Dialogue journal 1

Both characters trying to win the conversation:

Bri held up his Kyrrin and looked at it carefully. This particular carving seemed to be in a stiff wind. The artist did well with the coloring, too—gray, black, and crimson gradiated throughout the figure. He held it close to see if the artist had left their signature on its base. Yes. There it was. A tree with a door in its trunk. Curious. He’d never seen the symbol before.

“Are you taking your turn, or have you just removed that piece from the board?” asked his brother. “I’m happy to accept the latter.”

E’Li was always so formal, so serious. Even when he was ribbing Bri it was done with an air of formality. Where the fath had it come from? Their mother was long dead; Bri had no recollection of her manner, which meant E’Li had no recollection either. They were twins, and Bri was the elder. Their father, on the other hand, was a dockman. E’Rydyn paid little heed to formality in all its shapes. A hard day’s work, a stiff drink, a smoke, a hearty laugh—that’s all the old Delodien needed. He was a simple man. A simple man with complicated sons.

Bri set the Kyrrin down on the worn Rivulet board. The Tenth Toll was the only Celiban tavern that had Rivulet dens and was the sponsoring home of the Rivulet Coalition. Any Celiban worth their salt in the game went through the Toll. This contest between brothers was not a Coalition match, but Bri knew he, at least, was worth his salt. He’d been in the habit of beating E’Li two of three times lately. And as he set his Kyrrin down next to a lonely Unter, he knew he was close again.

“You do this regularly, E’Li,” he said. “You play for a stalemate and still lose.”

“Have I lost?”

“Look at the board. You’ve packed your Lostrals and Rector around the Kamachaden and have done nothing with your Tybl. I’ve already taken your Kyrrin. Do you really think you’ll be able to bring me to a draw with a single Unter and Kuva left? Why you play so defensively is beyond me. And why you put so much stock in your Rector is a madness I’ll never understand.”

“The Rector is the most powerful piece on the board, Brilen.”

“Is it now?” Bri laughed. “How so?”

“Because a Rivulet piece is not just determined by its range and the permutations of moves it can make. Surely you, of all people, are intelligent enough to know it is a blend of range and expectation.”

“Range and expectation? Are you saying the Rector is the most unassuming piece on the board?”

“Not in the slightest. The Tybl will always have that title. And besides, the Rector is only one piece. But the Rector is the piece that can accomplish the most with the lowest expectations. We know a Lostral gets us very little. Kuvas and Unters are more expendable in our minds because their numbers are greater. And the Kyrrin is so powerful that it is considered far more apt an attacker than the Rector. It is often considered too important to lose and too essential to use.”

“All your theory tells me,” Bri returned, “is that you’re no good with your Kyrrin and afraid to get messy. I think you’re just tired of losing to me.”

“Am I?” said E’Li, sliding his one remaining Unter two spots forward to an empty square.