When the pawn hits the floor…
It doesn’t shatter. The player is surprised; the piece appears to be made of bone. He expected a satisfying mess for his efforts. It is no King or Queen…just a piece of little value. Expendable, replaceable.
He is unaware that the pawn is the one piece on the board that isn’t what it seems. It was fashioned lovingly of steel, forged and refined by hands keenly aware of the need to make it unbreakable. The smooth ivory is only a veneer.
Though presumed to be ignorant, the pawn knows what the player does not. He plays against himself, and thus fancies that he is destined to win. In truth, he is destined to play forever – always feeling the sting of loss.
He searches with increasing desperation for the pawn, needing it to complete his set so that he may try to recover his losses from his ruthless opponent. From himself.
But it has rolled away, and he can’t find it anywhere.