Capítulo 208: Chess
*Narrator*
The room is quiet, save for the occasional crackle of the fireplace, where flames flicker and dance, casting a warm, golden glow over the scene. The scent of alchemical ingredients—earthy herbs, sharp spices, and the faint tang of rare metals—fills the air, mingling with the scent of burning wood.
At the center of the room, a chessboard sat on a polished wooden table, the pieces frozen in a tense mid-game. Morpheus, his sharp eyes focused intently on the board, leans forward slightly, his fingers brushing his chin as he considers his next move. His robes, deep blue with silver embroidery, seem to shimmer in the firelight.
Across from him, Nicolas Flamel wears a faint, knowing smile. His eyes, bright with centuries of wisdom, flick between the pieces and Morpheus's expression. His hand hovers above the board, poised to make a decisive move. His posture is relaxed, almost casual, but there's an unmistakable air of confidence about him. The white pieces stand in a dominant position, encircling Morpheus's remaining black pieces with a subtle but undeniable pressure.
"I heard the last Wizengamot went well," Nicolas commented his eyes never leaving the board
Morpheus furrows his brow, eyes narrowing as he contemplates the board. He reached out, fingers hovering over a piece before retracting them. Flamel's smile widens slightly.
"It went as planned, some of the laws are going to be hard to push. The classic Imperio defense still holds strong in this day and age," Morpheus replied while moving his bishop
Finally, it was Nicolas's turn to make his move, placing a white knight with deliberate precision. The piece lands with a soft clink, a sound that seems to echo in the stillness of the room. The move is subtle, yet its implications are clear—a clever maneuver that tightens the noose around Morpheus's defense. Morpheus's eyes flicker with a mix of admiration and frustration as he studies the board once more.
"Ah, the Imperio defense I must say that one isn't one of my favorites. I much prefer the fil," Nicolas commented
The fire flickers, casting shadows that dance across their faces, highlighting the tension of the game. The scent of ingredients seems to grow stronger, as if the very air is alive with the anticipation of the match's outcome. Despite the calm demeanor of both players, the atmosphere is charged with the weight of each move, every decision carrying the potential to shift the balance of power.
Flamel's victory seemed almost inevitable, yet Morpheus remained undeterred, his mind was in complete peace.
"The fil? Of course, you would prefer French techniques," The divination master chuckled, "I don't like the wire personally but it's much better than the imperious defense," Morpheus made a move
"Call it the fil will you? The wire makes it seem so muggle," Nicolas huffed cutting off Morpheus's play
"We are playing the muggle version of chess," Morpheus fired back quickly moving a piece
Nicolas answered, "Whatever, how are your plans moving along? I still haven't the faintest clue why you don't deal with this dark lord so you escalate the real war," he then quickly moved
Morpheus responded in kind barely taking a thought to move his piece, "I still have so much to do before the war officially starts. Some of my old allies are alive but most are dead. What am I to do with this current era? Most of these wizards and witches don't know battle, don't know true war. In a lot of ways humanities strength is behind the past,"
Nicolas hummed in thought, "You aren't wrong, but you are clearly hiding something, old friend,"
Morpheus took his queen, "It seems all of my allies are sharing the same thoughts. I guess we will just have to wait and see. How are things in France?"
"The minister is taking precautions, he thinks the upcoming war will spread to his lands," Nicolas replied suddenly taking much longer to make his moves, "Bastard," he mumbled his eyes scanning the board intently
"He shouldn't be too worried, Tom will focus on Britain and the war won't last long enough to travel in that direction. However, when the time comes you can direct him into lending a hand," Morpheus smiled faintly as he turned the tables on Nicolas
"I see," the alchemist mumbled, "You wish to use this war to establish a relationship for the other,"
"Of course, it would make my life much easier. This isn't like the last wars, civilization is more ordered. Governmental," Morpheus spat, "It will be harder to coordinate, to plan to do just about everything my friend,"
"Is that why you approached Albus?" he asked
"Of course, he has influence with the majority of the light factions not to mention his sway with half-bloods and first-generation wizards and witches. Having him as an ally eliminates the majority of my problems concerning the light," Morpheus made a final move and finally looked up from the board, "Checkmate,"
Nicolas threw his hands in the air dramatically, "Bah! You always win it's getting exhausting,"
***
The door of the inn creaked open as a group of Aurors stepped inside, their presence commanding immediate attention. The dimly lit room was filled with the murmur of conversations, which quickly fell silent as the Aurors entered. Leading the group was Rufus, the head Auror, his tall figure and sharp eyes marking him as a man of authority. He moved with purpose, his robes billowing slightly as he walked, the rest of his team following closely behind.
The inn's common room was cozy, with a low fire crackling in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the wooden beams and stone walls. The scent of roasting meat and ale hung in the air, but the tension was palpable as the Aurors approached a secluded corner where a group of wizards sat waiting.
These were no ordinary wizards—the Sage's Eye, a hit wizard team that recently came to Britain to help with the impending war.
Rufus stopped in front of the group, his expression serious but composed. He inclined his head slightly in a gesture of respect, acknowledging the members of the Sage's Eye.
"Gentlemen," Rufus began, his voice steady and authoritative, "I appreciate you making the journey. As head Auror, it's my responsibility to ensure that any operations conducted on British soil are done with coordination and mutual understanding. You've been granted permission to operate here, but let me be clear—you will work in tandem with my Aurors."
The leader of the Sage's Eye met Rufus's gaze with a slight nod, acknowledging the terms without a word. The hit wizards exchanged brief, almost imperceptible glances, their collective understanding clear. This was no power struggle—both sides recognized the necessity of cooperation to face the challenges ahead.
Rufus continued, his tone leaving no room for ambiguity. "We have common enemies, and our goals are aligned. But there will be no lone wolves, no independent operations. We share information, we share resources, and we share the responsibility for whatever happens here."
The leader of the Sage's Eye leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing with interest. "We understand, Head Auror. Our skills are at your disposal. We've been briefed on the situation, and we're ready to act."
Rufus nodded, satisfied with the response. "Good. Then let's get to work."
With that, the tension in the room eased slightly, though the air remained charged with the anticipation of what was to come.
Estado de energía semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Piedra de
Poder