‟Artria,” Morgan greeted. ‟I'm reporting.”

It was early Spring in the knight's courtyard, where the first flowers were blooming past the Winter's cold. The knight commander sat at a small stone table, game pieces laid out on the board before her. She looked up to her incoming protégé, cape always covering her arm in disguise.

‟Morgan. Welcome back. Have a seat. How goes the mission?”

‟Underwhelming, the young squire replied.” Morgan gave a lazy salute before sitting opposite. ‟I worry this level of missions will not be enough training come time for me to take the knight's exams.”

Art nodded her head understandingly. ‟Do you know how to play?” She gestured to the game board.

‟I'm sorry?”

‟Gambit,” Art clarified. ‟Have you played gambit before?”

‟Can't say I have.”

Art casually reset the board while explaining. ‟Diagonal pieces move horizontally. Horizontal moves diagonally. The 'ruler' piece can destroy adjacent pieces and jump in the direction of the other pieces.” She gave quick and concise demonstration with each of the pieces while Mogan watch. ‟Defeat my 'ruler' and you win. Understood.”

The young squire breathed and quietly internalized the instruction for a minute before replying, ‟Yes.”

‟Very well. I'll start.” Art artfully moved a piece forward.

‟I don't quite understand...”

‟The rules?”

‟Does this have to do with my worries?”

Art gestured for Morgan to make her move. The squire looked down at the board, visualized the possible scenarios, then moved a piece diagonally. The pair began playing, moving piece after piece in a rhythmic beats. In the cool Spring weather, Morgan was calmed by the atmosphere, though sje could not help but feel she was being prepared for something.

Finally, Art spoke. ‟I don't think you're a good fit for the knights.”

Morgan froze mid move. ‟What?” She set her piece back into its original spot. ‟Is this... are you failing me in advance?”

‟Of course not,” Art admitted, eyes still on the board. ‟I think you'll make a fine knight, and that you will pass with ease. But I think you're more suited for other futures.”

Morgan sighed, both in relief and frustration. ‟Other... future?” She finally moved her piece.

As they played, Art elaborated. ‟You're far more suited to be a politician, or an investigator. Maybe a hunter, or a detective, like in those stories you like so much.”

Morgan blushed, which would look weird on half her face. ‟I-I do not!”

Art chuckled. ‟There is no shame. You're still young. To dedicate the rest of your life to knighthood seems a dead-end to me. Your swordsmanship is above par, but nothing close to myself or Merylin. You're far stronger in mind than strength, though not much of a tactician. Soluble is your thinking, and knighthood is the furthest thing from an organization of change.”

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Morgan wanted to speak back, but Art's tone of voice was neither demeaning nor angry. Simply stating the fact. It was hard for Morgan to find the will to argue with the analysis.

‟I...” Morgan, but caught herself before continuing. She paused the game before her as well, analysing the moves left to her on the board while internalizing her thoughts. ‟I do no think I will enjoy being a politician, or any other occupations.” She moved a diagonal piece to put Art's ruler in check.

Art seamlessly countered by moving her ruler to eat a horizontal piece. ‟I didn't realise employee satisfaction was high on your list of needs.” The knight commander chuckled.

‟All else being equal, it is definitely something I think about.”

‟And you enjoy being a knight?”

Morgan paused again. It felt like she was being interviewed for a job. In a sense, it could be considered as such. Despite practically being raised by Art, she always felt the latter was more a teacher than a mother figure. And at that moment, while playing gambit and discussing her future, it had never seemed more so.

After a moment of thought, Morgan answered, ‟No. I don't enjoy it any more than any other things I do. But at least you're here, and so is Merylin. And the other knights have already accepted me. At least I do not need to worry about being judged for my appearance here.”

Art moved her ruler and ate another of her piece. ‟How many times have I told you? Your appearance makes you not.”

Too many times to count, that's how many times. ‟What I belief doesn't change how other people think.”

The pair continued to play. Gambit was a short game, meant to be done in 10 minutes. But every turn of Morgan's she paused to consider her moves deeply. It may be her first time playing, but she wanted to give her best even then.

It took a while, but Art's remaining 13 pieces whittled Morgan's side down to 9.

At that moment, a question crossed Morgan's mind. ‟Do you think the same of lizardkins?”

For the first time in their game, Art's movement slowed slightly. ‟It's different for them. They are a different species entirely.”

‟What difference would there be?”

‟They are a cold blooded race. They live for their tribe and their tribe alone, with no sense of the greater world. They would sell your back if it meant a night of decadence for their tribe. That's why they gave us over to the god of darkness.”

Morgan spotted an opening and decided to push it. She had little to lose against the far more experienced player.

‟Could they not change? The lizardkins. If they were to be allowed to speak and live in the world at large, could they not become more accepting.”

‟People do not change easily. If the ideology of individuals were that fluid, wars would be a thing of foregone history.”

‟But you're different. You never saw me for my looks.”

‟Because I was raised different. Like attracts like. If you're different, you tend to attract those who are different.”

A yellow flower clipped off the branch of the tree next to them, spiralling down to the ground and landing in a small puddle of stagnant water. Its petals gently waved as ripples exuded from where it landed.

‟I think you're wrong,” Morgan added.

Slightly confused, Art asked, ‟About what?”

‟About change. I think we can change. I think we can be better than what the world says we are supposed to be. For that, I think you are wrong.”

‟Well, that's why you're here. If I'm wrong, I hope you'll be there to stop me one day.”

Morgan move her diagonal piece forward. ‟Gambit.”

‟Sorry?”

‟Gambit,” Morgan repeated. ‟That's what you're supposed to say when you win, am I wrong?”

Art looked down at the board and analysed the situation. ‟Well, that really is impressive for your first game.”

‟Thank you,” Morgan bowed slightly at the compliment.

‟But not good enough,” Art grinned schemingly. She then moved her ruler across a diagonal piece, eating her own horizontal piece in the process. A sacrificial move.

‟How-?”

Art smiled. ‟And the game continues.”