Chapter 35 - The North Star’s Two Peaks

A freaking board game? That is your so vaunted game of life? A game of stones?

As a member of the elite in one of the world’s military superpowers, of course Colonel Zhao recognized the flat square board resting upon the table with its many distinctive stones resting next to it. His class had studied the game for an insufferably long time as part of the regular curriculum for all officers under training, as a well-recognized standard to develop tactical acumen and strategic vision.

As such, Zhao unconsciously found himself drawn into the old familiar routine when the insane man in front of him began to lay down the flat, round stones in a complex pattern upon the board.

They had used many such exercises in order to analyze different scenarios upon the field of battle. Stones would be laid out in a specific pattern that to the trained eye would instantly draw a mental map of the intended historical battle. Infantry, artillery, recognizance units and all such would slowly flesh out into the living, breathing entities which every battle eventually evolved into.

The expert eye would be able to instantly analyze not only every last minute detail of the forces at play upon the field, but also draw out a mental after-image - what expert players referred to as a “ghost” - of what had led to the present condition of the board. Moves and countermoves would be fully fleshed out within the mind as the stones told their story.

Stones do not lie, after all. It is merely the players who do.

However, a deep frown creased Zhao’s forehead as he endeavored to take in the massive array of stones smoothly being laid out by the man. Though intricate, the formations laid upon the board were simple enough to the trained eye, comfortably within the scope of his ability to read and appreciate. However, Zhao found that he was absolutely unable to find a single trace of this particular scenario’s ghost.

The two sides had entered deep into the endgame of this particular battle. The stones offered a massive advantage to the white player, and by all accounts the match was all but over. However, there was an incongruency to the formation of the stones in both players’ sides that simply baffled him.

Here and there, Zhao could see brief glimmers of genius, of ferocious battles where mighty wills had collided and great skirmishes had been fought out. These, however, were all but drowned out by the confusing layout of the stones that followed any such encounters, to the point where his hand rose of its own volition to knead his temples.

Just as Zhao was deliberating whether it was truly worth delaying his inevitable murder of this insane man just in order to obtain the answer to this confounding quandary, quiet words finally broke the silence.

“I had a son, once.” he man said in a low, almost hoarse tone, as though each word pained him greatly and was the result of a great struggle. However, as he continued the words seemed to gain momentum, gradually gaining a faint yet definite wistful air, filled with great yearning.

“I loved him dearly, and though as a general I’d achieved some renown, I knew myself to be a great failure as a husband and a father.”

Clak, Takk, the stones kept filling the board, in ever increasing complexity, yet the man’s fingers showed not the slightest hint of hesitation. It was as though he’d already gone through this same ritual countless times.

“His mother, a woman I never truly deserved, passed from this mortal coil while I was in a land far way, campaigning in a war for the vainglory of a fading emperor’s sun. By the time I finally recovered my senses, my boy was nearly a man, and I knew then that I would never fully come to know my own son.”

A deep breath, then the man continued.

“He excelled in many pursuits, and yet blood does not lie. Eventually, and against my wishes, he joined the military and swiftly rose up the ranks like a bright meteor streaking across the sky. By the time I was finally allowed to retire, my son had fully become my second incarnation, every inch the hero and general I had once vainly aspired to become.”

The slightest of tremors shook the stone that paused in the air above the board for a single instant too long, but then the man’s fingers tightened their grip and the stone found its rightful place upon the stage.

“Of course, fate is the eternal trickster and plays all mortals for fools. As my son began to wander ever farther from home, his victories became legion, and his foes came to dread the very mention of the North Star.”

Zhao abruptly tore his eyes from the board to stare in mute astonishment at the man before him. This insane man was claiming to be the father of the notorious North Star? His very name had resounded across the heavens and shaken the earth, for he was known as a general of unfathomable abilities who had never tasted the bitter ashes of defeat before that one tragic final campaign. The mere mention of his name had been enough to cause cities to capitulate and nations to kneel!

“This game, I taught it to my boy when he were a tiny lad,” the man continued, oblivious to Zhao’s thunderstruck stare. “Daily we would play, as at first I sought to teach him the utter foolishness of war, the sheer savagery and desolation. The Game of Life, my own sire had called it, yet I mocked such a name, and instead taught him to call it the Game of Death, for truly that was its purest essence. To seek the death of your adversary, even if it meant your own demise.”

“I’m an army man, as was my father before me, and his father before my time, and so on. Words came hard to me, but the Game of Death, that was a familiar and even intimate ritual. For truly, the stones never lie, and though the players may attempt to obfuscate the truth, in the end that same truth always lies in wait for the plunder. Thus, it was through this daily ritual that this father and son first truly spoke.”

