Teachings of the Magician...

The night before the tournament:

The tournament was only hours away, but the fear didn't come from the idea of losing—it came from not understanding the fire inside him. The fire that burned every time he moved a piece. Every time he imagined the impossible.

He looked at the board, at the black and white battlefield that had become a part of him, and whispered:

"I don't want to play safe. I don't want to just win."

He leaned forward, eyes burning.

"I want to understand. I want to know what he saw. The things Tal saw in the game… in the sacrifice… in chaos."

His voice trembled—not from fear, but hope.

"Please... if you're listening—if you're the one who's been helping me—then let me speak to him".I want to ask him. Just once. Just a glimpse."

The flame above flickered violently, and the room grew colder—not sharply, but like the air had been drained, replaced by something ancient.

From the edge of the shadows, a presence stirred.

The Shadow Man emerged—not like before, not just as a watcher—but like a gatekeeper to something greater.

He stepped forward, the folds of his cloak sweeping silently over the floor, and looked down at Alexei.

"You ask much, young player," he said, voice like thunder wrapped in silk. "Do you know what it means to speak with a soul still echoing through time?"

Alexei didn't look away.

"I don't want tricks. I don't want answers given. I want to learn what it means to be like him. I want to feel what he felt. I want to know what the sacrifice truly costs."

The room fell silent.

The board began to hum—a low, resonant sound, like distant strings being plucked.

The Shadow Man slowly raised a hand, and the space above the chessboard began to ripple like water. A shimmer, a fracture in reality.

"Very well," he said.

"But understand this: you are not meeting a ghost.You are stepping into a memory. A moment in time where genius and madness met and did not flinch.Ask your questions wisely. For not all answers bring peace."

Alexei nodded.

He wasn't afraid.

Not now.

The rippling light above the board grew brighter—and as it did, a silhouette began to form.

Slouched. Cigarette in hand.Eyes like dark stars, flicking across an invisible position on a board only he could see.

A voice echoed, rich and amused:

"Ah… so the boy finally wants to talk."

Mikhail Tal had entered the dream.

The shimmer above the chessboard swirled like mist in reverse—pulling time inward. And then, the shape emerged.

He wasn't quite real, but he wasn't illusion either.

A man sat at a board—not the one in Alexei's home, but an old tournament table, worn from battles long passed. His hair curled around his forehead, eyes dark and dancing with mischief, and in his fingers… a cigarette that never burned.

Mikhail Tal leaned forward, smiling as if he'd been expecting this moment all along.

"So… the boy with fire in his blood speaks at last."

Alexei's breath caught. He tried to speak, but words felt too small.

"I—I'm not sure what to say."

Tal chuckled, low and melodic.

"That's already better than most grandmasters."

The room—or whatever dream-space they stood in—shifted gently. It wasn't a room anymore. It was memory, smoke, and the quiet tap of chess clocks ticking in a hundred timelines.

Alexei swallowed hard.Then asked the only question that truly burned inside him.

"How did you know when to sacrifice? When no one else saw the move, how did you see it?"

Tal leaned back, eyes narrowing like a cat watching a bird flutter too close.

"Ah… the forbidden question."

He motioned toward the board between them. A new position unfolded. Complex. Violent. Alive.

"What do you see?"

Alexei stared. He saw chaos. Pieces out of place. An undefended rook. A king exposed. Nothing made sense.

"It's… messy."

Tal nodded slowly.

"Exactly. It is not pretty. It is not safe. But inside it lies brilliance—if you're willing to bleed for it."

He moved a knight—not defensively, not logically—but deep into enemy lines.

"A sacrifice is not about giving away a piece.""It's about giving up control."

Alexei looked at the board again. His instincts twitched. He saw what Tal meant: behind the apparent madness… there was something. A thread.

"But what if I'm wrong?"

Tal grinned.

"Then you learn faster. Fear is the slowest teacher."

He leaned closer, voice low and electric:

"Let me tell you a secret, Alexei."

Alexei held his breath.

"The best moves in chess don't make sense. Not at first. They feel like whispers. A glimpse of something impossible.""The great ones? They follow the whisper—even if it leads to fire."

There was a pause. The dream grew darker, quieter, heavier.

"But it comes with a price. I played like fire… and I burned."

Alexei felt it—not just the words, but the weight behind them. Sacrifices not just on the board. But in life. In health. In everything.

"Do you still think you want this?" Tal asked softly.

Alexei looked him in the eyes.And nodded.

"Yes. I don't just want to win. I want to understand. I want to see the board… like you did."

Tal smiled for real now—like something had been passed, torch to torch.

"Then listen carefully, young magician."

He leaned forward, fingers brushing the board. The pieces rearranged themselves, faster than Alexei could track.

A new position settled.

"This is your first lesson. Solve it. Not with moves. Not with logic. With your gut."

"I'll be watching."

The torchlight flickered.

Tal began to fade, smoke drifting from the unlit cigarette in his fingers.

"And Alexei?"

The boy looked up.

"The board will lie to you. Trust your fire more than your fear."

Then he was gone.

The clock ticked once.

And Alexei opened his eyes, breathless, as the torchlight buzzed above and the chessboard gleamed like a secret waiting to be told.