Chapter 90 - A Very Important Match

  “I don’t know if you noticed, but this game has been going for a while. And we’re losing.”

  Blaine’s words barely had time to settle before something on the board shifted.

  On the far end, an opposing Delphox moved. It took one slow, deliberate step to the side. Then another. And another, until it stopped beside a Rapidash, and right in front of Lahar. Two squares from where it had started.

  A low, rough growl rumbled from the Marowak. His grip on his bone club tightened, and flames flickered to life along its length. With a sharp breath, he lunged, swinging so fast that only the fire trailing behind his blow remained visible.

  But he sliced through empty space.

  Lahar staggered, thrown off by the miss. The Delphox hadn’t moved. It didn’t even flinch. Just stood there, watching.

  Celeste’s eyes tracked the board, mind running through the possibilities.

  Then it clicked.

  Lahar had moved in an L-shape before. If this was chess, then he was a Knight. The Delphox—no doubt the opposing Queen—had just closed the distance. But while it could strike him, he simply couldn’t strike back.

  Great. Just great.

  Celeste exhaled sharply, her mind still piecing together the board when Caleb’s voice cut in from behind.

  “What are the rules?” he asked, tilting toward Blaine.

  Ariana let out a sharp laugh. “You want him to explain chess to you? And here I thought you were supposed to be smart.”

  She scoffed, turning on her heel and not really waiting for an answer.

  “Screw this,” she said, already stomping forward, in a diagonal but careless motion, like she was daring the board to stop her. When her foot hit the next square and nothing pushed back, her pace quickened—stomps became strides, strides turned into an all-out sprint.

  She never stopped. Not until she reached the edge of the board and, without a second thought, threw herself forward.

  Forfeiting a piece, it seemed, was not in the rules.

  The moment she crossed the boundary, the Unown’s reality snapped her back like an elastic band. Ariana landed in her square with an audible thump, fists slamming against the ground in frustration.

  Celeste glanced up, half-expecting a swirling mass of Unown to pulse with light and twist the world around them. But nothing changed. The only thing above them was an impossibly large lamp, flickering like it belonged in some giant’s study.

  Blaine exhaled through his nose. “What did I just say about wasting moves?” He gestured toward the Delphox like that was somehow meant to clarify everything.

  Honestly, Celeste understood Ariana better. If she thought running was an option, she’d have taken it, too.

  Caleb, ever patient, tried again. “So… the rules?”

  Blaine sighed. “Mostly normal chess rules. Each piece moves the way it’s supposed to. Knights in L-shapes, Bishops diagonally, Rooks in straight lines. The Queen can move however it pleases, as far as it wants. Pawns step forward, unless they’re taking a piece, then it’s diagonal. And the King—” he glanced down at his own feet. “Moves one square at a time.”

  Normal chess rules.

  Celeste’s eyes swept across the board. The Magcargo were Rooks, the Rapidash Knights, Braixen Bishops. Delphox was the Queen. And their pre-evolutions scattered round—Slugma, Ponyta, Fennekin—pawns.

  That much made sense.

  Except—

  “Where’s the opposing King?” Celeste pointed at the empty space where it should have been.

  That was when the Magcargo across from her shifted forward, molten body bubbling as it slithered a single square. And just like that, their side was another step closer to being cornered.

  Blaine didn’t even glance up. “King’s spot’s been empty since the beginning.”

  “Not normal chess if we don’t have a King to take,” Ariana snarked, kicking at the empty space behind her that she still couldn’t cross.

  “Please, no one waste another move,” Blaine snapped before anyone could test their roles. When no one moved, he exhaled, running a hand down his mustache. “Like I said, it’s mostly normal chess,” he puffed out some air. “When this game started, Lahar and I were alone, facing an entire set of Pokémon pieces, except the King. We tested the rules. We figured out that I’m our King, and he’s a Knight. We even took out a few pawns… maybe we can show you…”

  His eyes flicked to his Marowak.

  “Lahar. A6. Take out the Slugma.”

  The Marowak let out a slow, rumbling breath, eyes still locked on the Delphox. He hesitated, then he moved, his L-shaped path precise.

  Before he even reached that small Slugma, his bone club spun in his hand, tossed up once, twice, as if testing its weight. Then, without ceremony, he hurled it.

