For months, we have planned this attack. Camp has been set. We must
take the enemy quickly and hold casualties at a minimum. The enemy
expects us to strike from the east, so we shall strike from the west.
This will be a bloodbath of intelligence. We are an empire of a mere
sixteen, but we are not outnumbered.

I must have faith. Faith in myself, in my God, in my comrades, and
in my Lord. I am but a mere a pawn. Notwithstanding, I serve the King.
There are seven more of me, but we are not outnumbered.

We shall march with honour. March or die. One of our two knights has
advanced queenside. We are not outnumbered. The black empire has
followed suit. One of our pawns has begun advancing queenside.

Can I succeed? I shall. I must succeed. For the sake of my Lord, I must.

A black pawn has advanced kingside, silent, skulking, careful. One
of our bishops has advanced queenside, the only possible route. We are
not outnumbered. If good fortune is not yet captured, not a black
soldier took notice. The already advancing black knight has stolen
onto the west. The heavy hooves of the armoured horse force the
blackened earth to tremble beneath. With anger, the wind blew. It gave
wings to his stallion, cloaked in shadow. A fellow pawn advances,
intent on establishing his permanency in the glade. It is difficult.
Upon his advance, the already approaching black knight rushed in. The
knight has angered me. However, I cannot allow my sentiments to rob me
of my eyes. To do so would ensure my downfall. The battle continues in
the stone glade, already crimson-stained. We are outnumbered.

Can I succeed? I shall. I must succeed. For the sake of my Lord, I must.

Our westernmost pawn has advanced. By his sword, he approached the
black knight. His sword failed him by half a centimetre. Such a
distance may never have been so vast. The black knight quickly evaded
the young pawn. Another shining pawn has advanced kingside. The black
empire has followed suit. We are outnumbered.

Can I succeed? I shall. I must succeed. For the sake of my Lord, I must.

A shining pawn has advanced. Despite his best attempts at silence, a
slip of his wrist induced a sharp clang between his sword and his
armour. A black bishop approached him by his toothed, edged sceptre of
obsidian. We are outnumbered.

Can I succeed? I shall. I must succeed. For the sake of my Lord, I
must. We are outnumbered. I must advance, advance to establish my
permanency. We are outnumbered.

In a flash of intuition, a gleaming bishop advanced queenside upon
the watchtower. The glade is littered with fragments of the black
empire. The enemy could do nothing but watch in shock, with a tinge of
horror. In a panic, one of the pawns, robed in twilight, fled into the
glade. Soon, gleaming with the knowledge of our sudden advantage, her
majesty extinguished the forlorn pawn with little difficulty. We are
not outnumbered. The wind, pregnant with the odour of rotting flesh,
ceased its respiration. A black knight, hitherto hidden in open space,
advanced, taking her majesty by surprise. We are outnumbered.

I shall defend her majesty's honour! No man may ever possess an
advantage over her! In the name of my Lord, I shall advance!

My brothers, soldiers clad in armour of marble, skulk at my advance.
It is too late. A bishop saw my coming and, with his toothed, edged
sceptre of obsidian, approached me. Alas, my Lord, for I have failed
you.

What shall become of me? The clouds are beautiful. Brothers, march
on and continue the struggle. Remember and execute the cry: Death to
the Black Monarch!

05/24/2005

Author's Note: another experiment I wrote in early high school in all its wholesome prosy goodness

Posted on 05/25/2005
Copyright © 2024 Kourosh Taheri-Golvarzi