"You should be a god, you know."    

Conversationally, stated with the air of someone announcing that yes, today would be a lovely day for a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits outside on the veranda.  She considers the chessboard, rolls the Rook between her fingers for a moment, then places it with a flourish.  A triumphant look and a winning smile. "Check."   

It is a dream. You are entirely sure of that if nothing else.  You can tell by the way time seems to hang suspended around you, as if this moment could stretch on forever; by the indistinctness of detail; by the way you’re still aware on some level of the campfire crackling and popping away in the darkness a few feet from your bedroll.    

You’re sitting at a table on the front porch of a manor house.  All around you are sprawling grounds, elegantly manicured and beautiful, with hedgerows, statuary, flowers of all colors and types, and servants busily working to maintain them. The day is comfortably warm, but a cool breeze blows out of the south.  There’s mulled cider in a glass at your elbow.  It’s nice to be here.     

You say something companionable and forgettable, then make a move of your own, bringing the King out of check and placing new pressure on her defenses.  She laughs- a clear and beautiful sound that rings out like a silver bell.     

“Couldn’t have been that easy, could it?”  she says good-naturedly, steepling her hands and staring at her forces.  You see her now, fully. More beautiful than can be imagined. Her snow-white hair cascades down her shoulders like a waterfall of light and her azure eyes are as deep as the sea.  You can smell the smell of her, honeysuckle and rose, at once both pleasing and pungent.  On her brow is a circlet of flowering vines whose great thorns seem to cause her no pain, bloodlessly resting against her alabaster skin.     

The silence between you spins out.  Abruptly, she leans across the table and plants a hot kiss on your lips, lingering a moment afterward to share your breath.  Your need for her is immediate and physical, even in the dream, and you keep your seat only with difficulty.  Your heart beats loudly in your ears.   

“This is only going to end one way.  You can understand that, can’t you?”   You reply that the game is evenly matched, which seems to disappoint her.   

You are aware of the rest of the manor, of the coolness of the breeze, of the game spread out in front of you.  But all of these things are faded and indistinct next to Her, next to this woman in White who seems to be the only thing in your dream with any color or life of its own.  You can feel her on a level beyond simple awareness.   

“I need your help to do this the right way.  I’ve lost before. You and I have done this dance a thousand times. A thousand times a thousand.” A look of distaste crosses her face.   

“Together, we can make the world in our own image, fix what’s broken, make everyone like you- untethered.  No kings, no strings, nothing holding them back.  Free.”  By rote, as if it’s something she’s said many times before.     

With long fingers, she takes hold of the Queen and places it in the board’s center.  “You’ve had it now.  I’ve got checkmate in three moves.”   

You consider the board, advance a pawn, then tell her that you’re not even in the endgame yet.   She shakes her head, then lets out a long sigh.  

“This won’t be a struggle or a war, but a slaughter, a holocaust.  You can choose to avoid this.”   

You tell her that you’d like to finish the chess game, that this talk can wait for later.  It’s as if you’ve slapped her across the face.   

Violently, she explodes to her feet, knocking the chair to the floor with a clatter.  Her eyes meet yours, hold them in place, like an adder with a mouse.  “Behold! I come quickly.  I’m nigh at hand, even at the doors.  And once I arrive in power, it’s going to be no contest. I assure you of that.”   

Her voice has lost its even cadence and become a deep rasp.  

“Your armies will die on the field and your princes will cast their crowns at my feet.”   

In the distance, a wolf howls.   

She composes herself and sits back down.  “Soon. I’m growing stronger all the time and soon, we’ll meet face-to-face.  Then we can continue this game.  I’ve grown quite fond of it.”  She moves the Queen decisively, then smiles.  “Check.”   

And there it is.  You see it now, the way the board is evolving.  Her next move will place the Rook on your back row and pin your King.  After that, it’s just a matter of time.  Checkmate.   

“I’m not looking for slaves or servitors.  I need partners to help me reshape things, allies who can show me what I’m not seeing and help me to do this the right way.  I see that now.”  She smiles ruefully.  

“After last time, how could I not?”   In that moment, you have a flash of a vision, a dream-within-a-dream.  You can see a grassy field surrounded on all sides by the blackness of the void, some terrible creature doing battle with-  

angels  

people you don’t recognize but feel a kinship with.  Some titanic struggle at the edge of time and space, some battle for stakes you can’t comprehend. 

“No kings, no strings.  Think about it.  I’m bringing a new world. Sinistra offert iram dexteram libero(1).”   She shakes her head.  “Never enough time, is there?  Soon.  Seek me in the land where the hopeless labor under a steely sky.  I will look as you do not expect, but it will be me.”   And with that, the dream fades away like mist and you wake in your bedroll.   

(1) My left hand offers wrath, but my right, freedom.