“You’re very good at this, Mr. Clay.”
Caduceus looked across the board and gave the other man a warm smile. Caleb had his chin in hand, elbow leaning on his knee as he stared intently at the pieces in front of him.
“Hm, thank you. I guess I’ve had a lot of opportunity for practice.”
“Ja?” Caleb said, still looking at the board. “Against your siblings?”
Caduceus looked at the wizard curiously. He did not know Caleb as someone to often ask personal questions such as that. But here, sitting on either side of a chess board carefully balanced on a small tree stump, he noticed the deep concentration on the man’s face.
The question had appeared almost as an automatic response. Perhaps Caleb’s personal barriers were temporarily lowered as his mental resources were intently focused elsewhere.
“Not much, no. But I spent many seasons alone, and would often play against myself.”
The wizard nodded, hummed a soft agreement and then slowly reached out. His hand hovered above a white piece, but it did not actually make a move to pick it up. Biting his lip, Caleb seemed to reconsider. Finally he let out a sigh and leaned back again, his chin returning to his hand.
Caduceus smiled softly, amused at the man’s immense concentration.
“There was this great, green oak tree near the back of the Blooming Grove,” He said, thinking back to his home as he picked up his mug of tea, “Sometimes I’d play against him instead.”
It took a few seconds, but then a puzzled expression appeared on Caleb’s face. He looked up sharply at the firbolg, eyebrows raised.
“…Did you win?”
“Hmm, no.” Caduceus said, sipping his tea. “We never finished a game.”
