The Game of Forces

Ulu allows himself to be captured by soldiers of the Towered City in hopes of locating Sage, his beloved son; meanwhile, his captors play a game of forces…

9 min

Rabbi Erez Moshe Doron

Posted on 13.09.23

Warriors of Transcendence, Part 54
 
Two weeks passed and Ulu remained with the villagers.  While he had long conversations with the dozens of newly enlightened individuals who had previously been followers of the Imposter, answering their many questions, many others packed their belongings, preparing to return to their homes in the villages.
 
“Ulu possesses important knowledge,” those interested in learning admonished.  
 
“Stay and learn. Don’t rush off.”   
 
But the majority of the villagers shrugged their shoulders in annoyance.  
 
“The old man, too, knew many things and almost led us to our death. We have had enough.”
 
“Ulu is not an imposter like the old man. He is an honest, truthful man.”
 
“We have no doubt,” was their answer, “but we are worn out from all of this, and incapable of proper judgment.  Our expertise is our knowledge of seeds and plants.   We are comfortable in our fields.  Let us resume our work on the land.”
 
“What about the Shadows lurking on the way?” Ulu asked as the villagers disappeared into the distance.  Sorrowfully, he warned them of the Tower Warrior who could invade their peaceful homes. Didn’t they want to know the truth?  Didn’t they want to know how to protect themselves? Are they not fearful for the future of their children?
 
Tent after tent had been disassembled, and less than one hundred villagers remained from the original thousands. Ulu asked the Transcendor to protect those who had left, and he proceeded to teach those who remained about Unification. Grief clouded his eyes. He felt that those who had left would face many dangers, though he understood that he was unable to protect them.
 
“They will have to learn these things on their own,” he reflected.
 
“We shall teach them,” said the young man who had been Ulu’s first student. “We discussed the matter, and decided to follow our brothers to the villages to protect them. We shall spread out in each village, armed with the knowledge you have given us. We have made notes of your words. If a Tower Warriors or Obliterator approaches us, we will know how to protect ourselves.”

They had no idea how childish and inexperienced they truly were!
 
* * *
 
“Won’t you travel to Fire Mountain?” asked Ulu, pleadingly.
 
“Maybe someday,” answered the young man, “after we ensure everyone’s safety.”
 
Ulu felt powerless. He wished to oppose their plan and to tell them that a visit with the Master of Transcendence was necessary to strengthen them sufficiently so that they could be victorious in battle.
 
“The information you have is so meager, you are inexperienced beginners, and the forces you will face are much stronger than you. You have no chance against them, you don’t understand…” he desired to say, but remained silent. The Imposter had always demeaned them, made decisions for them and told them what to do. Ulu had learned from the Master of Transcendence that this was not the proper way to lead his men. Each man was free to choose his own path, which would lead him to the truth if his intentions were honest and his heart pure. He looked into their eyes and knew that his task was complete. They had been rescued from deception, they had received important self-defense training, and now they were moving on, determined and free to choose.
 
“Go on your way,” he said, “As long and winding as it may be. Your way is the only path.”
 
They did not fully understand Ulu and their faces expressed uncertainty.
 
“They will understand, in time,” he comforted himself, and parted from them with words both simple and clear: “May the Light of the Transcendor protect you.”
 
When the villagers left, silence returned to the valley, from the mountaintops to the deep valleys. Atop a hill of clean, white sand, Ulu etched a circle around himself with a trembling hand, and prepared for Unification.
 
“So many events transpired in this place, Transcendor, thousands of your children were saved from death! But they quickly moved on, before hearing the truth about you. I am once again alone. I do not understand what really transpired here, and what the future holds. I am doubtful, and remain with no strength or faith. I am so weary from this journey, Transcendor!  I need a healing touch, I desire to feel at peace.”

Ulu was silent for the next three hours. The next day, he arose and contemplated his path. All he could think about was his son.
 
“I must find him!”
 
He began marching towards the Towered City, gripped with doubt. It would not be difficult to enter, but finding Sage was to be a difficult task, and getting out of the City would be even harder.
 
The Tunnels of Time! thought Ulu. The exit from the City is marked there. Tzalaii told me that the cloak concealing the map had fallen into the hands of the Tower Warriors. If I can find it, I will be able to escape easily, without being discovered.  
 
Determined, Ulu set out on his journey: I will approach the Tower and allow the soldiers from the Base Level to discover me. Then, they will take me into the Tower, and I will ascertain Sage’s location. I will escape from them and rescue my son.
 
