The Balinor Chronicles: The Celestial Herd
Chapter Forty-Nine: Interludus Primus
If the Unicorns were surprised at the existence of other worlds, one could bet they would be stunned beyond all belief to discover that they were but a snow globe on the Supreme Ruler's desk.
The Desk in question was quite cluttered. The blotter was all doodled on, and someone had used a blue pencil to turn all the numbers into eights. Numerous sums had been calculated next to notes about creating worlds. He had been falling behind terribly lately. An 1/8 full (or 7/8 empty) glass of water was sweating furiously and was creating a puddle that soaked through the next four months (Rain was a pretty safe bet on the first, second, eighth, and ninth of July; the fifth, sixth, twelfth and thirteenth of August; the second, third, ninth, and tenth of September; and the first, seventh, and eighth of October.).
Assorted pictures littered to desktop, including one of six stallions; one of a white mare, a lanky man, and a being lost in thought; and one, in an ornate frame, of two quite handsome, similar looking young men.
One of these men is slumped over the Desk, long legs sprawling underneath, feet playing with the trash bucket. He's resting his head on a hand and appears to be quite tired.
Very abruptly, he stands up, sending the garbage can flying into the wall and almost knocking over his mahogany chair. He grins at the man standing in the doorway.
"I's expectin' you."
"I reckons you just say that cus' I've a-caught you off-guard."
The deskman smiles. "Well, what are you wanting here?"
The intruder doesn't reply. Instead, he walks over to the window. The window itself seems to be made of liquid glass or solid water and beyond the moon-and-stars window clings; you can see a distant valley where the Unicorns from the rainbow battle the Unicorns of dusk.
"If we let 'em continue," the intruder says, "they will destroy this world. Then the next. 'N the next, 'til nothing is left, 'n we have to start all over again." The Intruder lets this sink in before continuing. "I've invested too much in this world ta let that happen."
The Deskman just smiles again. "You jus' don't want yer only ally to be a dead ally."
"You didn't make the Igdrasil. The next ones might favor me."
The Intruder has played his last card, knowing as well as the Deskman that the Deskman cannot allow that chance to take place. Just one favoring the Intruder is awful enough, but two, or maybe…just maybe… even three? The end result is inconceivable to the Deskman and he knows that he must listen to the Intruder.
"So, what do you wan' to do 'bout it?" The Deskman inquires.
"We could cast dice for the victor."
The Deskman snorts with laughter. "I'd never play dice with you. One wrong cast and I'd lose everything. 'Sides which, you load 'em with lead," He adds as an afterthought.
The Intruder looks slightly taken aback. "What do you propose then?"
"Chess. A game of patience and strategy and –"
"That'd take too long. We must know the victor now…." The Intruder grins broadly at the Deskman, revealing shiny pointed teeth.
The Deskman's mind is racing. The Intruder is right again, probably for the first two times in his very long life; the battle must be stopped and must be stopped now. But the dice are too chancy. Unless….
"What about both?" The Deskman proposes, "Cast dice for the pieces, using my dice, of course, and then play?"
The Intruder measures his odds of changing the Deskman's mind.
"Both sound good."
lets cast dice said the devil to i
in hopes that we may someday try
to regain the world we lost
without paying the highest cost
lets play chess said i to he
a game of chance just cannot be
to risk a lot and lose it all
as into hell the heavens fall
a little of each we both agreed
a game of chance with skill to need
we cast the dice for every piece
then play the game until its cease