To the Two-Faced Daemon, the Cowardly Lion, the Dorothy, the Tin-Man, the blood brothers of Cutting and Chance, the scientists and the fools (one and the same), Nothing, Everything, to the Entrance of Light, the Found Pastor, the Puppet/eer, the White Knight, the Riddling Chessmaster, and every other liar, idiot, and murderer that can be found in opposition to the story.
The Players
The White King, our lord and saviour, he who needs no introduction.
The Mother, who, when she was young, ran through the muggy jungle, pursued by a tall man with four arms and no face, who, she knew, made red flowers from the blood of young innocents.
The Barrister, who, when he was older, let a child die for the sake of a spider, watched many die by its hands, who, he knows, is pursuing the result of his own actions.
The Fighter, who, at this moment, plays a dangerous game, without knowing the pieces or the plans of others, who, she knows, can't possibly win.
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