Alexei's father, flipping through the local newspaper, suddenly paused. His eyes narrowed on a small ad buried between event listings:
"District Junior Chess Tournament – Ages 7–12 – All Skill Levels Welcome."
He slowly folded the paper and turned to Alexei, who was sketching knights and bishops on a scrap of homework.
"Want to try playing a real game, son?"
Alexei looked up, puzzled. "A real game?"
His father smiled. "There's a tournament next month. It could be fun. What do you say?"
Alexei hesitated, then nodded slowly. Something in his chest sparked. Excitement? Fear? Or something deeper—a calling.
Alexei starts to prepare for his tournament...
The next four weeks blurred into routine, but one charged with purpose. Every evening, after school, Alexei and his father would sit together at the kitchen table, the antique board between them. They studied tactics, practiced openings, solved puzzles.
But no matter how much his father taught, something else was teaching Alexei too.
Someone...
It began one night, deep into the second week. The house slept. The torchlight flickered. Alexei sat alone, playing through Tal's old games, fingers ghosting over the squares.
And then, like a ripple in the air—he appeared.
A tall, cloaked figure, eyes glowing faintly from beneath his shadowed hood. The room didn't grow colder. It didn't grow warmer. It simply… shifted.
"Back again, young magician," the figure said, voice like smoke curling through silence.
Alexei didn't flinch this time. Instead, he asked, "Can you teach me?"
The figure stepped forward, placing a ghostly hand above the board.
"I can't teach you what you already know.But I can show you what you've forgotten."
The Night Lessons ...
Every night after that, the dreamless hours transformed into strange training sessions.
The Shadow Man didn't just teach chess.
He conjured positions on the board that had never existed.
He showed impossible puzzles—games played in dreams, not in history.
He whispered in riddles:
"What's sacrificed is never lost.The board remembers."
Sometimes, Alexei would fall asleep at the board and wake with new ideas etched into his memory. Other times, he'd find a piece moved in the morning… or a variation he had never known scribbled into his notebook.
His father noticed the change."You're thinking faster," he said one day. "And… braver."
But Alexei never told him about the Shadow Man.
Some truths sound like madness.
On the eve of the tournament, Alexei sat alone in the dark again. The room was quiet.
The Shadow Man appeared one final time, this time wearing a familiar expression—half smile, half sorrow.
"I can't come with you tomorrow," he said.
Alexei looked up. "Why not?"
"Because the board will test you. Alone.This is your first real sacrifice—not of pieces… but of doubt."
He raised a hand, and the chessboard glowed faintly.
"One move can reveal everything. One mistake… can open doors best left closed."
"Am I ready?" Alexei asked.
The Shadow Man leaned closer, and for a moment—just for a flicker—Alexei thought he saw Mikhail Tal's eyes behind the veil.
"You were born ready."
And with that, he vanished—leaving only a whisper in the stillness.
suddenly, he remembers his inspiration , the man he looks up to...Mikhail Tal...
Next chapter...To be continued...