Tucker stared at the countless mist hawks flying over the keep with a heavy heart. Messages were constantly being sent in and out of the premises at a rate he had never seen before. He could tell that the situation at the front lines was far more grave than expected and hundreds of lives were being lost each day.

  If he had been a knight, would he have been able to save more lives?

  That single question shook him to his core. Would it have made a difference, or would he have been just as useless?

  The missions he’s been on have done nothing except show him how much of a liability he had been. If he had numbed his heart, maybe that would have made it all the easier to stomach the views his comrades had, but such a thing wasn’t possible. He couldn’t see eye to eye with them, and that was a reality he had to accept.

  He couldn’t protect the last shred of hope he had in his heroes. So what was there to being a watchman? What reason did he have to want to be a ranger? Tucker tightly clenched his fists while moving through the corridor. The light from the magic lanterns illuminated his face as his muffled steps echoed through the halls. Yet, as he passed by the main area of the Keep, Tucker caught a glimpse of several figures gathered around the teleportation device. Surrounding a casket with ember-like engravings on the very surface of the polished surface.

  The sound of quiet sobbing—fragile, broken, each uneven breath barely escaping trembling lips. Tears were slipping down their cheeks, desperately clinging onto the last bit of composure left in their hearts and seeing this… Tucker couldn’t help but feel his heart plummet. Their comrades were falling one after another—people Tucker had stood beside, shared meals with, exchanged stories with. And now, they were gone.

  “That could have been us.”

  The voice drew Tucker’s gaze. He turned to find Blaire standing beside him. “I don’t suppose you’re here to just chat,” Tucker said.

  “No, I’m not. I’ll keep this short, so come with me.” Blaire waved at Tucker to follow. “We’ll head over to the second floor and talk there.”

  Tucker nodded, following several feet behind Blaire as they stepped on the stone steps leading to the second floor. He glanced at the watchmen gathered on the first floor as they all paid their respects to the deceased. Each one placing their hand on the surface one after another and saying a few words of prayer before leaving.

  “Your punishment has been decided.” Blaire stopped and turned to Tucker. “Your records are now under what we call a scarlet seal.”

  “And what exactly is that?” Tucker asked.

  “It means that from now on, the Order won’t acknowledge your achievements. Once you die, everything you’ve done will be gone, and no records left behind.”

  Tucker froze when he heard this. His eyes met Blaire’s cold gaze and his stomach twisted. The weight of it suffocated him yet all he could do was nod. It was understandable, since what he did was close to treason. He had defied an order from his superior and even threatened to draw his sword against him, which was an act that couldn’t easily be defended.

  “Is that all?” Tucker asked.

  “I suppose so.” Blaire shrugged his shoulders. “There is some other news but I believe it’s best that Salamander delivers it.”

  Tucker watched as Owl nodded, completing his task. The veteran’s gaze fell onto the teleportation platform and soon trailed back to the rookie.

  ”What happened in the previous mission will be kept under wraps,” Blaire said. “There’s no need for everyone to know of the stunt you pulled and after seeing this sight before you. Can you really try the same shit you pulled before?”

  The rookie closed his eyes and slowly exhaled. “I don’t know, maybe not. It depends on what I know of the situation.”

  Blaire shook his head before catching a glimpse of a marble board with several stone pieces arranged on the surface. Each piece resting on alternating black-and-white tiles that formed an eight by eight grid. “Have you ever played chess before?”

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  “I’ve only played a bit, but when I was still in the academy, why?”

  “Because Salamander wants us to get along, so if I have to talk to you. I might as well do it over something I enjoy.”

  Tucker did his best to conceal his displeasure but reluctantly caved in. His mentor did say that things would have played out differently if he had made an attempt to talk to Blaire but with the coldhearted nature of the veteran clashing against his. He didn’t believe it a single bit. Yet here they were, seated at the table with a board game in front of them.

  With one hand, Blaire picked up the white pawn on his queen’s side and moved it two spaces up from the bishop. “Do you know why I don’t like you?”

  “No, I don’t so why don’t you enlighten me,” Tucker replied, moving the black pawn two spaces up from his king.

  “It’s because you don’t have an ounce of respect for your seniors. Constantly arguing and debating about every move. Every notion.” Blaire moved his knight from B2 to B3. “And it makes me wonder why? Why argue over such pointless things?”

