"Care for a game?" The old man looked up into a pair of bright blue eyes and flinched, lax hands dropping the black chess piece he'd been holding.
Charles?
But there was no response…of course, it couldn't be him. Charles was dead.
"I care for nothing much these days," he sighed wearily, but gestured for the young man to sit down nonetheless.
"Is something the matter?" the young man surveyed him curiously, those eyes so painfully like his, that Erik was forced to look away.
"I would think that obvious." His natural defence system kicked in, "I'm old and weary, but none of that is your concern."
"I thought it only polite to ask," the young man lent his elbows on the small table and fixed Erik with a gaze so intense it felt as if he was trying not simply to read his mind, but to become part of it. He couldn't help but watch for the tell-tale touching of the temple, disappointment acute when the man simply stared at him awaiting a response. He turned his gaze to the man's face, finally focusing on it, and realised he looked nothing like Charles. He was short, and had those startling blue eyes, but that was where the similarities ended.
"You thought wrong," he turned his attention back to the chessboard, rescuing the piece he'd dropped earlier, "Black or White?"
"White," the man said, something knowing in his eyes, "Tell me, why is it you always play black?"
"I believe it was you who selected white, it logically follows that I should play black." Erik pointed out, a little disturbed that this stranger had picked up on a habit he'd had since…since the first time he'd played chess with Charles. The set up – Erik black, Charles white – had just seemed right, they had always been opposites and it was no secret Erik had the darker past, was capable of darker things. It was prophetic, he mused eventually we did end up on opposite sides.
"I watched your last match; you were black then, as well." The man idly moved a pawn, seeming to put little thought into the action.
"It would seem I have acquired a stalker." Erik said mildly as he made his move, freeing a bishop for later action.
"I wouldn't call it stalking, per se." The younger man grinned as he again moved without apparent consideration.
Erik raised an eyebrow, "well, then did it not occur to you that my previous opponent may also have preferred white?"
"A possibility," the man admitted, "however one that does not disprove my previous hypothesis."
"So this match is purely a farce for you to pry into my affairs?" Erik captured a knight, wondering how long this match would last when his opponent seemed more interested in the conversation than the game.
"Perhaps," he smiled disarmingly, "I'm interested, you're interesting; where's the harm?"
"What is it that you find so interesting? I'm just an old man playing chess." He captured a bishop, moving his own into its place.
"If that is what you believe..." The man looked up, his eyes boring into Erik's own, "you are so much more than you know."
"Oh I've heard that before," he chuckled wistfully, again struck by how much this man reminded him of Charles in everything bar his looks "…from an old friend of mine."
"It must be true, then." The man captured his first piece; an errant knight Erik planned to sacrifice as a diversion.
"No. I am what I am, there's nothing more to it than that." He manoeuvred a pawn into position.
"I'm not sure what you mean."
"You idealists are all the same." Erik sighed; the world was impossibly full of them despite the fact that there was nothing to substantiate their claims. "You think you can see the good in everyone, and you search and search for it, but it never crosses your naïve minds that some people just don't have it in them." He shook his head, they never change. Charles was an idealist, look what the world had done to him.
"The world is black and white," he continued, "and at some point everyone must realise which side they are on. We cannot change who we are - no matter how hard we try."
"So you've answered my question after all." The man, surprisingly, didn't argue with him.
Erik raised an eyebrow as he moved his castle.
"You believe the world to be black and white?" The young man haphazardly moved a random piece, barely even glancing at the board, "You have chosen your side then, have you not?"
"I didn't choose" he said bitterly, "circumstances chose for me."
"I digress. One can choose their colour in chess, can they not? You made your choice, and now, to escape it, you believe there was none to begin with." There was no scorn in his words, but Erik bristled just the same.
"If there was ever a choice, it was taken away from me." He set the final piece in place, his strategy complete.
"There is always a choice," the man said calmly, "it cannot be taken away."
"You know not what you speak of." He felt his anger growing, what did this man know that he could judge him?
"I should like to." The earnest expression threw Erik, momentarily disarming him and he felt his anger dissipate.
"My past is not something I'm going to tell a perfect stranger."
"What if I win the match?" the man proposed, completely serious despite the ridiculousness, Erik thought, of the proposition.
"Impossible, I haven't lost since…a very long time." He sighed, all thoughts led to Charles. He'd been the only one to consistently beat Erik at chess in fact, he couldn't recall a time he'd ever actually won. The other man had always been one step ahead of him, and if he hadn't known Charles to be so damn scrupulous he'd have accused him of cheating.
"Then you've nothing to lose."
"And if I should win?"
"Then I'll quit bothering you and you'll never hear from me again." The man promised, a tiny smirk present on his face.
"I suppose you'll want to restart," Erik supposed he might as well accept the bet, he was confident he couldn't lose now, "seeing as I'm in the lead?"
"Not at all, I like a good challenge." He made the move he'd been stalling on for the past few minutes, opening up a small hole in Erik's plan.
Erik narrowed his eyes…had this man been playing him? Was this his angle all along? He watched his opposition closely, but his face gave nothing away bar the excessive confidence he appeared to have in his abilities.
The man caught his eye, "What if it were given to a man, to change his side?" It was stated casually, as if he'd simply asked him to field a guess at tomorrow's weather.
"Then he would be a lucky man, and rare." Erik replied cautiously, this man was more cunning than he first appeared. His intent, it seemed, was more than simple interest.
"And if you were given such a chance?" the younger man moved a piece.
Intrigued despite himself Erik indulged the man, curious to see the outcome, "to change a past decision?"
"No," the man chuckled, "I'm afraid it is given to no-one to change their past, what if you were given the chance to choose your own future."
"A useless gift," he said bitterly, "there is nothing left for me here. The past is all I take comfort in."
"You cannot live in the past; men waste their lives searching for answers that lie only ahead." He moved a piece that completely destroyed Erik's set-up.
"I suppose you would know, having lived less than two decades." He groused, worried for the first time that he may have underestimated his opponent severely.
"I'm older than I look…and check, I believe."
"Hmph." Erik was stunned; in less than ten moves this man had completely reversed the outcome of the game.
"...And Check mate." The man announced with a cheeky smile, "In about three moves, I think."
"Congratulations," Erik scowled, how had that happened? "You've beaten an old man at chess."
"You know what your problem is?" The man lent forward and chuckled, "You think far too much. Chess is about strategy, yes, but there's so much more to it. Sometimes you just have to go with your instincts, take the leap of faith, and trust yourself to land on your feet."
"You talk like him, you know? Idealistic, naïve, insufferable…he took everything they threw at him, the fear, the hatred, and still he protected them…died, protecting them. You wanted a story? Well here it is…"