Laufa, the Chess Machine

The Krastas College of War. January 7, 1435.

Laufa traced the teal petals with her fingertips. Of all the busywork at the Royal College, tending to the stena-infused plants was the only part she actually enjoyed.

She knelt down beside a patch of them in the College courtyard. The air in the courtyard was always cool, and the flowers seemed to glow against the mountain’s shadows.

The lectors said that, like sunflowers pointed towards the sun, these pointed towards stena deposits deep within the Lodrian Wall, though the veins here had been mostly mined out. The petals were strange too, twisting into weird, fractal-like patterns. But they smelled amazing.

It was one of the only peaceful spots in the College. At least, it was.

“Would you consider yourself a gambler, Laufa?”

Laufa pushed herself up to her feet. “It feels like I can’t go anywhere without you showing up, Lady Eralia…”

“Eralia,” she corrected. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

Laufa faced the noble girl. “Definitely not, no.” She let out a short breath. “I’ve had nothing but bad luck here.” Her eyes returned to Eralia, who kept her hands tucked behind her back.

“Fortunately for you.” Eralia brought out a folded object. “There’ll be no luck involved.”

“...Chess?” Laufa stared at the board tucked under Eralia’s arm.

Eralia seized her wrist and pulled her towards a nearby table. Her hand-holding ability was actually improving. It was still a bit too tight for comfort, sure, but at least this time Laufa could feel her own fingers.

She motioned for Laufa to sit at the other side and unfolded the chessboard. The wooden set clapped against the stone table. Its small pieces rattled, carved from dark spruce and a lighter pine.

Laufa slid onto the stone bench across from Eralia, the pleasant smell of the courtyard flowers lingering.

“Which set would you like?” Eralia began arranging the pieces. “I’ll choose—”

White goes first, right? Laufa leaned forward. “Whi—”

“—Lodran.” Eralia’s head tilted. “What was that?”

“I—I said you should pick first, obviously!” Laufa nodded frantically. “I guess, since you choose Lodran, then I’ll take…” She trailed off.

Eralia’s hand froze, suspending a piece between her fingers mid-air. She stared at Laufa with an intense look, even scarier than usual.

For a second, Laufa was sure Eralia could see right through her. That she knew all about Earth and how Laufa didn’t belong here. That she was nothing but an imposter.

A cold bead of sweat dripped down Laufa’s neck.

Then, Eralia casually set the piece down.

“Ah, of course.” Eralia’s expression suddenly smoothed. “Chess sets are rather expensive, aren’t they? They must be something of a luxury in the Commons.”

“Right! Yes, exactly that!”

Laufa’s shoulders slumped. As if! Please, just don’t pry any further…

* * *

Eralia sat back. “Does that make sense?”

Laufa’s head spun. It was chess, but it was also definitely not chess. Sure, all the basics were there, kings, queens, bishops. But then there was a bearer piece! To top it all off, each nation had a different set: the Garath Empire had two knights, but Lodran had none, but Lodran had two bearers, while Garath didn’t have any, and the Welkin tribes had four bearers, and—

There’s way too many numbers!

“Ah. Sure, I think?” Not. Laufa reached for the Garath pieces. “I’ll just use these.”

If she’d actually understood the rules, that set should’ve been the same as Earth’s.

The Garath pieces felt heavy and expensive, with their detailed carvings of ships and mermaids. Eralia’s set was just as fancy, and her bearer pieces were even topped with small stena gemstones.

“Perfect!” Eralia smiled. Her grin was still a little creepy, but Laufa was getting used to it. “Since I chose Lodran, I’ll open.”

Eralia slid a pawn forward with a clack. “But first, should we make this match more interesting?”

“When you say it like that, it sounds scary.” Laufa’s face scrunched.

“There’s nothing scary about a wager.” Eralia leaned forward. “Besides, I’ll let you in on a secret. I’m terrible at chess.”

“Right.” Laufa rolled her eyes. “And I’m Teldrus’s favourite student.” She grabbed a pawn.

“I’m quite serious,” Eralia said. “I had more practical uses for my time than studying chess theory.”

