Ria ducked into an alley. She knelt down behind an old barrel. The pursuing knights continued down the street. She breathed in shakily. What the-
“Welcome to Milror, Four,” a brittle voice croaked out beside her.
Shrieking, Ria jumped out of her skin. Struggling to control her racing heart, she turned to glare down at the owner of the voice.
The hunched figure sat cross-legged against the wall. He smiled at the air, not even looking in Ria’s direction. The man looked neither young nor old. Meaning they were either an extremely stressed-out adult or someone with an extremely effective skincare routine… which looked unlikely. White curly, tangled hair with twigs and clumps in it covered his face and draped across his shoulders. The man wore an old flour sack with holes ripped into it for his arms. The sack was faded and brown, covered with stains of differing colors. Long toenails peeked out of the bottom, gnarled and black.
Ria inched back. “What did you just say?” She eyed the flies circling around the figure’s head.
Scratching their head, the man stuck a finger into their ear. He pulled it out and sniffed it. Shrugging, he said, “I didn’t say anything.”
Ria stared, just barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes. It was literally the same brittle and croaky voice!
Stretching bony arms up into the air, the figure stretched. Ria winced at the sound of popping bones.
The figure scrunched their nose. “I would check my pockets if I were you, Dear-y.” A clawed finger brushed strands of hair out of the way, revealing a milky eye underneath. “Lot of pickpockets around here. Wouldn’t want to have something go missing.”
Ria shuddered. Well, that wasn’t ominous at all. She felt in her pocket, reaching for the chess piece. The girl went to pull it out when it suddenly slipped out of her hand! Ria scrambled to catch the piece. As it fell, the metal piece glinted, then grew. When Ria finally caught onto it, she stared, baffled at what was in her hands.
In place of the chess piece was a long rolled-up piece of parchment. In fact, it looked like an exact replica of the one that had been etched on the side of the chess piece.
“What on Earth?” Ria murmured. She unraveled the paper, only to find it blank inside.
“What is a yEarth?” asked the man.
“What?” Ria said, looking up. “Oh. It’s our… planet. Do you guys know about that yet or-”
“What’s a planet?”
“It’s a round thing that floats in space. You know space, right?” asked Ria.
“Space? Oh yeah!” The figure nodded enthusiastically, then stopped and shook their head. “No.”
Ria sighed, shoulders drooping. “Right.”
She peered out into the street. It was all clear. No angry football-player knights in sight. Ria thought back to the blank look Marcel had shot her. Her brows furrowed. Actually, there had been no sign of recognition from Kris either. Was Kris really that good of an actor? No, Ria decided. He was not. Something else was going on here. But she had no idea what.
She paused. Was this… a different dimension?
The crouched figure yawned, “You know who would know about yEarth?” The milky eye opened once more, gaze sharper this time. “That piece of paper you’re holding.”
Ria held up the blank parchment. “This?”
“Yes,” hissed the figure, nodding excitedly.
Rolling her eyes, Ria opened the parchment and asked, “What the hell is going on?” She paused, then shot an unimpressed look at the figure. “Wow! Nothing.” She sighed, “Go figures-”
The parchment began to shake.
Ria stared at the object in horror. “WOAH!”
Elegant, black cursive began to etch itself onto the page. The ink materialized by itself, controlled by an unknown power. It took only a moment before legible words began to appear. Ria squinted down at the writing.
The parchment read: “Welcome to Milror, Four.”
The ink paused for a moment before continuing. “This is not a dream or a hallucination."
“Yeah, kind of figured that out,” muttered the girl.
More inked words filled the page. “Your connection with the Sacred Piece, Carmae, has brought your consciousness into this world and created a body to host you. You are in a world that exists parallel to your own.”
Ria bit her lip. Why did the name sound familiar? She glanced at the figure, then turned her attention back to the parchment. “Like an alternate dimension, sort of thing?” she whispered.
All the words on the page suddenly disappeared. Ria blinked. A single-inked word appeared. “Sure.”
Ria laughed. So, the parchment had personality. She took a second to ponder over everything. The cut on her arm throbbed. What did it say about her, Ria wondered, that she was so ready to accept the theory of transporting into a mirror world? A world that was still in the medieval ages but had talking pieces of paper and homicidal high school classmates?
Ria sighed, “Why choose me? Why not Daphne or Kira, or literally anybody else? I’m a nobody.”
The inked words readily responded. “You were chosen by the Sacred Piece.”
An image of the silver chess piece appeared in Ria’s mind. She hurried to explain, “But that wasn’t even mine!”
The ink ignored her frantic explanations. “The Sacred Piece belongs to the last Queen of Milror.”
Ria spluttered, “The last queen?”
The parchment shook. “Ria Regina, accept your title: Four, Monarch of Oceanport. Find your chessmen. Prepare your Court to face the Tournament.”
“Hold up!” Ria growled in frustration, shaking the parchment. “Queen? Oceanport? And Four? Why do I keep hearing that? What is up with the obsession over that number?”
Unlike before, the same inked words as before stayed resolute, unchanging. Ria shook the page desperately. “What court? And chessman? You can’t just dump me here and make me queen of an entire people! That’s insane!”
Finally, the words disappeared. The ink shifted. “Did you not take the Sacred Piece? Was this not your decision?”
Ria scratched her head. Was it weird to feel chastised by a piece of paper? Shaking her head of those thoughts, Ria pleaded, “It wasn’t! I don’t want this.”
The ink wrote: “Your fate has shifted, by your own hand and choice. Your destiny and Milror’s are now entwined.” The words faded out. It was replaced by a familiar phrase. “Find your chessmen. Prepare your Court to face the Tournament.”
“What does that even mean?” Ria asked desperately, tearing at her hair. But the parchment stopped responding, appearing like a normal paper. No matter how hard Ria shook it or asked it, the words refused to change. “How do I get out of here?” Ria asked. She groaned into the paper, half tempted to rip it up.
“Through the tournament, I would presume.”
Ria startled. She lifted her gaze to look towards the hunched figure. She… had forgotten they were there. Ria inched towards them. “What do you mean?”
The figure shrugged. “Tournament’s the only way things get better around here. Have a high-ranking kingdom, and your trade, influence and power are all set. Too bad we’re in Oceanport. The last of the last.”
Ria’s brow furrowed. “What even is a Tournament?”
The figure stared at Ria with wide eyes, emitting a hint of emotion for the first time. “You don’t know what a Tournament is?” Seeing Ria’s nod, they gaped.
With a sigh, they explained, “Well, as you know, Milror is made of four kingdoms. There’s us, Oceanport. Then there’s Estate, ruled by Sicca, although she hasn’t been seen for years. And obviously, you must know about the other two.”
The figure sighed again at Ria’s clueless head shake. They continued, “There’s the Citadel, ruled by Eres, the richest and harshest of all the kingdoms. And finally, there’s the Capital. Eldest of the kingdoms, best of the best, first place in everything. Ruled by the ever so gracious,” the figure spit, “Lady Rex.”
“Wait, so Oceanport is the only that doesn’t have a pre-existing monarch?” asked Ria.
The figure nodded. “That’s because we always lose the Tournament.”
“How is that related?”
The figure stroked their chin. “To my knowledge, the tournament is the ultimate test between the kingdoms. Shows who’s strongest and most favored by Admin.”
An answer was already forming in Ria’s mind, but she still asked, “What happens to the queens that lose the Tournament?”
The figure shrugged, “Deemed unfit to rule by Admin,” they scratched at their chest, “they disappear. Poof! Never to be seen again.”
Ria frowned. That didn’t sound good.
“Now you know. It’s kind of just how things work around here.” The man continued rambling. “We go queen-less for a few years. New one pops up, loses, and the cycle repeats.” The figure shrugged, “Most times we don’t even get to the actual Tournament before losing and the queens just go home.”
Ria’s eyes brightened, but the rambling figure barely noticed, too engrossed with his musings. “But who knows? Don’t give up so easily, Your Highness. You might break the mold! Maybe.” He turned towards Ria. “How confident are you in breaking two hundred years of, hey, where are you going?”
Ria turned back from where she had started walking away. “Uhm, finding a way home?”
