//------------------------------// // Chapter Seven: The Tournament // Story: Sisters at Heart // by Lunatone //------------------------------// Sisters at Heart Lunatone Chapter Seven The Tournament The next morning, as Dusty severed toast and brewed tea for breakfast, Vinyl was telling me about a dream she had last night. It was related to the things we had talked about in the last few days. Luckily for us, however, Jazzmere wasn’t at the table. “We were about fifteen years older, and it was our wedding day. Dusty, Bon Bon, Jazzmere, and other family members were there,” she said. “Your father was so proud to see you walk down the aisle, smiling. I think I even saw him cry out of happiness. Who knows.” She spread marmalade jam on her toast and poured a cup of tea, after which she put at least five spoonfuls of sugar into it and blew. “So everypony sat quietly as we said nice things to each other, and then as we kissed in front of everypony, they cheered and clapped. “We walked down the aisle to leave, and flower petals were being thrown at us. I guess it was a thing they did. Anyway, your father was so happy to see you married to somepony you loved so much.” “But my father would hate the idea of us being together. He doesn’t even know that we have a thing going on between us.” Dusty sat at the table, reticently, chewing away at his toast as he listened to us talk. Vinyl took a sip of her tea, then said, “It’s a dream, Octy. A dream that will come true one day. Even if your father doesn’t accept it, he will one day. Okay, so where was I?” Her voice was confident as could be. “Oh, yeah, after dinner time, we danced to a song you wrote just for me. I forget what it was called, but it was super awesome.” “What did it sound like?” I asked her, taking a bite of my toast. She shrugged and took periodic sips from her tea. “I dunno. I was hoping you’d tell me.” “I would love to answer that question for you, but I can’t.” “Sure you can! You just gotta think.” I sipped some of Vinyl’s tea. She didn’t seem to mind. “Hmm… well, I suppose it would sound pleasant, soft, relaxing. Something you’d hear at a wedding.” “Yeah, that’s how it totally was. See. I knew you could think of it.” She kissed me on my cheek, and I felt my face getting warmer. “You know, between me and the two of you,” Dusty said, a smile crossing his face, “both of you are, like, perfect for each other. And I mean that in every positive way I can think of.” “Aww, Dad,” Vinyl said, her voice hinting the slightest bit of embarrassment. “Octavia and I will always be together.” “Always,” I said, feeling somewhat embarrassed, too. “As long as you two are happy, so am I.” Dusty got up and took our empty plates. Dusty always understood me. Sometimes I thought my father was blind while Dusty wasn’t.   § Later in the year, after I finished school, summer came into the calendar. Vinyl and I had a daily routine: Step out of the house early in the morning, our manes still looking like birds' nests, inhaling the fresh, warm summer air. Everything outside, the trees, bushes, the grass, and flowers had bloomed, alive and vibrant. I grinned at it all. The sky was clear, birds flying high, and the sun shone so bright, my eyes burned even when I wasn’t looking at it directly. I stepped down the small staircase, and Vinyl followed me. Summer had to be everypony's favourite season. Why wouldn’t it be? Warm weather for an entire two months, as well as the fun summer activities. Sure, summer had its occasional downfalls with a few days of rain, but it always made up for it with the weather. In the summer, Vinyl and I always went outside to enjoy the season, though sometimes our separate responsibilities got in the way of us spending time together. But that was never a problem. Ever. For a few unfortunate fillies, however, summer didn’t suppress the end of the school year. Some fillies failed classes in either first or second semester, and they have to attend summer school to make up for the poor grade. Luckily for me, though, I wasn’t one of them. Could there be any doubt? I heard rumours that certain ponies would volunteer to redo a course in the summer so they could improve their grade. Jazzmere didn’t enrol me in summer school, and I was grateful for that. I loved summer in Manehattan, as did Vinyl. I really adored the way nature showed its pulchritude. I loved the season for the flowery smell it left in the air, the way the wind felt, the way warmth sank into my fur as I sat in the backyard, accompanied by Vinyl. But I liked summer mostly because we could sit under our yew tree, eat the ripe arils that grew on it, and read together. That was something I really loved doing with her. But I also hated summer. Jazzmere was always more distant to me when summertime came. He had told me before that summer was the time he had to use to compose a series of songs for contests in the fall. Hence his reasoning for not spending time with me. A part of me wretched with pain and sadness for not being able to spend time with my father, but spending time with Vinyl healed that part of me, and that was something I could never put a price on. Ever. If I was being honest with myself, I would rather spend time with Vinyl than my father. And that was the truth of it all. § According to Dusty, Manehattan held an annual chess tournament in the city’s memorial park during the summer. Based off his knowledge of it, if you were competing in that tournament, you better be well-prepared, for that day was undeniably the highlight