Two deities sit at a solar table with their cosmic game of chess, one with white flowing hair made of starlight, his eyes two orbs of void. Shin Guang is his name, wearing silk robes adorned with golden lotuses sewn into the threads. His face lit up, a glowing smile across his wrinkled face as he stroked his long, well-kept beard. The other sitting across from him, Guin Shang, had a constant scowl. His head, smooth, reflecting off the light that his brother emitted, his eyes exuded fury, wide open with pure whiteness, his black beard, thick, short, rough. His robes, textured like sandpaper, dark like the space between worlds, were adorned with crimson dragons punctured into the grain.
First to speak would be Shin Guang, entertained, “My my brother. The steam seems to be pouring from your ears. What anger trembles you so?”
“Fah! You deny the proof I presented. You saw for yourself the ugliness of humanity! Yet you deny it! You deny the clear truth!” Grumbling, Guin Shang, in his imposing might, responded.
Shin Guang chuckled, knocking over a piece. “Brother, you only proved your own pathetic nature. You tempted them into the very outcome you desired.”
“The outcome I desired?! You accuse me of such things, brother?!” Guin Shang shouted.
Soon after, he knocked over one of Shin Guang’s pieces, a rotten grin forming, easing his anger, “Even so, wouldn’t they have not felt compelled to reap the jewels from my false corpse if greed wasn’t a part of their disgusting nature in the first place? Wouldn’t they have left me to my devices and continue my charity?”
Shin Guang shook his head, perceiving a fool rather than a brother, “Your ambitions cloud your reason, same with your sympathy. Your very hand is what guided them, filtering their natural curiosity to perceive their so-called ugliness, rather than proving a point.”
As Shin Guang continued, he’d knock over another piece of Guin Shang’s, “By filtering the outcome, you forced there to only be your perception, no longer something broad, but instead, something narrow that can’t be argued.”
Guin Shang laughed, a deep bellow like a bear’s yawn as he knocked over his opponent’s next piece, “No point in arguing? Then why humor me in the first place? That shows that you do care about what I say! That you do want this argument! If my truthful perception is so meaningless, then why continue debating me? You know I’m right, do you?”
Knocking over his final piece, Shin Guang had won the game, putting his hands together, obscuring them beneath his curtain-like sleeves, like a warrior sheathing his blade, “I care to hear my brother’s voice, not his one-sided beliefs. I enjoy our conversations, much like these games. Being here is between us, so why argue? After all, we aren’t playing for an audience, nor for humanity. I only hope for my younger brother to let go of pride and see that. So, how about we enjoy another round, not as opposing forces, but as brothers?”
Shin Guang picks up Guin Shang’s pieces, putting them back in their places. While annoyed, Guin Shang couldn’t deny the fun of this, so he shrugged, playing the game, albeit still filled with narrow views, unable to see the lesson in his eldest brother’s words.