The figure jerked a finger back in the opposite direction of where Ria was headed. “Castle’s that way.”
“Well,” Ria adjusted her jacket. “I’m not exactly looking for a castle. In fact, the farther away from it, the better.”
“Ah!” The figure nodded knowingly, obviously not catching onto Ria’s meaning at all. “Surveying the land. Very thoughtful! You’re going to do great things, I know it!”
Ria smiled awkwardly and waved at the figure. “Right…I guess I’ll see you around.” She turned and began to walk away.
“The Huntress and mistress of the mountain
Eres the Wolf, Milror sings of thee.” Ria froze. She turned to stare at the humming figure. “Sicca the Dagger, Milror sings of thee. Rex Finutar, Milror sings of thee.”
The figure got up, continuing to hum his song and hobbled away. Ria jumped as she noticed the other people that had been sleeping in the alley. Some hummed along, while others sang with the figure. Local folk song, Ria guessed.
Voices rose together as they chanted, “I heard a young girl sing: What of the broken lady
Oh pity me, my frazzled soul
The Ocean’s is Nobody’s,
Four the Unknown, Milror pities thee.
Oh Four the Unknown, Milror pities thee.” Cheers arose at the last line, followed by curses and jeers at the mention of “Four”.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
The figure turned the corner and disappeared from view.
Ria blinked, a heavy feeling settling in her gut. Her hands folded the parchment and stuffed it into her pocket. There goes the idea of trying to use her status for free food. To her surprise, the weight in her pocket lessened, the mass shrinking. When Ria reached into her pocked, she touched the cool metal and engravings of the silver chess piece. What had the parchment called it? The Sacred Piece.
Sighing, Ria pushed forward, stepping onto the street. A weird feeling settled over her as she studied the archaic landscape once more.
Unbeknownst to her, eyes followed the girl dressed in weird clothes as she started humming the infamous rhyme, “Oh Four the Unknown, Milror pities thee.” She hummed. “Catchy.”
The girl faded into the crowd.
…
Two men chugged down their respective jugs of beer. The liquid sloshed out of their cups. One of the men gulped it down in one go. He raised his empty jug in the air. Cheers erupted in the tavern as people hooted and exchanged their winnings. The other man slammed his jug onto the table and groaned.
The other occupants of the room laughed at him, some clapping his back.
A barmaid weaved around the crowd, passing out more drinks to eager hands.
“HEY! You owe… me five more, hiccup, sand dollars!” A man got up, stumbling over his words. He gripped his fellow drunkard by the collar of his shirt.
People around them jeered, chanting for a fight.
SLAM! All eyes turned towards the door. A large knight stood in the doorway. HIs hand hung by his side lazily, right by his sword. The loud raucous noise immediately died down. The would-be bar fighters magically sobered. He let go of his opponent and sat down. It was dead silent.
The knight walked forward. His loud footsteps and the clinging of his metal suit echoed in the quiet. A mouse scurried across the floorboards, squeaking louder than anyone dared to breathe.
The knight walked past the barkeeper, tossing a couple of coins into the jar. They looked different from the other coins. Unlike the dull copper ones, the knight’s were made of bright silver, the face of a crowned woman printed on its head.
The entire bar watched as the knight headed up the stair. The wood creaked with every step he took, protesting in a way many wished they could. The patrons and drunkards alike kept silent, following his form with their eyes until he disappeared from view.
As soon as the knight was gone, the people in the tavern looked around at one another. Then, in a silent consensus the noise began to build up again. Soon, it was back to normal. The man that sat down got up, grasped the other man’s collar, and continued their rowdy argument. The bar had seemingly returned back to normal, but the occupants felt the heavy pressure that now colored every loud swear and gulp of cheap whiskey.
The barkeeper, a young man with broad shoulders but a kind twinkle in his eye, breathed a sigh of relief. His name was Nester, a foreigner that had settled in Oceanport with his father when he was a young boy. Despite his youth, he held the respect of the Oceanport citizens. His bar and drink were the most reliable in the kingdom… that is if Oceanport could even be considered one. Nester picked up a glass and began to clean it. Every few seconds, his eyes would dart toward the direction of the stairs.