of the warm season. He said that it was a difficult competition to win, but it wasn’t impossible by any means. Currently, Vinyl, Dusty, and I were seated in the living room. He was telling us more details about the event. “I competed in that chess tournament twice, back when I was fifteen years old, and lost both times. The night before, I would roll from side to side, grunting in frustration, trying to fall asleep. It felt like I was at war, trying to sleep in the madness. And it wasn’t so far off. Chess is war, and, like any war, you have to prepare yourself for battle. “I gave it my best and made it to the semifinals the first time I competed. But then a better player made me look like an amateur. It was really embarrassing, but I kept my chin up and tried again next year, only to be defeated yet again. It’s a tough tournament, but if you have faith in yourself, you will do just fine.” From what he had told us, all the chess games Vinyl and I played felt like they were only paltry trials compared to the competition. And I saw a dubious look in Vinyl’s face, making me want to enforce her confidence to restoration. “So do you think Vinyl could compete in the tournament?” I asked, glancing over at her. “She is really good at chess.” “Yeah, Dad. I beat Octavia over twenty times in a row.” Despite her remark, I didn’t feel embarrassed. I didn’t feel embarrassed because it was the truth. Had Vinyl been humble about her wins, I would’ve been embarrassed then. “I don’t see why not,” Dusty said, smiling. “Anything for you, Vinyl.” “Awesome! Thanks, Daddy.” Vinyl rushed over, wrapping her hooves around her father. “No problem.” He drew back from the hug. “I believe the tournament starts today, actually. And it isn’t too late to sign up for it. We should head out now if we are going to make it.” “All right, let’s get this show on the road,” Vinyl said, her voice uproarious. I think Dusty was wrong about the being well-prepared thing. § I had never seen so many ponies at the Manehattan Memorial park. Fillies were running around screaming, playing, chasing one another, giggling. By the looks of it, the chess competitors were trying to meditate in an isolated area of the park, preparing their minds for the tournament. From afar, I could hear drums and trombones. Seats were placed around the competitors’ tables, where they would eventually falter to either a win or a loss.   Dusty and Vinyl went to register for the competition, while I was in charge of getting a front row seat, so I could look at Vinyl, smile at her, hoping that she would win it all, even though she barely had any practice or preparation. Nevertheless, I believed in her, believed that she would come out of this tourney victorious. By the time I had managed to get a good seat, I had heard Vinyl calling my name from afar. Her face was beaming with happiness, and, when she stepped up to me, I smiled back. “So, did you get in?” “Yup,” she said, waving her ticket in the air. “Turns out there are only eight competitors, me being one of them.” “We got to the registration booth just in time, too,” Dusty said, catching up. “I was surprised we even made it.” “Well that’s great,” I said. “Yup,” Vinyl said.  “Can I ask you something, Octavia?” “You can tell me anything, Vinyl.” “Will you be disappointed in me if I lose?” My smiled faltered, lost all its momentum, because of Vinyl’s question. “No, I won’t be disappointed. I would have no reason to. Forget about what others would think if you lost. It’s not always about winning. Sometimes it’s about passion and perseverance. And you have that. And you should never forget that.” Vinyl’s face brightened. “I’m ready to do it.” “Good,” I said. After our little moment, we heard the official chess adjudicator call out the competitors’ names, Vinyl being one of the callouts. “Good luck,” I said. “Give it your best, supergirl,” Dusty said shortly after. Vinyl closed her eyes. Nodded. And off she went. I looked at the other competitors making their way to the tables, a dubious expression marking their faces. “Go get em, Vinyl.” § It was an hour into the tournament, and Vinyl had made it to the semi-final round. Right now, the current champion, Pawny, was in session, trying to advance to the semifinals. Since there were eight competitors, four would make it to the semifinals, and the two would make it to the finals. In other words, as Dusty had put it, the semifinals were the free-for-all part of the competition. When Vinyl was competing, she had eliminated at least one third of her opponent’s pieces about six minutes into the game. She was like a fierce shark, roaming for prey. Within twelve minutes, Vinyl had defeated her opponent and advanced to the semifinals. I had wanted to go and congratulate her for her win, but spectators were prohibited from contacting the competitors for the prospect of cheating. Currently, Vinyl was seated on a bench, not too far from the tables. We exchanged smiles and even kisses. I didn’t care if I looked silly, though. I only cared about Vinyl’s being. Soon, the semifinals began, and my eyes were glued to Vinyl. To her luck, she wasn’t going up against the champion. She was playing a pony named Icicle Spears, a stallion regarded as a well-renowned chess player back in his day. Vinyl was thinking hard, her hoof rubbing her chin. I could tell that she had a plan already laid out to defeat her opponent. Within six minutes, Vinyl had accumulated a few pawns, a rook, two knights, and a bishop from her opponent, while he had a