A Game of Chess

Arc III - The Howling Gales

The chamber of the Glacius was small, cold, and dark. It was nearly identical to that of the Ignis, with the most major of differences lying in the material that surrounded the platform - water that had frozen over into ice, and that was level with the stone - and the stone itself, being a light-gray as opposed to darker, obsidian-colored rock that made up the chamber of the Ignis.

And, in the middle of the chamber, standing over the pedestal from which the Glacius had been drawn, stood a tall windigo. His back was straight, and his eyes were cold, piercing the area around him as his teeth ground together in silent anger.

"Dammit..." he hissed, quietly. "No matter how many times I eat another creature's flesh, the foul taste still remains..."

Wendigo spat, then, onto the ice that surrounded him, and grimaced in disgust of his own actions. "I trust that you gained some joy from it, didn't you?"

Perhaps. However, you should know by this point that I do not find joy in such mundane, pathetic tasks as yours.

The voice was flat, emotionless, and carried only an air of foul supremacy that made Wendigo's blood boil whenever it spoke down to him with such derision.

Wendigo scoffed. "I suppose you wouldn't," he muttered, "especially considering that you're the one who's pushed me to this point. To think, that after forcing me to take on the mask of Hecatoncheir's personality, you would have me devour him whole... I'm almost surprised that such a vile creature as yourself exists."

It does, much to your chagrin, I'm sure. The ponies of this insignificant universe call it "Wendigo", do they not?

Wendigo gripped Conviction's handle, his hoof clenching so tight around it that his flesh changed from white to dark-blue. "Indeed," he growled, although there was nothing but anger behind his words. "Such despicable acts, such a wretched, foul being..."

... And such a useless, meaningless universe, with its denizens all wide-eyed, naive idealists who believe themselves to be perfect. There is no perfection in any of these universes; only chaff, and that chaff must be torn from the wheat, lest this accursed imperfection shall fester until only it remains.

Wendigo's grip on Conviction only tightened, and his eyes shone with fury at the beast that spoke only to him. "You realize, don't you?" he asked, his voice quivering. "I could speak your name at any moment, and Primary would come running to bring you to an end."

I highly doubt that even Primary could bring my fate to a close. And, in any case, he would likely slay you, as well, just so that he could have some semblance of peace at my defeat.

The hoof's grip loosened on the blade, and Wendigo let out a sigh. "Perhaps that is for the best," he admitted. "I'd sooner be dead than have your damned voice echoing in my head for the rest of eternity."

But in the case of your passing, how would you ever achieve that vengeance that you so desire? Instead, that which you want the most shall be tossed aside, thrown into a void within the maw of eternity. Even if you are not slain, your power will diminish without my aid, and your desire will instead fester. Yet, for me, it makes little difference. If you are to fall, I can always take another fool into my grip, just as I've done before.

Wendigo's teeth began to grind together, and his grip on the hilt tightened once more, but he said nothing.

Because, you see, in this game of chess, there is but one victor. And that victor... is me.

"Are you done, yet?" snarled Wendigo. "Because this conversation is really starting to irritate me."

Just as it does every day, I'm certain. However, perhaps you should have better planned out Deun's ambush on Checkmate Vigarde and his band of insolent allies. Instead, the militia that they appear to have constructed of themselves are to begin their journey to arrive here soon.

"Perfect," replied Wendigo, and the look on anger on his face had been replaced with a smug smirk. "Oh, and I believe that I've planned everything out beautifully, for your first point. Why do you think I had Deun attack them at that exact spot?"

What? Why would you do such an idiotic, foolish maneuver as that?

Wendigo could hear the irritation and the anger behind the voice, and his smirk only grew. "Two reasons, actually," he said. "The first, to spite you, and to gain this reaction. The second, however..." He laughed, then. "You see, friend, I've a plan; a plan that has been almost a decade in the making, and one that is about to be completed."

A plan, you say? You have piqued my interest.

He grimaced, as the voice had returned to its monotonous, flat state. "Oh, come now," he said. "I claimed that a plan had been constructed, not that I had any intention of telling it to you."

Perhaps it would be best for us to reaffirm just who among the two of us is truly the most irritating. However, it matters not; everything shall go just as it was always meant to. The Zephyr shall soon reach its completion, and this useless universe shall perish into the darkness of eternity. You and I, Wendigo, shall destroy this entire world and everything beyond it, and then perfection shall be ever more close to being achieved.

Wendigo spat, once more, onto the frozen water, his saliva instantly freezing. "Perfection," he muttered, angrily. "This universe may as well be 'perfection'. It's far better than most other places around here, until you decided to screw around with it, of course..."

You appear to have grown attached to this insignificant, imperfect place.

"What can I say?" Wendigo asked, calmly. "I like this place, and the creatures who live in it. If it weren't for you worming your way into my skull all those years ago, I think that I'd be able to appreciate it far more than I do now..."

