Bucephalus and Alexander
Reigns of Fate
The precious makes you soft. The atrocious makes you hard. Life is in a constant tug of warfare between the feminine and masculine which way to bend and mold you. Since birth you were in zugzwang.
Only Alexander could tame Bucephalus. Not everyone is touched by the Gods. A mighty steed for your chariot, for war might be something you want, but it's not something that wants you. Fate ensures we all die empty handed, but the chosen just have more to resign.
Further chess knots:
