Instead of thousand possibilities - part 10 - end game

This is the tenth and final chapter of the chess story Instead of a Thousand Possibilities.  

If you haven’t read the first nine yet, now’s the perfect time to dive in.

I’m not entirely sure whether I should spoil what’s about to happen in this chapter, so I’ll just tell you one thing:  

Ray is going to play chess with the king of the world he’s found himself in.

INSTEAD OF THOUSAND POSSIBILITIES - PART 10 - END GAME

Ray had finally decided, after a long time, which path to take—one that led to a bridge over a lava field. The strange thing about this bridge was that every time it sank into the lava, it would, by some miracle, reappear again, allowing passage to the other side… unless, of course, there was a wall waiting there.

The end of every path through the maze was always shrouded in thick black smoke, so you could never tell whether it was a dead end or if the path continued. But this time, Ray managed to cross the bridge. It was the last obstacle—well, almost. Beyond it lay a long staircase leading upward, and that, too, was a kind of obstacle. Lava lay below the steps, and from the moment you set foot on the first one, they began disappearing—one per second—from the bottom up. You had to run unbelievably fast and never miss a step.

To his surprise, Ray made it. At the top—after spiraling around nearly eight hundred and ninety steps—was a room where the king of this world sat on his throne, crafted from the hollowed wooden bodies of pawns, sipping wine made from grapes that grew on the chess pieces of the alfil rider.

The chess king soon rose from his throne, walked over to Ray, and said:

“I was hoping you’d make the wrong choice again… but you didn’t. Well then, let’s just say you won’t beat me at chess—especially when I can see the board and you’ll be playing blind. Your protector was here, and he gave his life for you. And in exchange for returning your life, I made a deal with him: you’ll play blindfolded, but I won’t. Don’t worry—I won’t cheat. That’s against the rules. And in this world, cheating at chess is also forbidden. If I did, I’d start melting like a candle. So… do you want to play, or do you surrender and I let you live? Keep in mind, whoever loses will lose their life—that applies to both you and me. So… are we playing, or not?”

“Why wouldn’t we play?” Ray said firmly.

The chess king tied a blindfold over Ray’s eyes.

Ray sat at a stone chessboard with stone pieces, facing the chess king, who made the first move. While Ray couldn’t see the king’s pieces or his moves, he had a special stone connected to a cap he wore—strangely transparent, almost invisible—which projected the position of his own pieces onto his mind. By pressing a button on the stone and calling out his move aloud, the pieces would shift into place.

Both Ray and the king opened with the Indian Defense—something few would expect. Soon, Ray lost his queen, then both rooks, while the chess king lost only two pawns. The game went on: Ray lost five pawns, a bishop, and two knights, while the king lost just one more pawn.

Ray didn’t know what to do and soon lost another pawn… then another… and finally his last pawn, which had a slim chance of reaching promotion. The king’s next move took Ray’s bishop, and then another pawn. The chess king was just one move away from victory—and Ray saw it.

Now it was Ray’s turn. Sweat poured from his forehead so much he could have wrung out his blindfold for five minutes straight. The game was on a timer, and the cap projected the clock before his eyes—he had just one minute and ten seconds left. It was a standard ten-minute rapid game.

He was about to make the move he’d been preparing—the one that might save him. He just hoped it was legal. It was—and it caused something the chess king didn’t expect: a draw by perpetual repetition.

Apparently, the chess king hadn’t noticed. Since it was a draw, a new game began.

This time, Ray thought much more carefully—constantly considering the most likely responses the king would make to his moves. And it paid off. Ray took the king’s queen, then a bishop, then a knight. In return, the king took both of Ray’s rooks, both knights, both bishops, and four pawns.

Still, Ray kept thinking about possible counterattacks. The king’s queen took a rook—Ray was glad… until he realized it was a mistake. The king immediately captured Ray’s queen. But Ray, with a pawn move, took the king’s second rook.

The king captured a bishop, but didn’t notice that Ray’s king stood right behind it. The king was annoyed he had taken Ray’s piece with a knight—because Ray had noticed a missing piece and moved to the square it had stood on, knowing an enemy piece would be there.

The chess king still had eight pawns, but was getting nervous—especially after glancing out the window and seeing his army losing the battle. Ray was nervous too, but hearing the king curse about having to play chess while his forces fell lifted his spirits.

Ray focused and waited for the king’s mistakes—and the king made every single one possible. Ray took his bishop and all his pawns. The king took only one pawn from Ray.

Now Ray had one last pawn in play and had to get it to the other side before the king could stop him. It wasn’t easy—he was five squares away—but he made it. He even promoted the pawn to a queen.

It was hard to deliver checkmate without knowing exactly where the enemy king was, but Ray guessed the most likely spot and gradually limited his moves until he trapped him.

When the chess king realized he had lost, Ray could finally remove his cap and blindfold. The king conjured exactly eight portals and began melting.

“I’ve opened eight portals, one of which leads to your world. You have one minute to choose before they vanish. Choose wisely,” said the chess king, melting into a puddle.

As he melted, so did the rest of his army, and the chess world began to live in peace. But Ray had only ten seconds left to choose a portal—and still had no idea which was the right one. As the portals began collapsing, he realized he was out of time—and jumped into the closest one.

It took him a while to figure out which world he’d landed in, and whether it was the one he came from. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was that from then on, life went well for him again. In the end, his mother received a great honor—a major chess tournament was named after her. Ray entered, won every match, and tried to inspire as many people as possible to love chess.

And he succeeded…

© Choanozoa (a pseudonym and the author’s trademark), all rights reserved.

A FEW WORDS FROM THE AUTHOR

Dear reader,

I hope you’ve enjoyed reading this story. It’s been a long journey—and if you’re reading this, you’ve reached its end.  

I have to say, the road wasn’t short, and I truly appreciate that you stayed with it all the way through.  

I’m glad you chose to walk alongside Ray and didn’t leave him behind.  

Now, it’s time to say goodbye—but dreams don’t have to end.

And if you’re sad that you won’t hear more about Ray, don’t worry.  

As I promised, a more detailed section titled A Few Words from the Author will be released soon.  

There, you’ll learn what inspired the story, more about the world of the royal game, and the characters Ray met along the way.

I’ll also share a bit about chess itself and take a closer look at some of the more striking pieces in the story—what roles they play in different chess variants, and what they might represent.

In any case—even though I’ve said it before—thank you.  

I truly hope you enjoyed the story.