  The Bonemerang cut clean through the fake slug.

  For half a second, the Slugma held its shape.

  Then it crumbled into nothing, vanishing in a puff of smoke, just like the Braixen had before it.

  Lahar caught his club mid-air when it spun back to him and stepped into his new square.

  “Capture in this game means a battle,” Blaine said flatly. “And whoever wins gets to stay, no matter whose turn it is.”

  Ariana, arms folded, scowled. “Got it. So it’s not real chess. And we can’t win, because the one thing we need to checkmate is literally missing.”

  Caleb sighed. “Mostly chess, but not quite,” he echoed Ariana somewhat. He looked down at his own feet, then at the Pokémon standing at his sides—his Palossand on one, Nebula hovering at the other. “I’m a Knight too, I guess. Nebula’s a Bishop, and I think Hab’s a Rook.” He tilted his head toward the Orbeetle. “How good are you at chess?”

  Celeste wasn’t listening, but Nebula droned on something about rules and plays.

  Lahar was more interesting. The Marowak was still staring ahead, bone club resting lightly in his grip. His eyes flicked between the Rapidash and Magcargo, sizing them up, daring one to move.

  The Magcargo stayed still.

  The Rapidash didn’t hesitate.

  Its hooves struck the board in a sharp clack, three squares down, then it took a sudden, perfect right-angle turn toward Lahar. When it closed the distance, it lunged, fire trailing behind each pounding gallop, and red-hot streaks from its mane searing the air.

  Its eyes were empty, but Celeste had fought enough of the fake Pokémon to know that the force behind that charge was real.

  Still Lahar didn’t flinch.

  At the last second, he sidestepped, letting the fire horse graze past him. The heat scorched the air between them, but his own flames burned brighter. Blue ghostly fire flared to life along his club as he flipped it once in his hand.

  Then he swung.

  The blow struck clean against the Rapidash’s exposed flank and a hollow, echoing crack ripped through the air.

  The fire horse reared, hooves kicking up embers. Flames spiraled outward in a circle: this was a Flame Wheel. However, the blue of Lahar’s ghost-fire mingled with it, twisting into something unnatural. Red and blue coiled upward, embers slithering like dragons locked in battle. The entire board seemed to glow under the blaze.

  Celeste lifted an arm to shield her face, squinting at the inferno. Through the heat, she could only make out shifting shadows. Lahar, the Rapidash, a war of fire.

  Blaine’s voice cut through the burning air, unflinching.

  “Don’t use fire. Brutal Swing—down, hard, on its jaw.”

  A low growl. The blur of movement.

  Then…

  CRACK!

  Celeste couldn’t see it clearly, but for a split second, the Rapidash’s head twisted at an angle that shouldn’t have been possible. The flames surrounding them flared, purple at first, before the blue took over.

  When the fire died, only Lahar remained.

  He rolled his shoulders, catching the bone club back into his hands. Blaine exhaled at that. Not that he even looked worried to begin with, but relief came anyway. It almost made Celeste believe all was well.

  But…

  Lahar was hurt.

  Fire-type or not, his body bore scorched patches, raw and seared. He braced against his club, chest rising and falling in uneven pants.

  Celeste’s fingers twitched at her side.

  Maybe it was time for someone else to fight.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  Celeste’s gaze swept across their side of the board. She already knew Caleb, Nebula, and Hab’s roles. Ariana was a Bishop, and her Murkrow, a Rook. And if Blaine was the King, and Pat stood beside him…

  Oh! Oh, shit.

  Pat was the Queen.

  Celeste turned, scanning the others. Nebula and Blaine were deep in discussion. The Orbeetle insisted on setting traps. Blaine refused. “No King,” he muttered. “What’s the point of traps if we can’t win with a checkmate? We take down as many as we can.”

  All very interesting, but something was nagging at Celeste’s thoughts. She knew what it was, but she counted the pieces again, anyway.

  Two Rooks. Two Knights. Two Bishops. A King. A Queen.

  And her.

  “Take down the Ponyta at B4,” Blaine ordered, cutting through Nebula’s insistence on strategy.

  Lahar shifted, his club already catching fire as he locked eyes with the Ponyta in question.

  But Celeste wasn’t watching that.

  She counted again, quickly. Then, before Lahar could leave his square, she turned back and ran.