couple pawns, one knight, and one rook. I kept stealing glances between them, wondered what Icicle had planned for her. They were moving their pieces all over the place now: Vinyl was advancing her knights and rooks, while Icicle advanced his pawns to charge forward. My eyes kept wandering over Vinyl, still thinking intuitively of the next move she should make. “You know,” Dusty whispered to me, “Icicle has himself in a frizzle. If he slips up with one pawn, it is game over for him.” “Really?” I asked quietly, looking at Dusty. “Indeed. We’ll just have to wait and see what his next move is.” I snapped my attention back to Vinyl, who now had Icicle’s queen. Vinyl had eliminated it with her bishop, essentially putting a hazardous factor in Icicle’s side. I averted to Vinyl’s competitor and noticed him shaking slightly. The queen, arguably, was one of the most valuable pieces a chess player could have; and by its elimination it would certainly put a dent in the player’s ability to defend the king. He moved another pawn, and it opened the line for his king to be checked. I focused back at Vinyl. She was moving a rook to check her opponent’s king, only to realize that his king was unable to move because of the knight and bishop that was close to his king. Vinyl eyed the board, only to realize that she checkmated her opponent’s king. Grinning, she then said, snarly, “Checkmate.” The adjudicator came by to inspect the play, and, after he did, he declared Vinyl a finalist in the tournament. Everypony, including myself and Dusty, cheered, applauded for her victory. We were, however, asked to quiet it down, since the last two competitors were battling it out to get a seat in the finals. An array of emotions thundered inside me as I stared at Vinyl, her face beaming with awe. I knew she could do it. And I knew she would beat the champion. § By the time the finals came into action, it had to be past three o’clock as the sun was well past its highest point. The array of emotions I had experienced earlier never dwindled or lost momentum, only gained thence. There was only one thing I wanted to do right now: Run on over and give Vinyl the biggest hug she had ever received from me. But I had to will myself from doing it, for the sake of rules. Within thirty minutes, the finals began and it was now or never. I knew this part of the tournament would take a while because every move each player made had to be done carefully because the last two competitors, Vinyl and Pawny, were good; they wouldn’t easily fall into simple traps like the knight storming its way up to eliminate the queen and rook. Fifty minutes later, the number of surviving pieces diminished significantly. Vinyl had collected at least six pawns, one knight, two bishops, and, surprisingly, both rooks, while Pawny managed to collect six pawns, and one knight. I pondered how he had so few pieces, considering that he was titled champion. Perhaps it was Vinyl’s tactical strategy she used. Right now, it was Vinyl’s turn and she was thinking hard, as per usual. Then I noticed a small frantic look cross her face, which was the start of my momentum dying. Without any doubts, she looked right at me, smiled. I returned the smiled back and gave her a nod of enlightenment, encouragement. It was then when she regained all her lost momentum and dived back into the game. Picking up the pace, Vinyl advanced her queen to check Pawny’s king. I snapped my attention to Pawny who had a look of horror on his face. “Look at his side, Octavia,” Dusty said to me, “right now, he can kill Vinyl’s queen with his knight, but, in doing so, he will lose his own queen because of Vinyl’s rook placement.” I nodded and focused back to the game. Dusty knew the game quite well, and I couldn’t deny that. The tension in the air was as taut as the distance between Vinyl and Pawny. He had a look of annoyance, almost anger on his face. Vinyl was getting to him, and it was working quite well. He made a rash move by killing Vinyl’s queen, which resulted in him also losing his queen. He then eliminated Vinyl’s rook with his king. I then saw Vinyl smirking like a cheeky imp. Vinyl eliminated Pawny’s knight with her bishop, essentially leaving him with only pawns and a king. He tried to move a pawn forward, but it was in vain. After he did that, Vinyl moved her left rook all the way to the other side, ultimately putting his king in checkmate. It turned out that Vinyl’s bishops and her last knight were in the perfect places to render a checkmate. Vinyl grinned once more and called it. “Checkmate!” Everypony in the crowd gasped in surprise, awe, and inspiration. The adjudicator came to the table and examined the board. Then he said, “And the winner of this year’s chess tournament is Vinyl! Congratulations!” I cheered, jumped, and yelled aloud for her feat. Dusty did the same, as did everypony for that matter. I hurried forward to Vinyl, and I couldn’t help but show her a smile, give her a warm hug. “You did it, Vinyl! You won!” “Hell yeah, I did!” she said loudly. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Octy. Thank you.” “Always.” § Later that night, after we had eaten dinner, Vinyl and I nested in the living room. Her head was on my chest, and I was stroking her mane. Jazzmere was still in his study, and, by the looks of it, he never left since we departed earlier today. He had no clue of what had happened today, what its significance was. But that was all right. Because I knew of it, as did Dusty. And that was all that mattered.