King to C8

King to C8.

 

“Ah. Castling. Nice.”

 

They’d been at this for years. Both had been fairly decent at chess in the start – and even now, they would tell you they were only just decent for whatever reasons. In reality though, they were masterminds. They slept chess, dreamed chess, breathed chess and even ate chess. It was their sustenance not the food that now tasted like ash.

 

They would make great and terrible politicians. For their pieces were people, the ground their board. Woe be to the world if either took up the trade.

 

They had played countless, seemingly endless games. And even though their bodies were decaying with the sins of age, their minds were getting stronger and smart.

 

Pawn to A1. Promotion to Queen.

 

Check.