“Even as the famed North Star, unless my boy were away on campaign, we would never neglect this daily ritual. Eventually the emperor grew old and feeble, and whether by man’s nefarious artifices or the vagaries of fate, in a short time he lay dead. Even as an untested princeling arose as emperor, and our land torn was apart by civil war, still we played the Game of Death.”

Zhao, as any other military man of his era, was of course aware of all the details the man before him was omitting. Indeed, the North Star’s home empire had been shaken by the sudden death of the late Emperor, followed by the upheaval of a full civil war. However, immediately prior to such tragic events, rich veins of Kadmite Ore had been found in that relatively small and peaceful country. It could be said that it was this event had been the true tragedy which had ushered in an era of countless deaths and suffering.

Kadmite Ore was an extremely rare deep earth material that was a key component in modern fusion reactors. Even leaving aside its civilian applications as an unmatched energy source, its military applications were even more staggering. Nations far greater than the North Star’s relatively insignificant land had risen and fallen riding on the bloody tides that followed the mere mention of Kadmite.

In fact, hadn’t Kadmite been the main reason behind the eventual downfall of the North Star? Zhao swallowed hard as he refocused his eyes to stare unblinkingly at the man before him, who seemed to have aged by decades in these brief moments.

“The first and final breach in this daily ritual came soon after the new emperor’s decision to avoid a fight against the secessionists. Though the capital lay in our hands, the rebel faction had, with the aid of a much greater outside power, consolidated its regime over 80% of the empire in a matter of weeks. Though most of the military constantly urged for all out war, our forces were dwarfed by the coalition of the rebels and their outside patrons.”

“Of course, my son was the most vocal of supporters for the war. Deep inside, I knew him to be right, for the new emperor’s hesitation to spill blood and throw all the fates of the empire upon the crucible of war was merely sealing our eventual doom. However, I was ultimately loyal to the emperor, and my honor would not allow me go against the wishes of the empire, no matter how misguided. Besides, I had grown old and tired of war, and had little desire to see my son sacrifice his life in a hopeless crusade.”

“For only the second time in his life, my son openly opposed me, and the first heartfelt words father and son exchanged were not those of filial affection, but rather the heated, embittered strokes of two generals fighting two equally destructive campaigns.”

“I find it ironic that it was war that brought us together, and war which eventually broke us apart.”

“Soon thereafter, and as you likely well know, my son eventually led a suicidal pre-emptive strike against the heart of the rebel forces. He lost his life upon that first great engagement that broke his own army in half, leaving one of every two men a broken puppet wholly devoid of life deep within the enemy’s territory.”

“Wait, the North Star did taste his first bitter defeat at the Rebel capital, but the long campaign that followed immediately after was one of the most brilliant and savage epics of military history!” Zhao cried out in protest, then he sucked in a hissed breath as sudden realization hit him like a bolt of lightning and he stared in terrified wonderment at the man before him.

“Y.. you.. It was you!” Zhao finally managed between chattering teeth.

A bitter smile, one completely absent of humor, flashed across the man’s lips.

“Indeed, it was me. I led the North Star’s army in the infamous Retreat of Gehenna.”

Clakk! Tackk!

Stones continued to fall upon the board without a pause while Zhao’s pulse thundered so loudly in his ears that for a moment he could hear nothing but the frenetic hammering of his heart.

Of course! This whole bloody campaign, the helpless horror as he engaged in a pursuit which bled his entire army not only of their life and blood, but of their very wills. How many men had this mad genius wielded against his own staggeringly superior numbers? Perhaps 20,000? 15,000? Against his own forces of over 100,000 men? For surely the meager casualties they had been able to inflict had been more a product of sheer luck and inevitable momentum than any hint of tactical superiority or even strategic parity!

Breath came in ragged gasps as he stared in horror at this demon made flesh sitting before him, nonchalantly continuing to lay down stone after stone upon the board.

Clackk!

Many years ago..

Clackk!

“General,” came the firm call from over his shoulder.

Tackk!

“General. Sir,” the voice repeated, in a tone heavy with deference and respect even though it seemed to radiate an irrepressible natural aura of power and authority.

Clakk!

“F.. father,” called out the voice once more, though it shook slightly and seemed unsteady for the first time, as though traversing uneven ground for the first time.

The hands of the man who had been methodically laying down stone after stone upon the rich marble board lying upon the table in the middle of the room finally came to a pause, freezing on the air.

