The orphaned wind raised the red, powdery sand into the air
with dazzling swirls. The forsaken, violated battlefield
lays still and dead. Below the yellow sky, broken remains of
unknown war machines were buried in the scorched surface,
unveiling random bits of shiny metal that could be seen
under the scattered sand.
But of all, most ominous was the thick, heavy silence that
hid in the depths of the blazing wind.
Right there, amid the ancient unfortunate grounds, there
were a chess table carved out of white marble, and two
perfect marble stools.
Two persons were just beginning a game of chess. They were
dressed black and white, according to their representative
color in the game.
"What is it in old objects that draw the curiosity of human
beings?" Black asked while pondering his next move.
"Well asked." White replied without raising his eyed from
the board. "It is not the object itself, but rather the
story that stands behind it. How that object came to be, and
what it went through until it crossed ways with me, these
are the questions that they seek answers for, unknowingly."

"I see." Black said as he made his move at last. "It is the
mystery that draws their attention. The beautiful thing
about old things is guessing how on earth they rolled on to
me at this moment. It applies to places as well, in a way."
Black added.
White responded only with a calculated move.
"But there is more to it." Black said. "Once a person comes
across an old object like that, he too becomes a part of its
story. The person who possessed or came by that object
before of him, shares the same story with him. And so do all
those who relate to that object."
"That results in an awful lot of stories, tied together by
one object."
"Isn't everything?"
Black made a move, and White followed immediately. He
probably planned his move for a while.
The wind blew.
"Do you think they will prevail?" White asked.
"I don't know. Nothing is certain." Black said with obvious
concern. "Whatever will happen, we will follow. Wherever
they go, we are a part of their story, just like those who
stumble against something old."
A few moments later, a bright circle was drawn in mid-air, a
few meters away from the chess table. It was filled with
some glowing light that came from within it. It was a
gateway.
"So soon?" Black asked, as they both noticed the gate. They
stopped playing.
"No, they are right on time for a surprise."
"This is it." Black said. "I guess we're going to see how
this story ends."
"Will it end indeed?" White quickly added. "This time, it is
our story as well as theirs. It's up to them."
They both stood up and made their way towards the gate. Once
they entered it, it closed behind them, and the forgotten
battlefield was left deserted again; and yet, the war had
just begun.