I am a published author of the book The Accounts of Benny's Diner and Other Stories, novel of sixteen short stories available on Amazon.
The first move. And it was...
The first chessboard was made of wisdom and rock. The Chess Master, having finished it in six days took a step back and smiled. But something was wrong. From the chessboard its Creator noticed a piece or two which had fallen. The king and its queen had rolled off to the edge of the board. Slowly, he stood the two up. He placed them in their respective places.
He was not alone.
One of His broken creations had slipped into His workroom (whom had been banished from here for whatever reason it was) and stood before the Chess Board Maker. The mischievous adversary could hardly be silent for as he moved noise came from his body (a long time ago his fellow creation enjoyed his song. But that was a long time ago.).
The Chess Board Maker saw an opportunity to teach a lesson to this little devil. He slid a pawn in the direction of this broken creation of His. In turn His enemy seemed to watch for what seemed like an eternity (but it wasn't) before moving one piece.
The game had begun.
And time drew out like a blade with each piece sliding into place.
The pieces moved slowly in place. Century met century. Time was forgotten, and then time exhaled in memory. Time envisioned wars, and stories, and each story connected to others. Pieces slid into plagues, and labyrinths of legends and myths forgotten, and remembered. Each piece slid into place slowly, carefully. The two chess masters thought in silence, leaving nothing to error, as piece met piece. The souls fell to the border, some walking into eternity, others crawling against their will to their next death.
With each soul lost the Board Maker was crushed. However each soul lost left ecstasy in His enemy. For to the Chess Board Maker, a soul was forever. For a soul was closest to His Heart of all His creation.
The game was thousands of years in. Thousands.
The game continued...
As the pieces moved into place, strangely nothing happened. The great adversary, bold in pride, a genius, a cunning murderer, watched all his pieces, counting them his, his alone. He never learned from his mistakes. His strengths had become his weaknesses. And he was ever so blind to those things.
He was a thief who fell from eternity into time. And he knew he was running out of time. Soon hell would find him. And the hatred toward his Maker would follow him to that hell. He picked a pawn and that pawn neared the Maker's King Piece.
The victory was within reach.
Finally, the end. And then ultimately a beginning.
And then, the move before the foundations of the earth, a play not seen from anyone's eye... The Master of the board pulled His Hand from His King's Piece.
The Board maker paused. Silence. Awe. Then... Instinctively the King's Piece slowly toppled over... On its own. And for three days the Chess Maker's nemesis riled in ecstasy! For in those three days eternity held it's breath, the chess board lay still.
The game was won.
And the game ended...
The King had been taken. Hell consumed the King fallen. The Chess Board Maker turned a way.
For a moment, the board shook. Pieces rolled off the board slipping into different cracks onto the earth, and some the Chessboard Maker himself caught and carefully placed on His shelves. His opponent wondered why He seemed oblivious to the happenings on the board. Oblivious to the King. Nor His King's Queen.
This was the end. But also a beginning as well. The King Piece fallen, raised back up. Its mahogany charred from fire and brimstone but the robe shown a brilliant white. And all the pieces on the King's side that had fallen beyond the chess board's borders stood up. And some returned to the board! The adversary was silent. The Board Maker gathered the few pieces His, and set them on a shelf high away and safe.
The King's Piece happened to be a part of the Chess Maker's being. Not an essence, but full of the King's likeness and still fully a Piece on the board.