Judging from the dark expression on the knight’s face, it seemed they had finally realized the futility of coming to Oceaport and hoping to find anything.
Good riddance, the barkeeper thought.
Upstairs, in one of the larger rooms, there was a knock on the door. Lady Marcel, who had been in the process of packing her belongings paused. “Come in.” she said. Without looking up at the knight, she asked, “How did the search go, Krios?”
Krios, who looked exactly like Kris if the football player had been a few years older and had a nasty scar on his right cheek, shook his head. “No sign. We didn’t catch that rebel either.”
“Forget the girl. What’s one rebel going to matter?” Marcel sneered, “I’ll be glad when we can finally leave this dump. So much for that lead. Like always, there is no queen to be found in Oceanport.”
Kris sat down on the edge of the bed and shrugged, “The Underground Lord’s head base is rumored to be in Oceanport, and there’s always been suspicion that he had connections with Her Highness. It was a clue that couldn’t be overlooked”
“Maybe for you.” Marcel tied her bag and swung it over her shoulders. “This whole trip was a waste of time that I could have spent at Her Majesty’s side instead.” She grumbled, “Assisting her in important matters instead of coming out to this Admin-forsaken-”
“Language,” Krios chided.
“- land and going on a wild goose chase!”
Krios sighed and got up, but the other said nothing to refute her point.
…
Ria’s stomach grumbled. Hugging herself tight, she tried not to think about how she was going to survive in this world with no money or contacts.
The shabby roofs of the shacks around her as well as the muddy road filled with debris and trash didn’t exactly scream safe and cleanliness either. Ria got the feeling that the social welfare system in Oceanport was likely far from dependable. Were food kitchens even a thing in medieval times?
Ria was so lost in her thoughts she didn’t even realize when she walked straight into another person. She stumbled back and flailed her arms trying not to fall.
Further up the road, a driver urged his horse forward. He let out a hearty yawn and snapped the reigns once more. The horse protested with a loud neigh but burst forward.
Ria almost caught her balance, but slipped on the mud and fell backward. Ria landed harshly on the road. She hissed painfully. But before she could even comprehend what had happened, she caught sight of the horse carriage running towards her at full speed!
This was it. Sixteen years of life, only to be struck down by a carriage in an alternate world.
She thought of the chess piece in her pocket and blamed it full-heartedly for her soon-to-be death.
Ria closed her eyes.
A large hand yanked her back onto the street. The girl squeaked as she fell against a firm chest. Suddenly, a gust of wind hit her back and mud splattered against her clothes and shoes as the horse carriage sped past. She breathed hard, unwanted tears stinging her eyes.
“Hey,” said a voice nonchalantly, “You all right?”
Ria’s eyes snapped open. She peered up at her savior.
It was a young man dressed in a black cloak. He was tall and built like one of those guys that hit the gym when they had the time but didn’t really need to. They just had a naturally athletic build without even trying. His expression was cool and his dark eyes were piercing. He stared down at her, raising an eyebrow. “You can let go of me now.”
Ria immediately released his cloak… which she had been clenching tightly. Her eyes narrowed, “It’s you?” He sounded exactly like the man from her dream… she paused. No, it couldn’t be. The man from the dream had been cloaked, face covered. Her exhaustion was making her hallucinate things. How could a person from a dream suddenly appear in real life… Ria paused, she corrected herself. How could a person from a dream suddenly appear in an alternate world? She scratched her head. Or maybe it was possible?
Unaware of her inner musings, the man crossed his arms, unimpressed with her staring. He turned to the two people next to him: a lanky young man with glasses and a dude that looked like the exact definition of a muscle man. They looked like villain lackeys from a superhero movie.
Ria’s not-so-gracious savior sighed heavily. “Another crazed fan?” He scrutinized her and backed up warily.
The lanky man shrugged, “Maybe Boss. I mean, you did get that letter last week about…”
“The lady from the you-know-where!” the muscle man chimed in excitedly. “She was really pissed after you just upped and left-”
“Yeah, women don’t like that Boss! They-”
“I’m not some crazed ‘fan’.” Ria interjected, cutting the two lackeys off. She rose an eyebrow, staring right back at the young man’s incredulous expression. “Or some lady you apparently pissed off.”