Two days later, as he marched alone along the Eastern Lowlands in the light of day, he was approached by the shaven-headed Tower soldiers.
 
“Identify yourself!” ordered one, as his comrades grasped the handles of their swords.
 
“I…I…I am but a villager,” stuttered Ulu. The soldiers did not waste time.  They arrested Ulu, shackled his hands and led him as a prisoner to the City.
“What an excellent way to enter the City!” thought Ulu.
 
When evening fell, the soldiers stopped to rest and eat near one of the bare hills.  They decided to entertain themselves with the captive villager. They unshackled him, offered him a drink, and then asked him, with concealed mockery: “Do you know how to play our game?”
 
Ulu continued pretending: “If you teach me the rules, perhaps I shall learn.”
 
One of the soldiers produced a red, wooden box and opened it up. He handed Ulu half of the ninety-eight game pieces and kept the rest for himself. For some reason, the board seemed larger and clumsier than Ulu recalled.
 
“I paid no less than fifty white coins for this game,” the soldier bragged to Ulu. Familiar with the coins used in the Tower, Ulu thought this price seemed astronomically high. 
 
“You are yellow and I am purple,” announced the soldier.  “Yellow always begins.”
There were one hundred and forty-seven squares on the open playing board, most were empty and a few had drawings of craters and thorns. One soldier remarked to Ulu, “This is the Game of Forces.”
 
“The Game of Forces?” Ulu pretended to wonder.
 
“Yes,” answered the soldier, “It is a game of battle between two forces.”
 
“The purple and the yellow?” questioned Ulu, and the soldiers burst into laughter.
 
Ulu glanced at the yellow pieces in front of him:  Fifteen warriors shaped like sword-wielding soldier pawns with arrow bags, ten WireArchers shaped like spiders, six Inviewers shaped like eagles, six Infiltrators shaped like chameleons, six Unifiers shaped like Octopi, five Extrappers shaped like foxes and one piece shaped like a serpent. 
 
According to the rules of the game, each player in turn may position one piece and move a second piece anywhere on the board    except on a crater or thorn square .The movement of the pieces on the board was confined to one square per direction. One piece could not be positioned without moving a second piece, nor could it be moved without being positioned.
 
A warrior could destroy an enemy piece only when joined with the power of five additional warriors, together forming two triangles positioned in the same direction. Alone, a warrior was useless.
 
A spider WireArcher could destroy an enemy piece from up to three squares away, when he was joined with the power of five additional WireArchers, together forming a crescent…
 
As the rules of the game were explained to him, Ulu’s eyes widened, as he feigned amazement. In order to understand the rules and to plan moves, a player must possess basic intelligence, which the Descendents of the Emperors did not attribute to the villager, and his humiliation would be their entertainment. In order to heighten their pleasure, the soldiers promised the winner a glass of their purple beverage, of the highest quality. The soldier was weary from explaining the rules of the game, and ended by stating sharply: “The snake, called the ‘head’, is the most important piece in the game. It is usually positioned in the headquarters. Once the ‘head’ is defeated, the game is over.”
 
“The game cannot continue without a ‘head,'” another soldier reiterated.
 
“But what does this ‘head’ do, besides hide in the headquarters?” questioned Ulu, angering the soldiers.
 
“The ‘head’ thinks and plans, of course!” said another soldier.
 
“The ‘head’ thinks?” asked Ulu, “but it is merely a game piece!”
 
The soldier sensed his mistake and corrected himself immediately: “I mean to say that the ‘head’ cannot actually fight, it simply must remain in the headquarters, and that is that,” he said apologetically, somewhat confused. “Let us begin.”
 
“One more thing,” he added. “At the start of the game, each player must place ten pieces on the board, according to his choice. In addition, he who loses either the ‘head’ or more than half of his pieces loses the game.”
 
Ulu looked at his pieces, as though attempting to recall the rules of the game. After a long, focused deliberation, he placed the ‘head’- the snake- at the front of the board, right in the center, next to three squares marked with craters, and behind him, in the rear row, he placed nine simple soldiers. The soldier from the Base Level was next, creating on the left angle of the board a star composed of five Extrappers, and then he scattered five additional pieces in various places on the board. That was the classic opening move of a skilled player, unlike the foolish moves chosen by the hapless prisoner.
 
But the soldiers slowly began to see that the captive villager was not as unskilled as they imagined.  He remembered the rules of the game and was able to competently escape most of his opponent’s traps. He managed to destroy the structures built by his opponent with quick and surprising moves.  The soldiers began regretting the promise of a prize for the winner.
 
