Below is what I can only consider the "pre-narrative" to the main chapter. I don't know if there is a specific literary term for this so I am sticking with what I have. I'm posting this partial chapter because I am behind on writing and I am hoping for any forgiveness that might come my way. As I can only stress so much, this is merely a draft. That said, let me know what you think.
Black: Round 8, Bishop to h6 taking white’s Bishop
Journal Entry 17, Sol-System, 05/06/2189/Osernes System, Days on Planet Trearshimeen: 401.
For the record, should any of this be of concern to any creature hereafter, I have taken it upon me to record the events in which I have found myself. This is day 401, and from this point forward I will cease to juxtapose the days on Tre (the name in which I have chosen to call this world) with those of Earth so as to avoid pedantry. Documentation has been sufficient enough so that any student of these words hereafter will know that one day on Tre is approximately 10 hours longer than a day on Earth. However a year is significantly longer than that of Earth’s more than tripling the time in which it takes Earth to orbit Sol. From here on out I will begin the calendar in which is most pertinent to this planet and myself. The calendar begins 401 days ago, the day in which my brother, Hopi, and I, fell from Heaven.
I will begin my personal entry by stating a fact. It is impossible for Hopi to be unaware of this worlds’ days in correlation to the days of Earth, and yet he should know that it is the same for me. This presents a significant dilemma of mind, one in which I must take seriously. In my last interaction with my brother, Hopi said that he can reach Heaven within years. Let’s say for instance, that he was speaking the truth from his own mind, the truth being the starting point, now it is up to me to determine whether he was referring to Earth’s years, or Tre’s. There is no doubt he wanted me to believe that it was those of Earth, as “years” passes within the blink of an eye for the immortal, however, “years” which one could take in the context of our conversation, to mean no less than three and no more than five given to Tre’s calendar.
All the faculties that compose my being cannot bring me to conclude that Hopi has been capable of accomplishing what he has attempted to convince me that he has. If it should be so, then he has neglected to offer any information whatsoever which could explain such great achievements, in such short period of time. Heaven remains out of reach for more than a few years, I am certain of it, even if Hopi has enslaved the entire populace of this world, which, as of current estimates does not exceed 20 million. However, it might be in the coming days that one might receive aid from Heaven. I will make no attempt to explain myself at this time, only to illustrate my current state of affairs.
I, along with Tre, on our quest to the Atheneum across the sea of Tuschach, have come across a unique individual, one in which has aided greatly in my understanding of this world and, as I have been mapping out the most pertinent locations upon this globe as I have trekked across these hills, I shall give an accounting, the location upon Tre in respect to Heaven’s tracking system is 40.741895,-73.989308. Dulvary is a scribe from an ancient order whom I have confided in and whom has taken me in. Interestingly I have found out many things in which are vital to understanding this world in which is so truly gemlike but perhaps only so relative to a lost Earthling whom carries fond memories from a dying age in his heart ever still. Earth reflects upon the the hills in the light of Osernes and I am delighted, albeit endlessly bewildered as to its likeness. Dulvary, a wiseman from the order of Turtant, King of Cesramin in the age of the first Enlightenment. His abode is filled with scrolls, histories of this world. It is truly a delight to learn the language of this people. To sit aside his flickering fire in the night, contemplating the mysteries of this world has the affect of transporting the imagination into a world of fantasy that the greatest writers of Earth’s history have ever conceived. The language he speaks is not that of Tre’s, in fact, Tre’s language, I have found is wholly unique and I have yet to determine its origin, even the origin of herself.
Lastly, I cannot neglect to mention the game of chess my brother has engaged me in. I take my turn once a week. It is, under the circumstance quite odd that I should be so concerned over a game when there are much more pressing issue at hand, but all the same, my enemy is none other than my brother, and the cells in my system convulse in anxiety should I leave a match begun in the heart of Heaven with a man that I love unfinished. However, I intend to win.