  Her foot barely touched the square behind her before something snapped her back into place. She hit the board hard, breath knocking out of her as all eyes turned to her.

  Lahar just huffed and kept moving, despite it all.

  “I’m a Pawn?!” Celeste yelled.

  Ariana let out a laugh. “Yeah, that tracks.”

  “This is serious!” Celeste waved an arm at the board. “If something comes at me, how do I run? I—I can’t fight like a Pokémon!”

  At the far side of the board, Lahar trudged forward, batting away the Ponyta’s Fire Blast with swings of his bone club. The flames curled and fizzled against the air, but he didn’t slow. He just kept moving, closing the gap with steady, if maybe a little tired, steps.

  Then, just as he lifted his club for the final blow, he left himself open. It was just long enough for the next blast of fire to hit him square in the chest. The flames licked across him, but he barely reacted.

  His club came down and, just like that, it was over.

  The Ponyta flickered, then vanished like all the others before it.

  The Marowak exhaled, glancing down at the fresh burns marking his chest.

  And then… he shrugged.

  Celeste watched it all from the square she was trapped in.

  She was reckless, often enough, rushing forward, throwing herself headfirst into danger. Because as long as she moved, she didn’t have to think about it.

  But right now?

  She wasn’t moving.

  And she was thinking very much about how she couldn’t just shrug off a Fire Blast to the chest.

  Her breath quickened. She turned sharply, scanning the board.

  Two squares ahead, a Slugma. Beside it, another Ponyta. And lurking farther back, a Magcargo.

  Before anything could move towards her, before anyone could even speak, she threw a finger toward the Slugma, voice rising.

  “We have to do something, because I can’t even touch that without dying! And it’s too close!”

  Ariana, from the safety of her position, looked amused. “Relax, it can’t get you from there.” Then she lifted her chin to the Ponyta nearby. “That one can, though. In two moves.”

  “Not helping,” Caleb muttered.

  Blaine didn’t even look up. He just shook his head, gaze fixed elsewhere—on the Magcargo on the opposite side who had started moving again. Its molten body shifted forward, creeping toward an open path… one that led straight to Caleb’s Palossand.

  Slow. Steady. Unbothered.

  It didn’t care about Celeste’s panic. None of them did at that moment. Everyone just braced for another battle.

  But it never came.

  The Magcargo stopped.

  Not by the Palossand.

  By Lahar side.

  Blaine’s brow furrowed. “…What are they doing?”

  Nebula’s eyes swirled in response. “It’s called strategy,” she buzzed in their minds.

  “Very well,” Blaine’s response was immediate. “Lahar, C6. Take out that Fennekin Pawn.”

  “That’s not strategy,” Nebula shot back. “You’re just tiring your Pokémon out while he takes out some Pawns.”

  Blaine swept an arm around the board. “The strategy is to take them all down. What else can we do?”

  Celeste barely heard them, though.

  She looked down at her own square—H4. Now that Lahar moved all that stood between her and that Magcargo was another Fennekin.

  Uneasy, she shifted, and her shadow shifted with her. For just a moment, Shy’s eyes glinted. Worried. Watching.

  But also there with her.

  Celeste exhaled, telling herself it would be fine.

  Once the fiery Marowak struck down another Pawn it was time for the opponent’s move. Now, the Magcargo could either chase Lahar or finally go for the Palossand.

  That was it.

  As long as the Ponyta ahead didn’t move, it would all—

  “Fuck.”

  It was Ariana’s voice that snapped through the air.

  Celeste’s head shot up.

  A Fennekin—the Fennekin she just mentioned—had stepped forward.

  Just a single, small step.

  And with that one, simple move… It cleared the Magcargo’s path to her.

  Celeste felt it before she even turned. The weight of every gaze locking onto her.

  Blaine’s. Caleb’s. Pat’s. Nebula’s.

  And the Magcargo’s.

  It was looking at her.

  A cold rush of air filled her lungs.

  Shit.

  “Celeste. Breathe.” Blaine’s voice was steady.

  It didn’t help.

  “You can step forward,” Ariana said, getting a little lively again. “The square ahead of you is open.”

  Celeste looked.

  Slugma ahead. Ponyta to its side.

  “If I do, the Ponyta will take me.” Her voice cracked.