Hours passed. The soldiers were fascinated with the prisoner’s skills. Ulu was not afraid to expose his abilities and hoped that this would convince them to treat him like a worthy prisoner and therefore assign him special guards in the Towered City. It was possible that his guards would be Inviewers,  knowledgeable about the Tower, and that he would be able to win them over and  pump them for information leading to his captive son and to the cloak.
 
But suddenly something unexpected occurred. His opponent, who was utterly exhausted from playing, stamped the ground angrily saying,  “That’s it, you have angered me!”
 
To Ulu’s surprise, the soldier proceeded to press a wooden button in the shape of a clover, embossed on the heavy side of the board, causing thin metal rods to emerge and create a complex metal mould. Ulu gazed at the complex structure in awe and discovered that the wooden surface on which he played was not really wood, but a surface made of very thin wood-like glass. Underneath, a third system appeared, containing square checkers.
 
Ulu controlled his breathing and attempted to regain his balance.
 
“The rules you are familiar with are old rules!” exclaimed the shaven-headed soldier arrogantly. “Today, the true battle is on three planes, not just one. And there are additional pieces that you are not familiar with.”
 
Ulu continued playing dumb, while quickly contemplating his new information. The soldier opened up a small, concealed wooden drawer at the bottom of the complex structure, and removed ten beautifully made shiny red glass horses. They looked as though they had frozen in place while galloping.  Ulu felt that he was watching live, dangerous creatures,  despite their miniature stature.
 
“But who do these red pieces belong to? For they are neither purple nor yellow…” Ulu asked, pretending he did not understand. The observing soldiers laughed hysterically at Ulu’s question.
 
“They belong to no one. They simply stand here, on the side,” explained the soldier as he arranged the horses around the game board. “And you have yet to see their riders.”
 
Something had gone wrong. Ulu’s training as a Warrior of Transcendence had not included this new information.
 
We learned that the Game of Forces reflects the abilities of the inhabitants of the Tower, pondered Ulu, and if this game differs from the other, then we really know nothing about their strategies! It is not possible that the Master of Transcendence is unaware of this…perhaps he didn’t want to dampen our spirits with this information? It is always better to know what we might face so that we can better prepare ourselves… Perhaps this is another trial, the kind in which a warrior must understand for himself what is required of him?
 
The soldier’s words echoed in Ulu’s mind, but he was unable to grasp their meaning: Today, the true battle is being run on three planes, not just one.  
 
Only one being would be able to explain what was transpiring here, and he was far beyond Fire Mountain. Now, Ulu had to learn the new rules of game and be prepared to report them to the Warriors of Transcendence, for use in time of need. But his thoughts were slow and confused, and his concentration was disturbed. Before he had a chance to decide where to move his pieces, the darkening skies put an end to the game.
 
The game caused the soldiers to be late and as soon as they noticed the growing darkness, they hurriedly gathered their game pieces, shackled Ulu’s arms and legs, placed him atop one of the horses and hurried to the Base Level. Ulu’s mind was racing, and he was unable to plan his strategy.   For a moment, he had the urge to activate his storm dance and cover everyone in a deadly cloud, but he decided to continue pretending.
 
With nightfall, a heaviness descended on Ulu and he found it impossible to recall any encouraging Memory Shields. The monotonous ride through the broad fields put Ulu to sleep, and when he awoke it was morning. An immense wall of fog limited visibility, and Ulu became petrified upon realizing how close they were to the Towered City.
 
The Warriors of Transcendence had always been baffled by the location of the entrance to the Towered City, since there were no apparent openings in the wall of fog, nor in the stone wall that had surrounded the City in the past. Now, as they approached the thick mist above the Steel Level, Ulu’s senses became sharpened as he attempted to understand the secret of the entrance.
 
They forgot to cover my eyes, thought Ulu, as he heard one of the soldiers proclaim: “To the bottom plane!”
 
The soldiers arranged themselves in the shape of a clover, just like the one that had caused the game to become three-dimensional, and Ulu felt himself being sucked into an inner world together with the soldiers. He tried hard to observe, but only saw a multitude of reflections of the rocks and earth on which they stood, before being swallowed into the bottom plane.
 
“To the White Emperor!” were the final words he heard before losing consciousness. He did not see the blue flames that had appeared on the soldiers’ capes.
 
To be continued.
 

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Purchase Warriors of Transcendence online at a special discount for Breslev Israel readers here.

With sincere gratitude to www.levhadvarim.com.

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