  “Would you say that little girl’s life was pointless?” Tucker asked, moving his knight from G8 to F6.

  “In the grand scheme of things, yes.” Blaire moved his other knight forward. “When you see the caskets on the platform, would you say their lives are worth more or less to that girls?”

  Tucker remained silent and mimicked Blaire’s move. He knew that the lives that were lost today meant more to him than that little girl’s, but it was easier to think of such things after and not in the heat of the moment.

  “Your silence is enough of an answer, so why? Why put yourself in such an awful position?” Blaire continued to develop his board, with Tucker moving in response. “I can see that you’re a smart kid, but to see you do the dumb shit you did today? It’s fucking unbelievable.”

  “So what should I have done, then? Just stand aside and do nothing?” Tucker asked.

  “Yes, because we’re just doing what we needed to do.”

  Tucker’s voice grew quiet. “Even if it means killing more children?”

  Blaire took a deep breath and leaned against the wooden chair. After a moment, he slowly nodded. “If it means we win the war.”

  Tucker couldn’t hide his disbelief. “Don’t you see how wrong this sounds?”

  “It doesn’t matter if it sounds wrong. What matters is the result.” Blaire traded his knight with Tucker’s bishop and then captured a pawn. “If it lets us win more battles and tilt the odds in our favour, then it’s a sacrifice we have to make.”

  “A sacrifice? That’s what you want to call it?” Tucker quietly scoffed and moved his queen diagonally of Blaire’s king, capturing the pawn protecting it.

  Blaire stared at the board his king was on G1 and Tucker’s queen had captured the pawn on H2. Tucker’s knights controlled the center of the board, his lone bishop watching on the dark tiles. Nothing was protecting his queen and without a moment's hesitation, Blaire captured Tucker’s queen with his king. A grin surfaced on the veteran's face upon the decisive move. Yet when he examined Tucker's expression, he knew something was wrong—slowly unearthing a sequence of moves orchestrated by Tucker—Knight from E5 to F3, performing a double check with the bishop on D6.

  Owl’s eyes narrowed. If he moved back a single space, the double knights would checkmate him. The only option was forward, and so he moved his king to H3. Only for Tucker to respond with a knight from E4 to G5, forcing Blaire to move his king to G4. Yet Tucker’s pawn advanced from H7 to H5, checking Blaire’s king again and forcing him to move to F5.

  The veteran stared at the board, recognizing he had lost. Each move from this point on was predetermined and forced. Pawn to G6, force check once more. Leaving him with only king to F6. Then black bishop to E7, checking his king once more and pushing him to G7. Finally, with Tucker moving his rookie to H7, protected by the knight, it was soon checkmate with his king falling onto G8. The only safe space that was left, only to be broken by the long castle from Tucker who swapped his king and rook’s position. Without saying a word, Blaire knew that it was checkmate.

  “I know what it means to sacrifice pieces in order to gain victory, but let me ask you this Blaire.” Tucker looked up from the board. “How many pieces do you plan to sacrifice until you achieve your so-called victory? Just like in chess, there’s a limited amount of pieces on the board and you can only get so far.”

  For once, Blaire was at a loss for words, but before he could say a word. A figure caught his attention. Salamander was standing to the side, watching their little game unfold with a smirk.

  “I see Tucker has bested you, Blaire,” Alex said.

  Blaire examined the board and then stared at Tucker, who seemed unfazed by his victory. Instead, all he saw was a cold glare in his eyes. “It happens from time to time. Are you here for the rookie?”

  “That’s correct. Did you already tell him about the seal?” Alex asked.

  ”I did.”

  “Then, in that case, I doubt there’s anything else you need him for.”

  “Feel free to take him.” Blaire watched as Alex nodded. Soon, both of them left the second floor, leaving him to his devices.

  Look at the chess board, it all went wrong when Blaire took the queen. That was the catalyst to his loss. Tucker had sacrificed his queen in order to win and from the game it was clear that such a thing wasn’t a foreign concept. Yet when it came to life, that concept was viewed in a completely different regard. The queen was the most valued piece, besides the king. So was it because Tucker only believed that it was worth sacrificing those with value or was it something else completely? Only time would tell.