“Check,” Namaril said, moving his Queen to take one of his opponent Kellan’s Pawn. He smirked, now looking at the frustration in the human’s eyes, knowing they had just entered the endgame, where Namaril was devastating.

It was a silent, starless night. They were both sitting in The Swarthy Mermaid in the village of Seronvia. They sat at a table by a large window in the front of the tavern. It gave them a view of the ocean along the coast of Tallania. It was pretty much empty because it was the Great Conjunction. However, the bartender served the two players and three other people drinking quietly.

Namaril was an elven priest. He had fierce, green eyes. His long, straight black hair fell over his shoulders, moving each time he turned his head to analyze the game. He wore beautiful elven chainmail, but his spiked mace was leaning against the wooden wall. At his chest, a pin in the symbol of a silver disc with a tree embellished on it shined against his armor. It was the symbol of Sirenia, the elven goddess of Love and Nature.

Kellan, on the other side, was a human fighter. He wore chainmail as well, but it looked much bulkier than Namaril’s armor. His skin had a tone of honey, and he had a shaved head with a short beard. His two long swords also leaned against the wall alongside Namaril’s mace, leaving them unarmed.

The fighter pondered over his next movement briefly and advanced with his King diagonally, taking a Pawn. Namaril responded with a threat to Kellan’s King yet again, this time with another Pawn.

“Check again.”

Kellan took the Pawn, as there was no immediate danger there. However, that put his King exactly where the elf wanted, moving his White Queen to the Black King’s diagonal.

“Should I repeat it?”

Kellan laughed, taking his King out of the way but immediately being followed by the White Queen in another check. He moved his King out of the way, and Namaril now couldn’t check him with his Queen, so they continued the game normally.

“It’s too quiet tonight,” the elf said. The only thing they both could hear were the ocean, toads, and night birds in the distance.

“Too dark, too,” the human agreed. “You’re not thinking about bandits, are you?”

The cleric looked up at him, lifting an eyebrow. He moved his Rook to defend his Queen.

“What is it this time? Evil spirits coming to hunt Elven priests?”

“Evil deities are as real as the good ones, Kellan.”

“I don’t think so.”

The elf captured his Queen and looked at him. They both stopped playing for a moment.

“And why is that?”

“Gods are myths. We created them to explain things we don’t understand yet.”

“Do we?”

“Well, yes.”

“Explain me demons, then. You know they come from hell.”

“And you know for a fact that demons lie all the time.”

“Still, have you taken a look at the world out there? How everything functions so perfectly? We can’t exist just for the sake of it. There’s a higher power, I’m certain.”

“In that case, what would be our purpose?”

“To serve the light, of course. This is a world of great evil.” Namaril lifted his hand, gesturing like some university teacher. “Sirenia gave us nature so that we could live from it, and love so that we could care for each other and this world. What do you think of our purpose?”

The bartender delicately put a mug of beer in front of Kellan. He took it into his hands, taking a good sip.

“We don’t have a purpose. Good and Evil are artificial concepts. Although they built our entire society, they’re still just concepts and not some eternal celestial war.”

The bartender now put a mug of Elven ale in front of Namaril. He grabbed it and took a sip as well.

“Thank you, dear,” he said to him and then turned back to Kellan. “That’s interesting. But how do you explain our creation?”

Kellan shrugged, took a sip, and then finally played his move. He captured the Bishop that had taken his Queen.

“I assume you’d like me to tell you about gods and magic.”

“Well, I would.”

“I don’t buy those. Still not sure why we exist, but certainly not cause some elder deity felt like creating life. We would be, too simple, you know? Why would they care to create us? Doesn’t make sense.”

“What doesn’t make sense,” and then he drank a large portion of his ale, taking a brief moment to belch, “Is not believing someone created us. You’ve seen magic the same way as I did, and you also know for a fact that my magic comes from a Goddess. You’ve seen it. Or do you call me a fraud?”

The elf smiled. The fighter couldn’t possibly come back from that. Namaril made his move, capturing one of Kellan’s Rooks with his Queen. Kellan smiled, and the game continued as usual.

“Damn, you almost sold me on that one. Sure, you do some fancy magic stuff, but it can’t possibly come from a Goddess. Why would someone so powerful look to someone like us? We’re too human.”

