Chaturanga

Deep into the forest line lies a castle. However, it is not just a castle. For you see, this castle is... a type of castle that can only be described as... a castle. Its dark appearance and shimmer draw the illusion of being entirely made of obsidian. The motes which surround the building strengthen the dark, looming aura it exudes. The pine trees against the deep, stormy clouds almost make it appear black. The sky falls with drizzle, reflecting the black surroundings as it falls. It is the perfect camouflage for the inhabitants of the Black borough. It is the marvellous, malicious mingling mixture of macabre and majesty. Mmmm. M's. M&M. Eminem.

As the layers of mystery are slowly shed, we see a figure. A regal figure. He sits upon his throne with an air of contemplation as he holds court.

His body is rigid, but his mind is a continuous calculation of curating schemes.

Many rely on the power of the king alone to lead his people. His regal elegance, prowess, and organisation must be watched with a court to wage debates, discuss wealth, and dispute wars. His royal robes are a bottomless abyss, along with the deep crown with cut black diamonds and onyx; a perfect addition to Alcazar Abyss. Like his attire, the king must sit on his throne with power and grace. Lacking such a posture will make him appear weak, spineless, and unfit to rule. The court attendees continue to plead their case for the future of Alcazar Abyss.

"Perhaps we shall consider that war is the only sufficient solution. Threats coming from the Pristine Palace are becoming imminent. We must respond, or else the warnings of losing land and lives will become our reality. It is inevitable," says the king's advisor. Well, he is actually his father's advisor, but his position is fixed, and for good reason. Among the sea of words flowing into the king's mind, these words rise from the rest. The midnight monarch remains silent as the elders, dukes, duchesses, and other members protest among themselves. With a raise of his hand, the bumbling noise immediately ceases. After a few seconds, the king decides to speak.

"I declare war," his deep voice booms. Every single person kneels as he stands up. His gaze glances at the oriel window, where the opposing castle glares at him.

"Disperse. At once." The deep words resonate through the walls as the court session ends. Everyone bows before leaving, all except for one figure.

The woman embodies elegance. Her corseted bodice, against her figure, brings out the gold in her golden brown skin. Black gloves hide her dainty hands. Her makeup remains soft, but enough to make her ethereal. She is almost good enough to be queen.

Almost.

"My liege," she says while bowing. The king nods as he watches her get up. Her smile is a beauty trapped within her black lipstick.

"What requires your presence?" he asks. Her smile falters, but quickly recovers.

"My liege, you have not been to my chambers. Perhaps there is something I have done?" The consort's question remains unanswered. The king turns away from her; his expectations of something important coming from her were low. Somehow, she was able to exceed his already low expectations of her.

"Answer me!" a cry calls out as she grabs his hand. Immediately, the knight within the shadow comes up to them, drawing their sword from the sheath. This makes the woman let go of him with a small squeak. The knight stands next to the king, waiting for the signal to remove the woman from the premises. However, the king waves, causing the knight to return to their position.

The king then decides to do the right thing and turn to face the woman, whose smile is now wiped clean. She stands before him rigid, shivering on the spot. She flinches as he takes every step closer to her. Once he gets close enough to her, he can feel the desperation reek from her.

"Leave," he says. The woman's eyes well up with tears as she slowly nods her head.

"I'm sorry, my liege," she whispers. The woman bows before turning around and hastily walking away from the king. He watches with a blank eye as her soft sobs echo through the halls. Once she is gone, the king sighs. He slowly walks closer to the oriel window with the Pristine Palace in full view.

The stark contrast between the Pristine Palace and the Alcazar Abyss is apparent. Despite the storm cloud covering the sky, the soft flakes escape from the blooms and land on the dark pine trees, blending into the castle with ease. The castle is as pure as the driven snow surrounding it. The shimmering reflection against the packed snow causes the castle to glow. The midnight monarch stares at the castle a little longer, his hazel eyes gaze down as he sees the battlefield.

The dark forest of the Alcazar Abyss and the snow-covered trees of the Pristine Palace split off from the midline. Instead of a dark drizzle or a soft snowfall, the dark clouds break, allowing the yellow sun to peek through. Between the midline lies a perfect square cut in the forest, leaving it bare. However, instead of the forest floor, both kingdoms decided to place a 64-square checkerboard with alternating black and white squares. Chaturanga, once a game, has been used to wage war and dispel disputes from many domains. However, over millennia, the Pristine Palace and Alcazar Abyss have dominated the sea of sanctions and are now the only two standing.

There was once a time of peace and tranquillity between the two. Banquets from either domain were common. It was a time of entertainment, drinks of sweet wine and the sharing of culture and food. Those days were some that even the stoic king reminisces about.

"Your Majesty." The voice brings the king out of his trance. He turns to his knight in black and shimmery armour. The metallic figure stands with its arm toward its sword.

"We must approach the hunting ground at once," the knight explains. The midnight monarch nods and accompanies his right hand as they leave the grounds.

As the large ebony wood doors open, the knight takes out their sword and slices in front of them, ripping the fabric of air. The king walks to the rip and tears it apart with his hands, causing an audible rip to echo through. As custom, the king walks through with his knight following behind. Once they finish walking through the portal, the king raises his hand, causing the portal to seal itself back up.