Crossing his arms protectively over himself, the young man stared down at her accusingly. “You sure? Trust me, you’re not the first.” He shrugged, not an ounce of sarcasm or doubt in his voice. “No need to feel ashamed.”
Ria’s brow twitched. A burst of irritation surged in her. She prayed to… Admin, was it?…for strength then rolled her eyes and faced the young man. Smiling with too much teeth showing, her voice was sweet as honey. “I promise I’m not. Although I will admit,” she paused, looking down and curling a strand of hair with her finger.
The young man looked at her expectantly.
Ria blinked exaggeratedly, looking up at him from under her lashes. “I would sooner kiss the ass of the horse that was about to run me over than you.” She straightened and turned.
Unfortunately, she had dealt with guys like this. Ria could picture the self-indignant and offended expression that was surely painting the other’s face.
A loud chuckle stopped her in her tracks. She glanced back, unable to stop her curiosity.
The young man crossed his arms and let out a cackle. He wiped his eye. Still chuckling, he repeated, “Kiss the horse’s ass, hah! Good one. Timmy, write that one down!”
Ria stared at him.
Letting out another chuckle, the man stuck out a hand. “What a way to destroy my manly pride, Miss…” he trailed off.
“Nobody.” Ria hesitated, then acquiesced, “Ria.”
“Miss Nobody Ria.” The young man studied her. “Interesting name.”
Ria shrugged. “Right. And your name is…”
The man leaned down to wipe his shoe of mud. He picked up an object on the floor, then looked thoughtfully at her. Standing up, he shrugged, “Blaze.”
The two lackeys behind her gasped. “Sir!…”
Blaze ignored them and leaned in to whisper. “It’s not a name I give out often. Use it with care.” Whatever that meant, thought Ria. Blaze then dropped the object he picked up into her hand.
Ria looked down. It was the silver chess piece! The piece must have slipped out of her pocket when she fell.
“Figure this little trinket is yours?”
Ria nodded, not exactly sure what else she could do. She clutched the piece tightly.
GRRRRG! Ria flushed red. She looked down at her stomach, betrayed.
Blaze glanced at her. “If you’re hungry, there’s a good tavern down that way.” His chin jutted out towards an establishment that read, “THE TAVERN” in messy handwriting.
Ria kicked at a pebble. “I… don’t exactly have any money on hand right now.”
“That is unfortunate,” Blaze responded.
“Yep,” said Ria, popping the p.
“Hold it, Rebel!” A painstakingly familiar voice called.
Ria turned to stare.
Kris’ body double was running towards her, Marcel trailing behind him. Ria cursed.
Blaze whistled, “Wow, pissed off the Capital’s loyal guard dog? My congratulations.”
Ria didn’t even have time to think about the implication of that before a sword was held up to her throat. She gulped. The metal blade glinted. Up close, she could confirm that it… looked very sharp.
Ria held up her hands. “Please, it was all a misunderstanding! The butcher was making it up! I-”
“Silence Rebel! You are hereby under-”
Suddenly, a hand pushed the blade away. A towering form suddenly stood slightly in front of her. Blaze bowed his head, appearing to look meek despite being a bit taller than the knight. No one noticed the two lackeys in the back, gaping in shock.
Voice wavering, Blaze cried, “My Lord Krios, protector of the realm!” So, Krios instead of Kris, thought Ria. Were there similar people but slight inconsistencies in this world?
Sniffing, Blaze begged. “Please have mercy.” He flicked Ria’s forehead. “It is this foolish older brother’s fault for not minding my sister. Our parents died young and I fear her time in the streets has dulled what little sense she had left.”
Ria blinked. That… was definitely an insult.
Krios sniffed, but looked a little bewildered at the change of situation. “A crime is still a crime,” he huffed, but his sword did seem to lower a bit.
“And what jurisdiction does the Capital hold over Oceanport?” Blaze asked in a sharper voice.
Eyes narrowing, Krios tilted his head. “What did you say?”