“You are,” he pointed, “Oh, and check.”

“Well, are you saying I couldn’t be a cleric? The Goddess of Love couldn’t possibly love a weak human like me?” They both laughed. They were still just friends chatting about religion, after all.

“Yes, you could,” said Namaril, recovering his air. “And I bet you’d be an amazing cleric if you tried to have some faith.”

“I envy you for believing so hard, but I’m sorry, I can’t. I can’t believe in gods and sea serpents coming to eat little children.”

“Oh, but the Sea Serpent won’t just eat little children, Kellan. Check, by the way.”

“That’s the story I heard as a kid.”

“That was the version your parents used to scare you when you would misbehave, of course. But the reality is far worse, I fear, as when the Great Conjunction comes, it’ll eat everyone, with no age, class, or race distinction. It’ll come first for small villages, just like this one.” He pointed everywhere around him. “It’s inevitable. We’ll need all help we can get from the gods when…”

And at this moment, someone approached them, a man coming from the other table.

“Hey! You two!” He spoke low, almost whispered, but in an alarmed tone. “Will you please be quiet? Your talking is making us nervous. It could attract evil things.”

Both the priest and the fighter looked at him. Namaril knew that the Great Conjunction brought many superstitions to light. Not all of them good. On a day of eternal night, most were terrible.

“Yeah, sure,” Kellan said, signing for him to go away.

“That’s rude,” Namaril said, as soon as the man was far enough.

“Well, he annoyed me.”

They now whispered to each other.

“But he’s partially right. If something were to happen, it’d be tonight. It’s dark and quiet, just the way the spirits like.”

“If it happens,” Kellan responded, nodding in their weapons’ direction. “We’re pretty set up to face it.”

“I assume we are, my friend.” He took another long sip of his ale and moved his Queen. “Check.”

Kellan defended with his Pawn, which he then realized was a huge mistake. It was captured, and soon enough, he lost his last Rook as well. He made a few moves trying to escape. He even managed to take a Pawn himself, but Namaril had the undeniable advantage. He was ultimately surrounded by the White Queen, which was defended by a Pawn.

“Checkmate, friend,” the elf said. Kellan studied the board for a few moments, confirming he had no way out.

“I guess that’s a loss, then.”

He smiled, appreciating a great game of Chess.

“You cheated, though. You’re centuries older than I am!”

“And I’ll still be when you’re gone, unfortunately.”

Namaril looked into Kellan’s human eyes. He wondered how humans dealt with such a short life. They burned brightly but for such a brief period, then snuffed out into the darkness.

“I couldn’t live such a brief life with no kind of faith. It would help if you considered joining me at the temple at least once. Perhaps Sirena will touch you.”

“She won’t, Namaril. I’m afraid she’s most likely not real.”

“It’s worth a shot, anyway.”

The cleric now moved his hand towards the enemy King, dropping it on the board.

“I w…”

He was interrupted mid-sentence. They both jumped on their chairs when a powerful screeching came from afar. It sounded old, rusty, overflowed with hatred.

Suddenly, the surrounding air went cold. They looked around, searching for enemies, but there was no one there. The bartender and the other people in the tavern looked as lost and scared as the two friends, searching for danger.

And then another scream. This time, they localized it. Somewhere in the ocean, something evil stirred. Namaril shivered and looked to Kellan, who also rubbed his arms nervously.

“Do you see anything?” Namaril said, gazing in the direction of the sea.”

“I can’t see anything. It’s the Great Conjunction. Only a powerful wizard are psion could see what’s out there.” Kellan also looked out the window, his gaze far away.

“Me neither.”

The evil that awakened in the ocean reached out to Namaril’s soul. It lurked, waiting for the time to strike. It screeched in what Namaril hoped wasn’t hunger. He glanced at Kellan, who turned toward him and raised an eyebrow.

“Namaril, my friend, it seems your stories of monsters have come to pay us a visit.”

Namaril grabbed his mace as the remaining patron ran out the door. Kellan gripped a blade in each hand as an otherworldly roar echoed into the tar that was night. “Kellan, it looks like we are needed here after all.”

Kellan nodded, and out in the ocean, it had heard them too.

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