“Father. I know I have deeply displeased you, and though it grieves my spirit I feel no shame in the act. Two great peaks have dominated the firmament as the North Star soared, sire. One ever behind me, supporting me and granting me strength and guidance. And a new peak, one which arose in the distant horizon yet looms larger by the moment.”

The older man’s brow furrowed for an instant as an inquisitive glint flashed in his eyes. It was truly uncharacteristic for his son to wax eloquent for so long, particularly during this period in which father and son had hardly exchanged a single word without engaging in bitter arguments.

“I truly consider it my utmost honor and joy to have not only shared an era with such titans, but to have been offered a hand in honest entreaty by both. Though it grieves me heavily, I will not be able to grasp either hand, and must instead strike out on my own. God willing, in the end we shall all meet on the same road.”

An expectant silence filled the room, during which many words were summoned yet banished before seeing their making.

Finally, as though acknowledging an already established fact, the faintest of sighs could be detected whispering against the stolid back of the father’s figure.

“I.. how words fail me at the moment, as they always have.” The voice continued but the words became fainter and weaker, until it seemed they would fade into nothingness. “I.. I wish, but how foolish wishes are. I will disturb you no longer with my uncouth words, sir. Instead.. Instead, I request a final boon of you. A more move in the Game of Life, in my.. In our hall. One final move.”

A deep, shuddering breath was drawn, then slowly exhaled.

“Thank you, father.”

Receding footsteps echoed loudly across the room, without a hint of the hesitation or even frailty of the moment that had just passed.

Clackk!

***

“Stubborn old mule that I was, only too late did I finally deign to comply with my son’s last request. What I discovered is the board you find before you, Colonel Zhao. These were my boy’s final words to his father before rushing to his death.”

Zhao stared in utter bewilderment at the board before him as the man before him laid one final stone, and at last came to rest. He could not make heads or tails of the insane storm of stones that seemed simple at a casual glance, yet possessed no hint of a ghost, no reason or rhyme at all.

“What the hell?” came the subdued words, unbidden, to Zhao’s mouth.

The man twisted his face in a faint grimace as he grunted in agreement.

“An overwhelming victory for the white, yet inexplicably, black in its deathbed burns with fighting spirit, as though it were the victor, not the vanquished. For too long this puzzled me to no end, as I too pondered not only on the elusiveness of this battle’s ghost. Not only that, but as I delved deeper into its analysis, I came to a firmer conclusion that this had been no mere drill, no lone exercise. This had been an actual match fought out against a real opponent. And no mere rival, but rather a mind of colossal weight and even more titanic force of will.”

“It was in such straits that the news finally reached me. Far too late, I received word of my son’s catastrophic campaign against the rebels. By the time I arrived, there was nothing left to me but the bloodied remains of my son’s last legacy. Not even his body was ever found from that cursed battlefield.”

Zhao nodded involuntarily. Indeed, of the 50,000 strong army that had set out under the North Star, according to the records, little over 20,000 had survived that first disastrous engagement as the rebels had apparently lain in wait for just such an opportunity to ambush the enemy with a force of over 200,000 soldiers.

“Oh, how I raged. I railed against the heavens, I cursed the entire earth, but the deepest contempt I reserved for myself. It was through such dark furies that I wove the deadly tapestry of the infamous Gehenna Retreat. Never in my life had I burned so hotly, so fiercely to inflict the greatest pain upon another, to resist and persist to the bitter end.”

“By the time we reached our own border, our numbers had dwindled to little over 3,000 soldiers, more ghosts of vengeance than men, baptized under a flood of blood and over a grotesque mountain composed of over 120,000 of the enemy’s men.”

“Of course, though we had reached the relative safety of our own borders, we knew it was just the calm before the storm. We had mangled this army, but they had many more to draw upon. They would pounce upon us like the frenzy of a blood-crazed beast and simply bury us under another mountain of corpses, only this time we would forever become a part of it.”

“It was in such dire straits, dangling from the end thread of finality and despair, that I finally found my son’s final ghost.”

“H.. how?” babbled Zhao, unable to contain himself.

“I found the other peak.”

A ghost of a smile, more a grimace of pure pain rather than pleasure.

“Or rather, he found me.”

Author's Notes: Well, so as usual his particular arc keeps stretching. Then again, there's the bright news. Until Stahl's arc is over, there won't be any sudden interruptions of service. Meaning, you get more chapters sooner. It may not quite be the chapter you were hoping for, but as I said, it is all about compromise.

Thanks.