Blaze smiled pacifyingly. “You misunderstand, my Lord. What threat is a foolish girl? It’s all those underground rebels and their talk of independence.” He turned towards Ria, staring down at her disapprovingly. He winked, discreetly, then said in a serious voice. “Isn’t that right? Sis.”
Ria paused. Her mind randomly conjured the memory of her fourth-grade play. In order to prepare, she had taken acting classes with the drama teacher and practiced her audition to perfection… only to lose to the class pet and spend the two hours acting as a tree.
Ria crossed her fingers behind her back. Here goes.
A loud wailing sound filled the streets. Heads turned to stare at the girl bawling her eyes out. Fat tear drops rolled down Ria’s face. She clung to Blaze’s cloak. “Brother! I was just repeating what the men on the streets said! I never went to school, how would I know what any of those big words mean?” She let go of the fabric, and knelt in front of Krios. The girl shamelessly started to hug his knees.
Krios tried to shake her off, to no avail. “Please don’t kill me!” The poor girl’s sobs were deafening.
All the people around them had stopped to watch the show, unabashedly staring at the drama. Some looked like they were regretting not having brought snacks from home. Ria realized that she quite liked that about the people here. They were blunt and to the point.
Ria added another loud wail and ugly sniff. To his dismay, Ria’s snots smeared all over Krios’ pants. His face took on a green hue. The “older brother” looked away. The scene was too much for his poor heart to take.
The knight finally shook the miserable girl off. Looking around, he said hesitantly. “Who said anything about killing-”
Ria let loose another shriek. Her “older brother” hid his face into his arm, obviously also overcome with deep emotion. Funerals were very expensive, after all.
Krios’ eyes bulged.
Suddenly, a flat voice called, “Stop this foolishness Krios.”
The knight turned to stare at the approaching Lady Marcel. The woman had been watching the entire interaction silently. Peeking up from her hands, Ria noticed that this Marcel also looked a lot older than the Marcel from her world. She shivered when the woman glanced down at her with thinly veiled disgust. Ria quickly glanced away. Where high school Marcel’s gaze was just mean and snobby, this Marcel’s eyes had a hint of viciousness that made one shudder and steer clear of pissing her off.
“Krios, you’ve made enough of a fool of yourself,” Marcel remarked coldly. “Our Queen awaits while you fight with sniffling children. Leave them be, let us go.”
She turned, cloak flying in the air dramatically. Krios stared at the duo one last time before sheathing his sword and following after Marcel. Loyal Capital dog indeed.
The crowd watched as the two foreigners mounted their horses and trotted off. Good riddance, they all thought.
Oceanport had a wall surrounding the kingdom, but it was unmanned. The gates were always opened. Despite being on par with the Capital and Estate in terms of land mass, without the usual checks and guards, it was a fast ride to exit the city.
Passing the city limits of Oceanport, Marcel slowed. Krios tugged on his reins and stared at her, but the woman’s gaze was facing toward the city they had just left.
Suddenly, Marcel turned towards him, a complicated expression on her face. Her typically flat voice held a hint of uncertainty. “Did you see what the girl was holding?”
Krios scratched his head. “Not really. An object of some sort. It was glinting in the light. Looked like it was made of-”
“Silver,” said Marcel confidently. The woman rubbed her chin. She said lowly. “It was a silver chess piece.”
Krios stared at her, gaze bewildered. He went to turn his horse around. “Those are illegal to recreate! Making fake Sacred Pieces is punishable by-“
“What if it wasn’t a fake?” Marcel cut in.
Krios stared at her. “You mean…”
Marcel nodded. She gazed in the direction of Oceanport once more. “Have one of our spies create a drawing of the girl and send it to the Capital.” Steering her horse forward, she declared, “Lady Rex will want to know.”
With that, she sped off into the distance, leaving Krios in the dust. The knight had a complicated expression on his face. He sighed wearily. Things were about to get messy.
Marcel urged her horse faster. Her bag swung back and forth, hanging off the side of the saddle. Inside it, an elegant letter had been placed in the innermost pocket with the utmost care. Rightly so as its lofty script held the power to destroy cities.
In red ink, the letter read:
“The Temple has spoken. Admin has declared a new Tournament. Be on the lookout. Four has arrived.”