“But,” Laufa said, her pawn hovering above the board. “What’s in it for me?”

“The final trial,” Eralia said. “I’ll tell you my entire strategy.”

“What!? You haven’t told anyone!” Laufa’s head jerked up. “Hold on. What if I lose?”

“Then you’re mine for the trial,” she said. “You’ll follow my every command, no questions asked.”

“Now I’m definitely scared.”

“You know you can trust me.”

Laufa chuckled. “News to me.”

Eralia only smiled in response.

Laufa should’ve said no. But knowing Eralia, she was already involved in whatever plan she’d thought up. And I’d rather know what’s coming than get blindsighted…

“Fine,” Laufa sighed. She set the pawn down, copying Eralia’s opening. “Deal.”

The game started simply enough. Laufa advanced her pieces carefully, pure defense. She didn’t have any openings memorised, but she at least knew to aim for the centre of the board.

Eralia watched as Laufa captured a piece. “You’re better than I expected for a novice.”

Eralia played with an unnerving precision, sacrificing pawn after pawn just to take control of the board. Two pieces would fall, only for a third to open a line of attack. And the bearers were throwing Laufa off, too. They could move in every single direction like a king, or with the flick of Eralia’s fingers, they’d leap two squares diagonally to snatch a bishop that’d seemed perfectly safe.

Laufa had never been a grandmaster or anything, but her defenses felt especially useless when Eralia could jump over them.

The other disciples in the courtyard suddenly quieted.

“—And see to it that the northern depot is doubly stocked.” A stern voice passed their table.

Laufa froze. It was Warden Rustes. A quartermaster hurried behind him, rubbing a black-stained rag between their palms.

What’s he doing here? Are they preparing for the trial?

The Warden stopped. The moment he did, a leathery musk immediately overpowered the sweet, floral air. His gaze fell to the board before wandering to Eralia.

“Disciple Adeus.” He nodded.

Eralia stood up from the stone bench and bowed. “An honour, Warden. Quartermaster.”

The Warden lowered his hand. “It seems you missed an opportunity to capture, Adeus.” He traced one of her rooks with his gauntlet.

Eralia studied the board for a moment before nodding. “Indeed, I completely missed it.”

“Your lectors mentioned you possess an eccentric knack for strategy. Perhaps they were mistaken?” He turned away, his gaze sweeping past Laufa completely. “In any case, history has taught us the consequences of gambling Lodran lives on eccentricities. Our frontier graveyards have no shortage of clever strategists.”

The Warden stepped away, his hand falling to the pommel at his hip. The thudding of their boots faded down the courtyard path. He might be even scarier than Eralia.

Eralia’s attention returned to the table. “It’s your move, Laufa.”

* * *

“Isn’t it impressive?” Eralia nudged a pawn forward. “Even the smallest piece can become a queen.”

She was right. In only a couple moves, Eralia would have two queens on the board, and the whole game would be over.

One of Eralia’s bearers jumped over a pawn, pinning Laufa’s king. Then the rooks cut her escape. Her king couldn’t move. Her knights were trapped, too. It felt like every move led to a checkmate.

Every move, except…

Laufa’s fingers trembled. She slid her queen across the board, stopping it just in front of Eralia’s pawn, completely undefended.

Eralia’s hand hesitated as she studied the board.

“...A blunder.” She captured the queen with a pawn. “Your move.”

Laufa looked down. “I don’t have one.”

Eralia’s brow tightened. She leaned forward, her eyes sweeping across the board. They landed on Laufa’s king. It couldn’t move left or right because of the bearers, and it couldn’t move forward because of Eralia’s own king. It wasn’t in check, but every possible square it could move to was threatened. There wasn’t a single legal move.

She’d caused a stalemate.

Eralia leaned back. “Interesting!” A genuine chuckle escaped her. It might’ve been the first time she’d actually laughed.

“I guess I won’t get to hear your strategy, after all.” Laufa shrugged.

“Not quite,” Eralia began sweeping pieces off the table. “We both lost the game, so I suppose we’ll both have to offer concessions.”

