Instead of thousand possibilities - part 9 - labyrinth

This is the ninth part of the chess story Instead of a Thousand Possibilities. If you haven’t read the first eight yet, now’s the perfect moment to start.

I’m not totally sure if I should reveal what’s coming in this chapter, so I’ll just leave you with one hint: Ray is about to take a journey through lava.

INSTEAD OF THOUSAND POSSIBILITIES - PART 9 - LABYRINTH

Ray waited tensely to see what would happen. The lava stone doors creaked open slowly, and when they did, a screaming bishop chess piece clung to the edge. But its life was quickly snuffed out—taken by a blow to the head from a sergeant chess piece.

Ray glanced back and saw chaos raging through the doorway. No one was looking inside. No one was searching for him. That was his chance. Lava flowed all around him, and beyond the lava doors—or more accurately, the gap in the wall from which lava poured—a strange shadow moved endlessly around the opening.

Ray thought hard about how to get past the doors. Then it hit him. He ran to the lava-stone door and ripped it off its hinges. It was unbelievably heavy, but Ray dragged it down the corridor. He stayed underneath it like it was a roof, shielding himself from above as he passed through the lava flow. He gripped the handle—holding it from the sides would have meant losing his fingertips to the lava.

As he made his way through the lava, the door started to melt, but Ray made it just in time. Behind the lava doors, he found a labyrinth. A twisting maze built from lava stone, with danger lurking at every turn.

Ray hesitated—took a breath—and then stepped in. At first, it wasn’t too hard to navigate. There were only two crossroads, each offering just two paths. One of them always had a suspiciously easy obstacle.

At one crossroads, Ray had two options: a path full of lava, where he’d have to leap from stone to stone like tiny stepping islands—each one barely big enough for a single foot, and you'd have to launch off immediately. The other path had a sharp rock blocking the way, but it was laughably easy to walk around.

At the next fork, one path was made of lava-stone tiles—some of which wouldn’t hold your weight and would sink you into the lava. The other had a small lava puddle that you could easily step over.

But then Ray hit a serious junction—four paths this time, and each one more dangerous than the last.

One was a deep chasm with a rope bridge over lava. Every minute, the lava would shoot upward and incinerate the bridge—then, like clockwork, a new one would appear through magic.

Another was a narrow alley filled with small, deep lava craters you could fall into. As if that weren’t enough, the whole path was shrouded in thick, pitch-black smoke. You couldn’t see a thing.

The third was a lava pit crossed by glowing, metal chess pawns—spaced two meters apart—mounted on long steel poles that stuck out from the lava-stone walls. The pawns glowed like alcohol flame, shifting left to right while spinning like barrels.

The fourth path was totally open, but raining down on you were lava rocks the size of oranges—falling as thick as raindrops in a thunderstorm.

So far, the more dangerous route always seemed to be the right one. So logically, he should pick the most dangerous one now. But… which was it?

Ray thought long and hard, then chose the path with the rotating pawns. He tried to memorize their movement—side to side—and pinpoint the exact moment and place to jump. Guesswork doesn’t belong where lives are at stake. Just like in chess—you don’t beat your opponent hoping they’ll miss your blunder.

Eventually, Ray went for it. He leapt and bounced off the first pawn so quickly that its spinning and swaying didn’t affect him. He kept jumping from one to the next, timing everything perfectly. But when he got to the last pawn, there was no solid ground ahead. No safe landing. Just a lava-stone wall.

Wrong path.

But there was no time to turn back.

The pawn was moving beneath him. Ray started to fall.

And the fall... was soul-crushing.

As he plummeted toward the lava below, Ray's mind flashed back to the lava doors—and that shadow behind them. The figure—whose shadow he'd seen—was tall, broad-shouldered, and had a pawn on its head. It wore a loose, flowing robe that drifted like a cape in the faintest breeze.

Ray felt like he was falling forever. In reality, it was just a little slower than a normal fall. It’s strange how many memories rush back in moments like that—like pieces scattered on a chessboard. One second feels like a long, drawn-out correspondence match. But it passes as fast as a bullet game.

Eventually, Ray did hit the lava.

The molten field hissed and hissed again. A few bubbles formed and popped. The lava slowly calmed. Smoke drifted upward, and then... nothing. Silence. Absolute silence. The only sound, barely audible, was a small chunk of the wall breaking off and falling into the lava with a soft hiss—like a snake trying not to be heard, yet still wanting to speak.

Far away, the Chess King was thinking in his chamber—surrounded by bizarre chess artifacts: shrunken chess pieces that inflated with each heartbeat, enchanted wands that formed chess constellations in the sky when waved, and magic stones that let you move the pieces with your mind.

The Chess King also had an orb he used to watch over his people—and any visitors. He’d watched Ray right up until the moment he died. Now, he watched the ongoing battle.

When Ray died, the King felt a rush of relief. One less threat.

But suddenly, a massive figure appeared in his chamber—a tall being with broad shoulders, a loose cloak, and a pawn on its head.

“You really think a maze is a threat to someone who can fly?” the figure asked.

“Who are you?” the King demanded.

“I’m the guardian of the newcomers,” the figure replied. “I watch their journeys and protect them however I can—so they can make it home and destroy you. Ray was the best of them all. And I’m going to fight for him. Or rather—he’ll fight for himself. I’ve got a deal for you. Take my life, and in exchange, bring Ray back. He’ll have no one left to protect him. And if he dies again, you don’t have to bring him back. Sounds fair, doesn’t it?”

The Chess King considered it. Then laughed.

“You’re one hell of a guardian, I’ll give you that. Everyone you protected ended up dead. But hey, you tried. I’ll admit that. And with you gone, Ray won’t last long in the maze anyway. He’ll be on his own, and it’s only a matter of time. Fine. I’ll take the deal. But on one condition: when he plays me in chess—for his return home—he’ll do it blindfolded.”

The terms were set. Ray was revived—right at the crossroads where he’d died.

And this time, he started searching for the *real* way forward.

Continued story here

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

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.

 If you enjoy my stories, feel free to join my Discord server—there you'll get access to exclusive tales I haven’t shared anywhere else, plus a bunch of other perks, many of which I talk about in this video.

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!