of it, but this one, well, let's just say that the act this one was pulling, wasn't to fool Emblem. Mislead him, but not fool him. One would guess from subtle hints that his visitor was giving off that he'd be different, but when you talk about business, and magically conjure a chessboard, then you're obviously something different. He sat up, and with an interested, reasoning voice, Emblem spoke.

'' Minare is the name used for the towers of Islamic Mosques, which is used to call forth the Aran five times a day. Dante reminds me of the Heavenly Comedy, leaving me puzzled about you. A very interesting name you have, Mr. Minare. A mixture of Mediterranean traits, yet you appear as a well-dressed Caucasian male. Vexing, I must admit.''

While thinking, and in all honesty being impressed somewhat, Emblem fetched himself another cup of tea. He loved this particular tea element, he loved making it himself. It was one of the only things he was allowed to create in these cold days, in his lonely cell. However, his visitor had conjured up a game of chess, depicting Emblem as a Crusader. Interesting enough, his opponent's pieces were more in style with it's color. Dark, gritty, Gothic. Emblem preferred the Crusader pieces. This board did seem magical, but it did not seem to do any harm.

''A business transaction. Amusing. I have nothing to offer. Withdrawn from the world, I stay in my cell until my time has come to rise up and fulfill the new role destiny has planned for me. Until that time, I remain.''

Emblem rubbed his sore neck, and looked from the chess game to his visitor. It remained a mystery as to what his plans was. Emblem was intrigued by his adversary's posture. It was unlike anyone he had ever seen who wanted to harm him. However, as every deal with a devil, you had to be careful. Speaking in his right, Emblem knew one thing. He would follow his own path. He decided to play and see where this would go. For one thing, he'd want to know the real name of this imposing adversary.

''You know, as I see it, a game of kings is worthless if the king do not know who his opponent is. My name has been lost, but I listen to only one. Emblem Trailblazer. Truly, Dante, you have a name that you are known for? You seem more knowledgeable then that.''

Emblem looked down at the board, and moved his first piece. A Simple pawn, standing before it's King, one step forward, opening the way for the Queen and the Bishop.

''You know, for a man so cunning, and called Minare, I would almost see the Crusaders as an insult. The Crusaders were nothing more then a veil to the real troubles of Europe in the middle ages. The first Crusaders were nothing more then farmers and beggars, believing those heathens that call themselves muslims should be either converted to the true belief, or killed. Even Richard Lionheart, king in his own country, was nothing more then a savage knight when fighting. That was, until he and Saladin fostered one of the most interesting long-distance friendships I have ever witnessed. The Muslims did not suffer half as much from the Crusaders as the Crusaders did from the Muslims. The Muslim world was hardly impacted, as Saladin was a great leader. If I take anything from this, and your last name being Turkish, I say you must think I'm nothing more then a pawn in this game, empty soldiers filling places, only hoping to achieve greatness.''

Emblem looked up at Dante, with a piercing look at the 'businessman'.

''A game of kings. Saladin and Lionheart? Pfuh,..A charade. The most interesting of games, manipulated. What could a mere Crusader, such as myself, have to offer to you?''

As Dante relocated his knight, he talked to Emblem about fate. Fate. Such bittersweet symphonies on the sheet music of life. While listening to Dante's wordplay, Emblem had prepared an answer to this playful duel of linguistics. He never got to answer though, as Dante did not give him time to answer. The reaper had leaned back, and well, it seemed he was thinking hard, and when he talked, he said something that Emblem would not want to disregard.

Emblem's face showed recognition at the mention of Alyss, his previous visitor. An old friend from back in the Titan days of Emblem, Alyss has returned to this part of the world, and was quite eager to clean some mess up. It was a little concern shown on his face, a subtle hint, as she partnered up with quite a dark one. Emblem's face set itself in a more serious pose, looking down at the chess board, and back up at his visitor.

''It is clear that ever King needs his servants. Ever individual has a purpose, has needs, desires. I am amazed with your knowledge of the Crusaders, Dante. They are quite interesting, well, at least to me. As you just showed, there's more then one way to look at things, and the Crusaders protray a multitude of multiple. I did not want to go all out and explain that, that would ruin our game, and our conversation. That would be a shame, wouldn't it?

After this, Dante, or better yet Necati, unraveled a veil Emblem wanted to pierce through moment one. Yet after his visitor unveiled it, Emblem knew it was one he might have rather not. Not because of the name or the appearance, as his visitor always was Necati, but the fact that he showed his name. If Necati would tell you his true name just like that, it meant business. Emblem would be better off being extra careful around this one. Many burned their hands to this flame. Emblem had a little duality rise as his visitor was not 'evil' in such a black and white setting. He took those that were dead to the afterlife.