Both figures walk through the grounds, their eyes staying on high alert. The snowy terrain beneath them slowly elevates as they climb over a small mound. The air is dead silent, except for the crunch beneath their feet. As they continue their trek, a soft whistle pierces through the air.

Suddenly, the king is pinned against the tree. He immediately looks up and grabs the projectile that is lodged deep in his robes, causing him to hang above the forest floor. The sounds of an approaching foe get louder as the knight dressed in a white breastplate and silver chainmail charges directly at him with his sabre. The bright knight's face is bare, revealing his pale skin and blue eyes with his blond waves swaying over his shoulders. Before he could get any closer, the dark knight blocks his swing with her own sword. She takes the grunt of the force before pushing him back. The king watches as the male knight smiles before engaging in an intense sword fight.

"At ease," a strong voice calls out. This causes the bright knight to pause, his sword close to the neck of the black banneret. The familiar voice approaches the three, revealing herself from the background.

The smile crawls through the midnight monarch as he watches his regal counterpart approach them. Unlike his consort, the woman is adorned with jewels on her dress. Her blonde hair is pinned in a majestic braided bun. Her tiara, made up of white gold, glittered with sparkling diamonds placed on every crevice, twinkling, causing a mirage of colour to come in bows of rain. Her lips are coated in liquid ruby, which contrasts with her beautiful blue eyes.

The snow sovereign.

She raises her hand, causing the arrow to disintegrate. This allows the midnight monarch to fall to the ground. However, he lands with ease and merely dusts himself off. The pinned king glares at the perpetrator as the bright knight removes his knight's helmet, revealing the woman beneath.

"You're getting sloppy," the male knight says with a smirk. This causes the woman to shove him. Despite that, the knight releases a chuckle. Soft hands turn the king's face away from the gentry, where he is face to face with the very object of his desires.

"Focus on me," she whispers. He nods as their face gets closer. The king closes his eyes as his lips naturally purse. Sweet softness meets his lips as he melts within his missing piece. Both form a beautiful sight as they reignite their old flame. The queen breaks apart, breathing against her black beau's lips.

"I missed you," she whispers. Shivers crawl up the midnight monarch's spine as he pecks her cheeks, her forehead, and nose, eliciting giggles from her. The sound is music to his ears.

”Still no queen by your side?” she asks. The king smiles, causing his warm breath to flow out into a small puff against the snowy tundra. “A kingdom rules better with a queen by your side, you know,”

”Perhaps. There have been candidates who try, but none of them are who I want.” The snow sovereign leans back and pouts, her brows are crossed and squints.

”Then how will you fight? The queen is the most powerful warrior on the battlefield,” she says. The king, simply shrugs as even he doesn’t know the true answer.

”The queen’s throne is still on the battlefield. Despite no one being there, I will manoeuvre the necessary moves,” he says. The snow queen nods from his words and leans her head toward his shoulder.

”I wish we didn’t have to fight each other. But I don’t know what else we can do,”

"We run away together. Right now," he prepositions. This causes the snow sovereign to look up at him. "Let's leave this behind us as we become what we were always meant to be," the king pleads. His words ache with the itch to stop the political games of love and war. His sovereign sighs; he prepares for the worst.

"You know that I can't do that." That isn't as bad as what she usually says. The change in her answer can be a potential shift in her decision. Surely there is still something buried deep within the queen.

"Do you remember my father's banquet? The one he hosted before he... before I became king?" he asks. He watches as his sovereign's blue eyes sparkle with the memories.

"How could I not? Back then, I was a low-ranking noble visiting the Alcazar Abyss for the first time. It was loud, colourful, and rich in culture. I had never seen anything like it." Both of them laugh as their memories come flooding back. There is a small inside joke within the court of the castles. They call those of low nobility the pawns, because of how small their political power was.

"You were so beautiful," he whispers. Soft pink pushes against the queen's pale face. Back then, the snow sovereign was only known as Jessica. He places a gloved hand on her cheek. "I still mean what I said to you on that day," he reveals. The queen sighs, leaning her head against his touch.

"Look, Calvin- I mean, Your Majesty. People have been punished, even executed, for the idea of integrating our kingdoms. I have been pleading my case against such barbarity to the king, but to no avail. My stubborn husband doesn't listen to me about anything: peace, our kingdom, or even his concubine. I am stuck within the wedge of a tyrannical ruler, from him and my beating heart for you.

What do you think will happen if we run away? Perhaps you understand the implications of destruction that will occur from our selfish desires." The midnight monarch can feel the stream from the snow sovereign's cheek from his glove.

"We are destined to cultivate violence. It is in our nature," she finishes. The king looks down as he closes the space between them. He embraces her as they feel each other's company.

That's how they are left. Two opposing figures are entangled with each other. Hiding away in their own refuge, guarded by their knights. Eventually, the moment will end. Both will return to prepare for war, and one will become victorious.

However, their moment before Chaturanga, and everything that comes in between, is cherished.