The Little Chess Player and the Magic Cottage | TaleTreasury

Christmas was finally here! Little Harry could barely contain his excitement as he danced around the house, his eyes sparkling with joy. The living room was bathed in the glow of colorful lights, and beneath the towering Christmas tree sat a collection of beautifully wrapped presents. The air smelled of pine, spices, and something magical.

As Harry admired the gifts, his loyal husky, Edmon, wagged his tail and barked playfully.
“Come on, my little friend! Let’s go for a walk in the snow,” Harry exclaimed, patting Edmon’s head.

Edmon barked again, his warm brown eyes full of enthusiasm.
“Mom, I’m taking Edmon for a walk!” Harry called out.

“Don’t stay out too long, Harry. I’m preparing Christmas dinner. And remember, gifts will be opened tonight!” his mother reminded him from the kitchen.

Harry grinned and, with a cheerful whistle, dashed outside with Edmon. The snow blanketed everything in soft white, and the forest nearby looked like a scene from a winter fairy tale. The pine trees stood tall, heavy with snow, and the river hummed a low, enchanting melody.

Edmon led the way, sniffing and barking as he ran. But suddenly, he stopped near the riverbank, his ears pricked and his fur bristled. Curious, Harry hurried to his side. That’s when he noticed faint little footprints in the snow—tiny steps that didn’t look like they belonged to any animal he knew. Ahead of them stood a narrow, snow-covered bridge.

“Edmon, what’s wrong? What are you sensing, my friend?” Harry asked, his voice laced with worry.

Despite the cold biting at their cheeks, Harry’s curiosity pushed him forward. He carefully stepped onto the bridge, glancing at the stream below that carried twigs and bits of ice along its winding path. Edmon followed, still alert and cautious.

Once they crossed, Edmon bolted ahead, as though chasing an invisible force. Harry struggled to keep up but eventually caught sight of Edmon sniffing around a tall, thick fence of pine trees. Suddenly, a streak of light—fast as lightning—flashed before their eyes and disappeared behind the fence.

Drawn by both fear and wonder, Harry squeezed through a gap that Edmon had made in the dense pines. They found themselves in front of a curious cottage, built from large, uneven stones. Warm light spilled from its windows, and the air was thick with the scent of burning wood.

Bravely, Harry pushed open the heavy wooden door, Edmon at his side. The cottage was cozy, with a grand fireplace crackling invitingly. An old man, small in stature with twinkling eyes, welcomed them with a friendly smile.

“Come in, warm yourselves by the fire,” the old man said kindly. “I’m Leo, the master of this cottage. And who might you be?”

“I’m Harry, and this is my best friend Edmon. We stumbled upon your cottage after following some strange lights,” Harry explained.

Leo chuckled warmly. Just then, a small monkey leapt from the rafters onto Harry’s head, making the boy yelp in surprise.
“Gabby! Behave! These are our guests,” Leo scolded gently.

The monkey, Gabby, climbed onto Leo’s shoulder, chattering playfully. The trio soon sat at a small wooden table adorned with a chessboard of gold and black squares. The tea that Leo served smelled of flowers, and Edmon munched on treats that Leo kindly provided.

As they warmed up, Harry’s curiosity got the best of him. “Grandpa Leo, how did you come to live here with just a monkey?”

Leo smiled. “That’s quite the story, my boy. Many years ago, when I was about your age, my homeland was invaded. I fled to the mountains and found refuge in a cave with an old hermit who taught me the oldest game in the world—chess.”

“Chess? That’s the oldest game?” Harry asked in awe.

“Yes, indeed. The old man also gave me a book called Persian Tales, filled with wisdom and stories. When I returned home, I discovered my family had survived. My father welcomed me with open arms, and I shared with them everything I had learned.”

Leo continued, “Soon after, the new King announced a challenge: anyone who could best him at the oldest game would be rewarded. I went to the castle with my chessboard, and though the guards mocked me, the King invited me in. We played for hours. I nearly lost, but I asked permission to win.”

“Why would you ask permission to win?” Harry asked, puzzled.

“Because, in chess, when you win, you declare ‘Checkmate,’ which means ‘The King is dead.’ I didn’t want to disrespect the King. He was so impressed with my wisdom that he granted me longevity and gifted me Gabby, the royal monkey.”

Harry’s eyes sparkled. “Grandpa Leo, can you teach me to play chess?”

“Of course, my boy,” Leo agreed, showing Harry the chess pieces, their names, and how they moved.

Harry tried to memorize the rules, but time flew by, and evening fell. The wind howled outside, and the snow deepened.
“Time to go home, Harry. It’s Christmas Eve,” Leo said gently.

“I promise to come back and play chess with you again!” Harry declared.

Leo hugged him, patted Edmon, and sent them on their way. Edmon, as if sensing the right path, led Harry safely back across the bridge and through the snowy forest. When they arrived home, Harry’s mother fussed over him.

“Where have you been? You could have gotten lost!” she scolded.

“Mom, it was the most magical walk ever! I’ll tell you all about it after dinner,” Harry promised.

That night, as the Christmas tree sparkled, Harry’s father handed him a special gift wrapped in gold paper with a blue ribbon. Harry tore it open eagerly—and there it was, a beautiful wooden chessboard with gold and black squares.

“Chess! The clever game of the mind!” Harry shouted with delight.

His parents watched, surprised by his excitement.
“And you know what?” Harry said with a grin. “I don’t want to be a King. I just want to play the wise game of chess—and someday, I’ll say checkmate with pride!”