The God's Game

Sunroom

The Sunroom of Arcton was nestled in the heart of the palace, strategically constructed to receive an abundance of natural light during the day.

One of its walls was crafted from shimmering planes of glass. Light filtered through these ceiling high windows from dawn to dusk, bathing the chamber in delightful warmth.

Thickly draped walls muffled the footfall of marching troops and scurrying maids outside, making it a sanctuary of peace and tranquility. It welcomes anyone with its soft ambience – inviting them to unwind and bask in the sunlight.

Facing the panoramic view beyond the glass wall was an ornate, hand-carved wooden bench and a short side table. Simple yet opulent, these tasteful pieces of furniture added a touch of elegance to the Sunroom. The floor was adorned with intricately patterned marble, complete with a plush, elegant white rug that provided warmth and comfort underfoot.

A fragrant cluster of River Blues sat on the table, arranged neatly in a ceramic vase. Mellow sunlight gently kissed their soft, vibrant petals. It seemed as if the sun itself was enticed by their unrivaled beauty and the intoxicating perfume that permeated the air inside.

Seated on the bench, Lucian Verlice seemed engrossed in something, his spine as straight as a brush and shoulders held back. Golden embroidery adorned his pristine white suit, sparkling under the sunlight and enveloping him in an aura of regalness.

Subtle wrinkles at the corners of his keen black eyes and streaks of gray in his hair spoke of a man who had gracefully weathered the passage of time. His gaze, cold and haughty, commanded respect from all who stood before him.

Pale lips pressed in a firm line; he regarded the fine, checkered board on the table in front of him.

Lucian Verlice traced the scratches on the dilapidated board, the sole remnants of a bygone era. The well used black surface and its fading white grid stood testament to the countless tactical battles it had witnessed over the years. He arranged the wooden pawns in two neat arrays, on opposite factions- the process almost a muscle memory to him.

He brought the Archer in his clasp closer to his face, inspecting it.

This one had the same standard design as the rest of the hollow pawns- two inches tall with a slightly wider base. It was marked with an arrowhead, depicting its role in the game.

King, General, Archer, Wizard, Dragon, and Soldier.

He turned it upside down, scrutinizing the tiny, round hole on  the base. Closing his left eye, he looked through it, albeit with difficulty.

He knew this was futile; the inside of a pawn was too dark to see anything. Yet he strained his eye, trying to see if the tiny golden ball was inside it. Giving up, he shook the Archer into his cupped palm one last time, like a tiny saltshaker.

Nothing.

His brows creased as he reluctantly placed the Archer back on the board, feeling the smooth surface of the worn wood under his fingertips. With a soft "tak" sound, the piece settled into its designated spot.

He was looking for the keystone inside each piece for the past half an hour, with no avail. It was nowhere in the sunroom, either. It seemed the pinhead sized ball was lost to the world forever, again.

Despite it being the most crucial element of the gameplay, it was the easiest to go missing, too. If you take your eyes off the small golden ball, even for a second, it will roll off to only- God -knows -where.

How many keystones had he lost over the years? Possibly over a hundred. It had a divine power to disappear when he was desperately searching for it, only to reappear when he was too busy to play.