  Ariana arched a brow. “Maybe it’s time your ghost actually fought a battle?”

  “I—Shy—” Celeste’s throat closed. Honestly, she didn’t even know what Shy was, much less if they could fight. “I c-can’t—”

  Her vision blurred. Her hands clenched.

  “We can do strategy instead. What about that, hmmm?” Nebula buzzed.

  The polished surface of the board glowed under Celeste’s feet, the white of the square ahead reflecting all the fire surrounding her.

  “The only move she needs to make,” Nebula continued, “is nothing. Hab can take the Magcargo. Simple.”

  Celeste swallowed. This wasn’t enough.

  “What if he loses?” she asked.

  Caleb started to protest, but Celeste’s focus snapped to the Marowak instead.

  She had a better idea.

  “Lahar can block!” She pointed at the squares to her side. “B or D4. If he just—”

  But Lahar wasn’t paying attention.

  He tapped his tail against the board.

  Once.

  Twice.

  His eyes were locked onto yet another of the many Fennekin Pawns.

  Muscles tensed. Grip on the bone club tightened.

  A simple bark from the small fake fire fox cemented it all.

  Marowak wasn’t waiting for orders. He was about to move.

  Celeste’s breath vanished.

  He wasn’t going to protect her.

  Before she could think, before she could stop herself—

  She lunged forward to the square ahead.

  —*——*—

  Celeste could feel their heat.

  The Slugma in front of her burned the worst, but her eyes refused to leave the Ponyta, because that one could actually take her out.

  Still better than the Magcargo, though.

  “Now what?” Ariana asked, voice flat, scanning the battlefield with the disinterest of someone not currently at risk of being barbecued.

  No one answered.

  Or rather—Pat did.

  From his spot at the back, the Slowpoke bellowed. A deep, rumbling noise that Celeste suspected meant he’d only just now realised the full extent of the situation. The moment it clicked, he tried to charge forward—

  And was immediately snapped back into place.

  He could have moved anywhere, sure. He was their Queen. If only it were their turn.

  Blaine reached out as far as he could toward the Slowpoke, fingers hovering uselessly in the empty space between them. Pat trembled, wide-eyed, searching for something he could do. Even Hab seemed to feel for him. The Palossand swayed, shifting its form, raising its tower-like arms in what might have been an attempt at help—or at least, his version of it. He beckoned the Magcargo forward, as if sheer taunting could force the opponent to take the less deadly move.

  “It won’t work,” Nebula buzzed at her teammate. “These constructs can’t get taunted.”

  And she was absolutely right.

  Because when something finally moved, it wasn’t the Magcargo.

  It wasn’t the Ponyta either.

  Nope.

  It was much, much worse.

  The Delphox. The opposing Queen. The one Lahar kept returning his glare to.

  That was what moved.

  One step, light, yet powerful. Then another. Diagonal. Steady.

  Until it stood right there.

  Not just at Celeste's row, but directly in front of Ariana, too.

  “Shit!” Ariana yelped, stumbling back. “No fucking way—shit, shit—don’t give me that look, old man! There is a goddamn fox wizard with a fire stick pointed at me, and I am not—”

  “Don’t move!”

  Nebula’s voice slammed into their minds, loud and unignorable, freezing Ariana before she could bolt.

  For a second, Celeste thought it was just the shock of it all.

  “Before either of you panic and leave the other to die, let’s think.”

  Celeste laughed, bitterly. “Ariana should take the move. Either way, I’m toast. My options are death by Ponyta or death by Delphox.” She gestured vaguely between them. “Both come extra crispy.”

  Pat bellowed again, not really into the humour of it all. But what else was she to do?

  “That’s that, then,” Ariana said, shaking it off. “She’s fine with dying, so I’m out—”

  “Negative.” The Orbeetle’s voice cut through, buzzing louder than Pat’s cries. “The Unown are making calculated moves here. Risk and reward. If I move beside Celeste or Ariana—”

  “Then it’ll go for the other!” Ariana huffed. “Fucking hell, do you think I don’t know you’ll protect Miss Goody-Goody over there?”

  Nebula protested, saying something diplomatic. But the bug didn’t move, and every moment she didn’t, Celeste could see Ariana’s foot tapping against the board.

  Celeste knew what that meant.

  Ariana wasn’t going to stay put and risk her neck.

