The irony of someone who fancies themself a knight speaking on pawns is not lost on me. I’d much rather tell the tale of a heroic knight as he fights to uphold his ideals.

But that’s not an option. The real world isn’t as glamorous as the chessboard. Chess is a battle of wit and strategy where each piece is limited and valuable. And most importantly, chess is fair.

The real world, on the other hand, is rigged from the start. We’re all pawns, actually, we’re less than pawns. At least a pawn has a chance to become something more, while most of us will never have any real value. Give us special names and titles, but that doesn’t change anything. At the end of the day, we’re still all moving to someone else’s marching orders. And after completing our mission we are rewarded by being tossed aside in favor of a new piece.

Is it so wrong that I wanted more than that? That I wanted my feelings to matter? Why should I have just left everything up to the one controlling the board?

No, I wouldn’t live like that. Even if the only other option was death, it would be a death that I chose myself. I would unshackle myself. Not out of some narcissistic desire, but so that I could become the knight that I pretend to be.

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A knight. If they wanted me to serve as a loyal knight I would have gladly done anything. If given the choice, I would have followed my master anywhere. But I wasn’t even allowed that. Rather than follow, I was simply going to be used and tossed aside.

No. I wouldn’t allow it. I couldn’t. I’d ignore the king and do what needed to be done.

At least, that was the idea. This pawn would leave the board of his own volition. I just forgot something important. Something so simple it wasn’t worth remembering. An obvious truth we all know, and one that I chose to ignore. There are two kings on the board, and unlike in the game of chess, a pawn will always be a pawn. Even when I thought I was making my own decisions, I was being led down a path I had no hope of escaping.

In my grand effort to break free, I simply ended up in another’s hands. Loyalty, dignity, honor, none of them meant anything. Empty words that they use to keep pawns like me in our rows.

Yeah, yeah, feel free to laugh. In reality, maybe even calling myself a pawn is giving me too much credit. I’m a tool. Meant to be used by others. And that is a fate that I’ll never escape. I wanted to march down the board under my own power, but that will never happen. My purpose is to play a part in the games of those who think themselves my better.

White or black, it didn’t matter. I was still just a pawn. A tool. That was true for my entire life, and unfortunately, even after.