F o o l i s h n e s s
// v a n i l l a //
{This isn't finished so... }
Chapter 1
The First Move
Chapter 1
The First Move
“There is a reason why Pawns only can move forward, it is because if they move back they would kill their king in a heartbeat.”
“And then what happened,” The pale grey eyes stared back at the church caretaker, whose eyes only seemed to brighten for only the illustrator's drawings from her worn down book, which were far more innocent than the old tale’s reality, “What happened Mother Dawn, after the Black and White Kingdoms fought?”
“Well, then they realized that they couldn’t fight forever, as you do with your fellow brothers and sisters, honestly, the only kings that I see are the kings of children,”
“Mother Dawn!” One of the passing Sisters, came across the doors, “Don’t speak badly our White King.”
“Don’t worry, they won’t come by and hurt an old crow like me, those kids aren’t that petty,” A wink going to the Sister who simply sighed in resignation and went off her way, holding the twine basket of clothes for young and old.
A hushed tone came from the grey-emyed child, “And then?”
“Well then they split the world in two, Child. Into the realm of Black and the realm of White,”
“And…”
The old crone gave a small laugh at the curiosity of a child, “Well, that part isn’t in the story just yet.” Her wrinkled hands mutely closing the book in her lap, “But, I’ll let you in on a secret,” Dawn’s worn face looked youthful for a brief moment in childishness, pressing her finger against her lips. Leaning close to the child, “Don’t tell the other Sisters or the children, Brenin, they think I am going a little, loo-loo,” Her tongue sticking out as she twirled her fingers in the air, giving the expected reaction when the child suppressed a laugh, “I think what is going to happen is another war, and god forbid I am going to see it,”
“Another war? Between the Black and White Kingdoms?” The gray child asked.
“Maybe, Maybe not, Maybe something else entirely, but that is enough political discussion for a young child like you, if I keep speaking today I’m going to be nagged for not letting you sleep.” Dawn rising from her seat, taking the cane at her side. Ti-tip-top, the cane knocked on the wood below in the dim candle-lit room, “Goodnight Brenin,”
“Goodnight Mother Dawn!” Brenin said as the candles were blown out with a clap and the squeaky shutting of a door.
In a hushed whisper tones the Sisters were gossiping about the boy behind the wooden door, “The Old Croon obviously favors him,”
“Probably just as loony as she.”
“My face may be old, but my ears are still sharp,” The voice interrupting their conversation.
