Silhouetted against the clouds, a poisoned black dove awaits a target.

A lingering moment of a struggle lies behind a body that is squeezed between rocks and pebbles, flowing fluidly over their smooth skins.

He clutches a sword, his chainmail glinting and hinting at the proud sternum’s cross. His eyes pierce the clouds to fix on the poised bird above.

Hands clasped in prayer hold warmth and promise safe from the tyrannous sea. Hope is saved in life’s palms.

A pale-masked figure invades the beach now. A column of dark stone, silencing the sea. The figure strikes the eye of the knight; the mask a contorted face of glinting anger, directed to all – sea; sky; human.

The two crouch to take up their places by the chessboard. The pieces have remained in place since their last meeting; now they become alive again, battling and colliding.