Perhaps that should have been what you thought about before you agreed to our deal. I've given you the power that I promised, and the means for your vengeance. Our vengeance, I should say, for we both desire the same creatures to fall into agony and destruction, to watch as their precious universes crumble into the dust.

"Well, then," Wendigo started, his voice becoming more relaxed, "how about I place a new deal?"

A new deal?

"If Checkmate Vigarde can put a stop to me - if he can kill 'Wendigo' -, then you are to let me be, and you are no longer to torment any creatures in this universe. In fact, to make you agree, I'll challenge him with all of the power that this form can muster."

Intriguing, yet you must realize that a creature as worthless as he could not even begin to injure this form of yours, with the power I have provided you.

"Yet what if he does? What would you do in that case?"

Silence reigned for but a few moments after Wendigo had finished speaking.

In the case that Checkmate Vigarde, useless as he may be, can kill the form known as 'Wendigo', I shall leave the creatures of this universe be, and I shall ensure that you shall never be blessed with my presence again. If he is able to end this creature's life at its highest amount of energy, then there is no doubt that this universe is one to save until the end of my conquest.

"Perfect," replied Wendigo, and his smirk returned. "That's just what I'm asking for. Besides, I know Checkmate enough to understand his power, and the strength of the two weapons should be enough to end this pitiful existence of mine."

I'm almost surprised that a creature such as yourself, ever eager to cling to his life, would run so blindly into death. Even though I understand just how impossible Checkmate's victory over you is, I must say that your confidence in him is rather... interesting.

"What can I say?" asked Wendigo. "I like Checkmate. I like every creature in this universe - even the ones burning in hellfire - a good deal more than you, anyway. This mask you've made me wear is really starting to grate against me, but I know that I can't exactly remove it do to your... interference. Besides, at this point, who would expect me, the foul and evil Wendigo, to turn out to actually be even remotely benevolent? No, death is the only way that I can be released from this Hell that this form has left me with. Even if that solution is artificial, it would be better than living a lie as a monster." He ran a hoof down his side. "To think that the Catalyst is real would be something that none of them would even give a second thought to, because, no matter what, the body that committed these atrocities, the one who was always in control of this form -" Wendigo shook his head "- was me."

How utterly droll. Perhaps you should take a lesson in acting, because your less vile side seems to always show through. Your little show at the Winter Gala, nearly revealing my identity to Rolan, and this last escapade of yours... How long until you proclaim that a calavern is the one behind these acts? You already nearly revealed yourself to Dusk because of your last slip-up, and you almost stated Primary's name for the creatures back in Solace. What would you have claimed, once he learned the truth of the matter? You've proven that not only are you an idealist, but also an idiotic, insolent child who deserves the punishment that has been due for years for his crimes.

Wendigo raised up his hoof, then, and slammed it into the ice before him. The sound echoed throughout the chamber; the sound of ice being smashed into stone, and what several ponies had undoubtedly heard throughout his talking with the beast in his mind.

"Fuck you," he hissed, his voice cold, angry, and his hoof now bleeding into the water from where the broken shards of ice had cut into it. "I hope that Primary learns the truth of the matter, that Secondary, that Zectao, that Diasnier, that Verin, and that every other damned calavern learns just what you're doing!"

Do you really think that they can, though? Even if they learn the truth of the matter, do you truly assume that they'll listen to a word that comes from your lips? To them, you are the enemy of all that they stand for, and nothing can change that fact. Yet soon, there will be no need to, and another universe shall crumble into the depths of eternity, just like every other one that I've had the pleasure of annihilating. Because I am the true lord of this game of chess, the master of the game, and the one who commands all. The reckoning of every creature shall come, and a perfect universe shall arise in their place. All that must be done is the destruction of those last remaining calaverns.

"You make it sound so simple," growled Wendigo through grit teeth, clutching at his injured hoof. "All that I have to do is deny everything that you tell me to do, and this game of yours comes to an end."

But you won't, as I've said, because you and I both desire the same thing, in the end. Both of us desire to see Primary's carcass, lifeless, and useless, as he drifts amongst the sea of eternity. His dreams shall have been shattered, just as every one those creatures shattered mine.

The last word of that statement contained nothing more than pure, concealed rage that showed even through the monotonous speech. Even as he wanted to watch it squirm for all that it had done to him, Wendigo said nothing, instead attempting to ignore the voice once more.

Perhaps we shall see, then, Wendigo. We shall see the true power of Checkmate Vigarde, and, perhaps, we shall witness the power of a creature who can rival even my might. I must say that it truly is rather interesting. He and the other, the mercenary, seem to be the greatest threats. Indeed, this is an interesting situation, and I am quite curious to see how this plays out. Perhaps it will be as exciting as when I found you twenty-five-hundred years ago, or, perhaps...

... You shall simply meet your end at the hooves of these creatures that you have done nothing but slaughter.