Instead of thousand possibilities - part 2 - Down the cliff

This is the second part of the chess story Instead of a Thousand Possibilities. If you haven’t read the first part yet, you can find the link here.

I’m not sure whether I should tell you what awaits you in this chapter—so I’ll just share one important thing: Ray discovers he’s in a world where chess comes to life.

INSTEAD OF THOUSAND POSSIBILITIES - PART 2 - DOWN THE CLIFF

Ray slowly made his way down the slope of black gravel. It was the best path he had found so far, though still steep and treacherous. To his surprise, he discovered a house built right on the hillside. It was a wooden house, seemingly ordinary—just like those back in Ray’s world—except for one strange thing: it cast a shadow that felt… alive.

The shadow had a smile. Eyes. It almost seemed like the house itself was watching, grinning with unsettling intent. The shadow acted as a sign for a chess variant of crazyhouse.

Then the shadow changed. The smile twisted into a crooked sneer laced with menace. Ray’s heart skipped. And just as the chill ran down his spine, the front door creaked open—not the shadow’s, but the real door. Out stepped an old man holding a staff, resembling a wizard. But he wasn’t. He was an alchemist.

“Sorry if I frightened you,” the man said gently. “The shadow usually looks like that. The smile—it was just a momentary effect. I tried to brew a potion to make this world a little happier. It worked… but only for a moment.”

He paused, then gestured inward. “Come in.”

Ray hesitated. But really, it couldn’t be more frightening than the transition from his own world into this one. When he had crossed over, fear and suspense surged through him. And when he realized the path behind him had vanished, a wave of hopelessness washed over him—intense, though not as crushing as the loss of his mother.

But dopamine pushed him forward. And giving up? That just wasn’t Ray’s style. He often said, “When it looks hopeless, don’t give up—there’s still time to push for a draw.”

He stepped inside.

The old man shut the door behind them. “My name is Roland Conn,” he said, motioning for Ray to follow. Ray obeyed and wandered through the peculiar house. Shelves lined with potions surrounded them. Strange details caught his eye—chess pieces hung from the ceiling on strings, all dangling down. They looked swollen, like sponges soaked in water, and their sizes matched their point values. Just ordinary pieces from classical chess, yet something about them chilled Ray to the bone.

Then he noticed something else.

Roland’s head was bald, but not just bald—shiny black skin stretched over his skull in a way that eerily resembled a pawn. The gleaming blackness, the curve of his skull—it looked like a human chess piece. A pawn, with zebra-stripe darkness.

Roland led Ray to a chair shaped like a giant pawn. “Sit down,” he said.

Ray did. Roland leapt up, grabbed a metal handle, and pulled it down. A projector screen unfurled, like in a cinema. Nearby sat a chessboard connected by wires to a projector. Roland arranged the pieces so the empty squares spelled one word: START.

The projector whirred to life.

A film began to play. It welcomed newcomers to the world—images flickered by, accompanied by a calm voice narrating:

“You are now in the World of the Royal Game. A world where chess comes alive. The people here bear some resemblance to chess pieces themselves, and the pieces—from classical and variant games alike—are fully sentient. You are currently at the Cliff of Arrival. Few have ever made it here. Fewer still have survived. Most journeys end in death.

To return to your world, you must reach the Giant King. Inside that towering figure lives a man—the only one wearing a crown. To return home, you must defeat him in a game of chess. Almost no one has made it that far, and those who have… did not win. Those who lose to the King die.

To reach him, you must pass through the Valley of the Xiangqi knight, descend into the Ravine of Despair, and cross the River Within. Then, climb out of the ravine and face a near-endless wasteland of stone. Along the way, you may find shrines or energy towers—temple-like buildings powered by living chess pieces. They supply energy to this world.

Avoid the Camel Caravans at all cost. They pull massive ferries, and if they catch you, your path will shift toward one inevitable destination: death.

No humans live in the ravine or wasteland—except the King. If you’re truly ready to go… proceed with caution.”

The film ended.

Roland turned to Ray. “If you want to leave, now’s the time.”

Ray didn’t hesitate. He stepped back outside.

There was still more of the cliff to descend. As he climbed down, he reflected on what he’d just seen. Was it all true? Could it really be?

Ray had played chess for years. But now, for the first time, he was in the game. A piece on the board. One that could vanish at any moment.

Fear crept in—but so did curiosity. What would it feel like to defeat the King of this world?

That’s when he saw it.

A living chess piece.

A grasshopper.

It flew around the cliffside, its wings buzzing like a hummingbird’s. Ray recognized it from variants like MiniForest and Amazon Jungle. But never had he seen one alive. And it flew—base and all. The base alone should’ve made it too heavy. But in this world, where chess pieces could live and fly, anything seemed possible.

For the first time on his journey, Ray realized: This is a place of endless possibilities. And not just metaphorically—over two thousand known chess variants echoed the meaning behind that thought.

Another grasshopper soared in and rammed the first one. The struck piece tumbled down, rolling along the slope, sending little stones skittering with it. It finally slammed into a large rock—much too big to be gravel—right in front of Ray.

He crouched beside it. The grasshopper piece still moved its wings, struggling. When Ray touched its base, it jolted with pain. That’s when he realized just how large it was—about the length of his forearm, and as tall as his elbow. The piece nudged him weakly with its wings. Ray stood up and looked into its eyes, watching them slowly close.

It died.

Ray looked at the stone that had stopped it. Then another. Then another. He found twenty such stones, spaced like markers—twenty meters from the bottom of the slope.

Looking ahead, he saw it: the long Valley of the Xiangqi Horse. He felt a mix of fear and anticipation. The Xiangqi knight was his favorite piece. The idea of seeing it alive, of hearing it breathe, filled him with a strange excitement.

Time to move forward.

But just before he did, another grasshopper dropped from the sky.

He bent down again—though he wasn’t sure why.

It was a mistake.

The piece shot up and slammed into his face—right into his nose.

Ray collapsed, writhing in pain, trying not to lash out at any other living thing nearby. Eventually, he got up, dusted himself off, and pushed forward.

Then a gust of wind swept through the valley, stirring the snow that blanketed it. It was cold, yes—but not cold enough to end Ray’s journey.

Not yet.

A FEW WORDS FROM THE AUTHOR

Dear reader,

As you’ve probably noticed, this isn’t the final part of the story. As I mentioned at the end of the previous chapter, unlike in Dragon Wasteland, this story doesn’t yet include the additional sections with chess-related insights or the more detailed A Few Words from the Author. These will either appear at the end of the final chapter or be published separately on the blog afterward.

Oh, and one more thing — just like with the story Dragon Wasteland, the English translation here was done by artificial intelligence. I hope you won't judge me for that. If you're interested in reading the story in its original language (Czech), you can find it here as a PDF.

In any case, thank you for taking the time to read this part. If you have any questions or feedback, feel free to let me know in the comments.

Thank you!