''Necati ...Illuminari. It is thrilling to meet you. I would say it's an honor, albeit a grim one. My tomes and books of old tell me about you from time and time again. Mere encounters, vague descriptions, but an entity nevertheless. And in general considered extremely dangerous at all times. Many adaptions of your persona is found in a lot of temporal books, but you appear much more composed then many of those. A king is a King. Be it painted in white Crusader, or Black Gothic, both sides of the board are the same, and both counterparts move just the same. I believe that's not quite the issue, as I am but one man, and you are a spirit of death. The fact that you're here makes me wonder...I have no injury, I am not sick. You take the souls of the dead, so...am I about to die? Death, is it my time?''

Emblem asked because there would be something completely wrong with Necati coming to claim his soul. Not only was Emblem healthy enough, were he to die, he'd not go like most other humans. Assuming he would not have a big chance, Emblem would have to fight this one, literally fighting for his life. His soul belonged to others, not to a weaver of death. It was, sarcastically, something Emblem did not fear. Emblem's process of death had been quite a painful and emotional one. Your mind would race, you'd almost be surprised with the thought you could cook up in split seconds, as your body keeps sending in information about your state of being. How much pain you're in. Luckily for him, Emblem had not yet gone over the brink of death, out of the mortal realm. He knew one entity that would definitely await him there in any case...While Emblem moved his bishop across the field to line up with his opponent's knight, a sly smile formed on his face. He always had that in stock for him.

''Your turn.''

Emblem had heard Necati speak, and the growing unease in his stomach had come to bear fruit.

''For all your ancient knowledge, for all your knowledge I would hope to ever receive, for all you are...you sicken me, Necati. You have fallen to be a slave of your own element. You are not Death, but the boatsman that bring those who have perished to the afterlife. Charon, you shall receive no coin from me.''

Emblem sat up straight and looked at Necati with a somewhat vile look into his eyes, and a sneer just as bad. Surely he knew he would not be threatened, but Emblem's patience was dwindling due to what his visitor had said.

''Alyss come to me to reconcile with an old friend. She had read my file, knowing I was staying in here, and visited me to know why. She never thought I'd be in such a place. She told me about you. Told me about her plan to clean up Steel City. A valiant endeavor, and an almost impossible one.''

Emblem took the Chalice, and looked at it. Placing it next to him onthe bed, he looked at it. His tone changed, calmer. More like a fireplace then a backdraft, more much calm, and well weighed.

''You know how I eventually obtained this artifact? How I reacquired my sanity? It was my wife. My wife to be, who passed it on to my friends. It was the ultimate metaphor come to life. That which I had always searched for, was in reach. I just could not see what was right in front of me. The fact that she has long since perished changes nothing to that fact. I do not welcome death, but when I pass on to my tribe's afterlife, she will be waiting. It will be bittersweet, but more sweet then bitter. The fact that you offer me to return her to life, what is the only thing I would do with the gift you presented me, is more of a blasphemy to life, and an insult to her memory, then anything else. Vidina, the name she is known by to all of you, has died twice. All because of this dark, cold world. NEver again will she suffer the fickleness of the mortal realm.''

Emblem caressed the Chalice before putting it behind his back. He took a deep breath, then struck down Necati's black knight with a white pawn.

''You see pawns as nothing. Cold, unreal logic. Every life is one, every life is sacred. You have no right to think otherwise. My friends are those I fight for. Seeing you smug when recanting about this war, you remind me of some vile men of old. Those who thought war was best to obtain peace. The instrument of peace has never been misused more then by the voice of violence. We cannot hope to hear the songs of freedom when they are sung by the choirs of war and strife. Only when one is beyond saving, they are to be released from their earthly suffering. I shall not be one to do so, as I already crossed the line once. I would delegate such tasks to the Shaman that summoned Vidina from the afterlife, or the man I see as my best friend. Now..some time ago, I read of two deaths in the newspaper. One of them was a member of the Slivers. I can only take the Shaman and my best old friend went there. Your talk tells me you went there as well.''

...Do you like ruining people's lives, Charon?

Emblem looked at his greyhaired visitor, and back to the chessboard. Metaphorically, such a board would be a nice reference for some to use. Alas, the world was not as black and white as the tiles depicted. If black was death and white was life, or the other way around, Necati would be quite alone. If those two colors were good and evil, and there was nothing inbetween, then all would be so much easier. Drawing the line had become a real esoteric mindbreaking subject. Crossing lines was easy. Drawing one and sticking to it, not so much. Emblem had had such request before, and he would not cross his line again. He wondered why Necati thought he would try to purge the world in flames. It was Emblem's mindset when he had been possessed, when he had been evil. If anything, that would not be his mindset twice.