July was eating breakfast in one of the booths downstairs when Tom returned from the bar with some new intel. The smell of beer had only gone stale and the air was still smoky but it relaxed July enough to take his mind off his leg and the growing anxiety that he needed to get out of Bastille Point. Tom sat across from him. “There’s a garage on the other side of town run by a guy named Slate, supposedly he makes a little cash on the side smuggling people over borders, but spies mostly, into Royalist or Nazi territory, works for the Church.”
July shrugged. “Hopefully he’s not as committed as he sounds. I guess we have no choice but to trust him. That car’s our only way out of this dust-ball.”
“I’ll take care of Slate.” Tom stood up. “Stay here, see if you can find anything out about Noah.”
July spent the next ten minutes alone, he didn’t really want to talk to anyone, and no one was close enough for him to eavesdrop. Find out about Noah without asking too many questions. Can’t be too hard. A few more minutes passed, his food was all gone and he became self-conscious. Was it suspicious for a stranger to loiter here? He needed to look like he was doing something.
To his surprise and good luck, he spotted the word ‘chess’ written on a box within a cluttered corner shelf. Before he knew it, he was hobbling across the room to examine the box and pulled out an old chess set. He returned to his booth, set the board on the table and began lining the pieces up. “Care for a game?” he said to the first stranger to walk by.
“What’re the stakes?” the rowdy man asked.
July shrugged. He didn’t have much money to bet, and he needed it anyway, and he didn’t want to trade any more of his ammunition. “The satisfaction of winning,” he smiled. But the stranger laughed and walked on.
Fifteen minutes later a woman challenged him; she wore jeans and a flannel shirt and her hair was matted and sandy. She was good company for July, very pretty, but after several easily won games and no new information from her July suggested she leave.
A man took her place and he was distinctly handsome with dark locks of hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He dressed in white, and composed himself like a gentleman, sitting upright, holding his head high, his uncanny golden eyes meeting July’s gaze as if they were delving into his mind, and his smile coupled with that immaculate stare beyond any doubt issued a challenge unlike any July had ever faced before. The man filled him with wonder, intrigued him in a way he couldn’t quite understand, and July knew at first sight that the man’s presence here had a significance that was beyond mere chance. Or, he was a stranger who only fancied a game of chess.
“You play like it’s second nature,” said the man, as he collected his white chess pieces. “This should be quite a game.”
July gestured for him to begin. “By all means.”
The man moved the first pawn and the game commenced. After the first few moves he stroked his chin, moving each piece cautiously and decisively, and July couldn’t help but smile. Eventually the man raised his eyes and said, “You’re not from here are you?”
“What makes you say that?” July took a pawn using his knight.
“You’re too smart.”
July chuckled, waiting patiently for his turn. “I appreciate the compliment.” He noticed the bartender and several others in the room threateningly eying his new friend. “I think it’s safe to assume you’re not from here either.”
The man nodded, his eyes back to the game.
“Well, seeing as we’re both strangers,” said July, “Maybe you can tell me if you know what’s going on here.”
“It’s pretty obvious what’s going on. The Templars are getting ready for war, and not just some petty skirmish with the Nazis or the Raiders, actual war.” He scanned July’s face for some sign of alarm. “I imagine you’ve heard the transmissions.” He lowered his voice to almost a whisper. “The Royalists are moving and the Church is scared; they don’t know their time is coming to an end.”
“You don’t seem very sympathetic,” said July, also lowering his voice. “In fact, you sound almost certain about them.”
“And what about you,” the man curtly replied. “I don’t see you taking their side.”
July didn’t appreciate being judged in such a way. “I don’t take sides.”
But the man’s tone became firmer. “Something like this can’t be avoided, I thought someone like you would understand. The hottest places in Hell are reserved…”
July’s eyes widened. “For those who in times of moral crisis maintain their neutrality. Dante Alighieri, The Inferno.” He leaned forward. “Who are you?”
“My name’s Oliver. I’m… like you.”
July stared at him, waiting for some elaboration.
“We live in a desolate wasteland because our grandfathers started a war. Our entire history has been one big conflict of interest. It’s almost as if we as a collective are incapable of learning, but you and I both know that isn’t entirely true. People like Noah are stumbling around in the remains of dead ideologies, and that’s not what we need, we need to inflict change. People like you and me have the capacity to eradicate the sins of our fathers, so to speak. We need to get people thinking again.”
July’s mind flashed back to his little thought experiment on how he’d go about taking control of The Valley, but that was just a hypothetical thought. He still had the barely-started manuscript of The Deathly Quill in his backpack. He wondered why he really was compelled to write it if not to get people thinking again, like Oliver was suggesting.
“This sounds like an invitation,” July said, hoping that Oliver would read that he wasn’t interested in beginning some grand new social movement.
“Oh no,” he replied. “Just a thought.”
The chess game neared its end. July had been distracted by his interesting opponent for the earlier stages of the game, but realising that he had underestimated Oliver he now increased his efforts. They played in silence for some time as Oliver forced July to play defensively, but July was certain that he could still win, and sure enough the final plays fell into place. The game would soon end. A staring contest followed every move, one player reading another. July smiled confidently. Until, Oliver initiated a move that shed a new light upon the game. July scanned for some way out, but to his disbelief he would soon lose the game… or so he thought. When Oliver should have placed July in checkmate he instead created an opening for July to win the game.
Oliver stood up with a mocking smile. “Congratulations. That was the best game of chess I’ve ever played. I never got your name.”
“July,” he said though his teeth, still staring at the board.
Oliver glanced at Thomas, who returned and was waiting for the game to finish, and then back to July. “Well, it’s been a pleasure. ‘Till next time then.”
With those polite words the mysterious man who had swept like a storm into July’s life just as suddenly disappeared.
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