The pieces clattered into the foldable set.

Huh? Laufa’s head jerked back.

She slammed her hands onto the table and shot to her feet. “This was your plan the whole time!”

“Don’t be silly,” Eralia said. “I told you I was terrible at chess.”

* * *

The Lodrian Wall Foothills. February 2, 1435.

Blades of grass whipped across Laufa’s legs as a cold wind swept through the field. The weeds were tall, reaching all the way up to her waist, and annoyingly rubbed against her cloak.

The troops whispered around her, over a hundred disciples large, their training piercers clinking in sheaths. It was finally time. The final trial.

She glanced behind their army. At the head of their command was Lady… Captain Eralia on horseback. Laufa had always imagined riding a horse would be a messy affair, rearing to-and-fro, but with Eralia, it was almost graceful. Maybe the horse was as scared of her as everybody else was, because it hadn’t so much as neighed.

A Lodran banner soared behind Eralia, slotted into a leather socket on the horse’s back. Its golden fabric gleamed against the cloudy, grey sky and wooden supply depot behind them.

Laufa surveyed the troops as she shuffled towards the frontlines. ‘Surveyed’ made her sound intelligent, but really, she was just trying to copy everyone else. Earth’s last war was, like, twenty years ago. How should I know what to do?

She practised flickering small manra lights in front of her, meanwhile. Mordhun could make precise barriers appear and disappear in an instant. That first part was still impossible for her, but she’d become a little better at the second: making them disappear. Instead of holding the manra, she just had to let go, like flicking a flashlight on and off.

Easier said than done, though. Manra had a mind of its own. For whatever reason, it’d chosen to burst out of her during that ceremony. That was the only reason she was standing here, and not in the infantry line.

The blue light snuffed out of existence.

The infantry… She remembered the real Laufa’s brother, the one she’d left behind, destined for the frontlines. If stealing this body was her crime, then that power was something like a cruel reward.

But most of the time, it felt more like a curse.

A piercer plunked to the ground, interrupting her rambling thoughts, and she bent to pick it up. Her fingers closed around the now-muddy pommel as her head bumped into someone else’s on the way back up.

“Ack—” Laufa yelped, a hand flying to her forehead. “Sorry!”

“No, no, my apologies,” a panicked voice replied. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, just…” Laufa’s eyes lifted from the ground up to a familiar face. “Nachkt!?”

Nachkt winced, rubbing his own forehead. “It’s you?” He froze. “...You know my name?”

“I…” She trailed off. They’d only met once. Was that creepy?

“—That’s right, the first trial, of course you do. I didn’t think you’d remember me, though.” His hand moved to scratch the back of his neck.

“How would I not!?” Laufa’s voice came out louder than she’d meant. “You saved me!”

A nearby disciple shot them an annoyed look.

“Saved you?” Nachkt took a step back, shaking his head. “No, you saved me, that was entirely my fault. Rather, I nearly got you eliminated…”

“No, it wasn’t your fault at all!” She waved her hands. “Oh, I’m Laufa, by the way.”

Nachkt blinked slowly. “That goes without saying, doesn’t it? After that last trial, I’m sure everybody here knows your name.”

“Right…” Laufa flushed. “Ah, here!” She wiped the hilt and shoved the weapon back into his hands.

A horn bellowed across the field, signalling that the mock battle would start soon.

Nachkt glanced from the piercer to her. “You’d better get going, Laufa.”

“Ah, right.” She took a couple quick steps forward, then turned to give Nachkt an awkward smile. “I’ll see you later, Nachkt!”

She sprinted towards her assigned spot, rustling the tallgrass on the way. Her hand steadied the piercer bouncing in its sheath at her side. She’d win. For Nachkt, for Laufa’s brother. For everyone. She had to.

Somehow, the nerves in her stomach had eased, just a little.

That was, until she remembered that they were up against Mordhun, and her fate was completely in Eralia’s hands. Her fingers clenched around the sheath.

If she screws us over… She’s getting two, no, three barriers straight to the face!