  Celeste could move first. She could throw herself onto the Ponyta while the other girl was still gathering the nerve to act. But then what? Then they’d both be dead.

  Her whole body trembled. She tried (and failed) to take a steadying breath.

  There was probably a lesson in all this. Be patient. That had always been the struggle, hadn’t it? How to be like the Slowpoke.

  It was the only thing she could do now.

  Close her eyes. Wait.

  Patience, it seemed, would be the death of her.

  Though if she was being honest, it wasn’t patience that got her here. It was jumping onto Lori’s Lapras. Heading into the mist and to Cinnabar.

  She shut her eyes tighter and willed her brain to shut up for once.

  And then—

  A single sound cut through the silence.

  A hoof against polished wood.

  Followed by a firm, decisive—

  “Ke.”

  Celeste’s breath caught.

  “Ke,” he cried again.

  She knew this.

  “Po” for yes. “Ke” for no.

  Her head snapped up.

  Ariana was pounding against the invisible edge of her square, unable to move forward. Nebula, in her own spot, flew in frantic circles. Blaine stood frozen, mouth slightly open, eyes locked on a single point—

  Pat’s empty starting position.

  The Slowpoke was no longer there.

  “What—” Celeste’s voice barely made it out.

  She didn’t know what to feel. Confused? Maybe. Proud? A little. The irony wasn’t lost on her. She’d spent all this time trying to be like the Slowpoke, and now he was acting exactly like her.

  But more than anything, she was terrified.

  Pat, however, was certain.

  Slow. Steady. Step by step.

  One square.

  Then another.

  Celeste’s pulse pounded in her ears. The Delphox was right there.

  Pat stopped.

  Directly in its diagonal.

  “What are you doing?” she finally managed to say.

  Pat only blinked at her and smiled.

  And she felt it.

  She felt Shy’s grip tightening around her leg.

  And she felt the warmth of a tear, slow and steady, trailing down her face.

  And most of all—

  The overwhelming, undeniable weight of his love. Not spoken, not seen, but pulsing through her mind like a heartbeat, clear and loud.

  Then he screamed.

  And the cry ripped through the battlefield. This wasn’t his usual voice. Nor his usual calm.

  He barked. He screeched.

  Then he screamed.

  “No. No, no, no—” Celeste stumbled forward, reaching out, begging. “Take me instead!” she pleaded. “I’m weaker—I’m easier—”

  But it was too late.

  The fire had already sparked at the tip of the Delphox’s staff.

  It turned. It aimed. And then the flames shot forward.

  Celeste barely saw her Pokémon through the tears.

  “Protect!” she shouted.

  Pat braced. His barrier was already up when the fire hit.

  And still, he didn’t stand a chance.

  The shield cracked like glass, and the Slowpoke was launched backward, slamming hard against the edge of his square. His legs trembled, burns seared into his skin. He barely stayed upright, but he never looked away.

  He kept staring. Brave. Always so brave.

  Maybe he could Yawn. Maybe he could douse himself in water. Maybe—

  The fire didn’t stop.

  Why wasn’t it stopping?

  If the Delphox kept going, then Pat—

  “No! W-Water!” Celeste’s words tumbled out, incoherent. She lurched forward, then snapped back. Again. And again.

  Not impatient, but helpless. Desperate.

  She couldn’t stop herself. Couldn’t stop throwing herself at the edge of her square, couldn’t stop screaming, while Pat stood inside an inferno of flame.

  Then—

  Something cold pressed against her fingers.

  Pat’s Pokéball.

  Shadows coiled around her leg, shifting, taking form.

  Shy.

  They held it out to her.

  She barely saw them. Barely registered the shapes forming. Barely let herself think.

  Celeste simply grabbed the Pokéball and recalled Pat, hands trembling, praying—

  Please. Just let him go, please.

  And it somehow worked.

  The flames vanished with the red light of his ball.

  Celeste collapsed to her knees, chest heaving, arms wrapped tight around the Pokéball, as if holding him close would keep him safe.

  No one spoke. No one dared to.

  But the game?

  Oh, the game didn’t care.

  It just moved on.

  And in its motions, there was no mercy.

  Chess Chapter 90.

  Next Chapter: The Red Queen

  Artwork of the day - Lahar

  Then he swung.