image [https://urogyn.sakura.ne.jp/images/2024-10-09chess1.png]
85) OPHELIA MELBRINDA
Sophia and Nyra stood at the giant chessboard. Nyra, nearly on the brink of death due to the influence of the witch's mist, found relief as her body became lighter when she transformed into the Bishop piece. Nyra, now in her new form, was enjoying the role of the Bishop.
“Bishop! Take the pawn on b5!”
That command filled Nyra with excitement. The opposing pawn was shattered by a single strike from the rune-inscribed lion sword she held as the Bishop. From the remains of the pawn, a rabbit emerged, poking its head out. The rabbit remained asleep.
Sophia remembered a similar scene from a year ago when she and Ardy had played a match. Back then, too, animals emerged from the broken chess pieces. The animals had been unconscious for over ten minutes. In this forest, humans could only survive for four minutes. In other words, becoming a chess piece and being shattered meant there was no way to return.
Realizing this once more, Sophia steeled herself.
Their opponent seemed to be the earth itself. Ardy’s whereabouts were unknown. He might not even be here.
“Linehart!” Sophia called for her beloved Chihuahua. “Find Gustav! He must be close.” Gustav was Ardy’s loyal Doberman.
“When you find Gustav, both of you must search for Ardy. Once you find him, give him this pocket watch. Make sure he wears it around his neck.”
Sophia pulled a pocket watch from her pocket. As she held it in her right hand, her blood smeared across its surface. Sophia could transform her blood into massive amounts of mist or steam, and this vapor could carry her will. It was, in a way, the blood of a witch.
It almost seemed as though Sophia had deliberately smeared the watch with her blood.
Linehart, the Chihuahua, gave a knowing look. He, too, had used too much of the mist’s power and could no longer speak human language. Gustav, the Doberman, was even more exhausted.
Just then, Ophelia came running. Though she had injured her leg, she was satisfied after discovering ancient relics. However, as she reached the chessboard, something strange happened. The pain in her leg had faded due to the mist's power, but this had caused her to overlook the excessive bleeding, making her heart race.
During the chess championship, the mist’s power had affected Ophelia so much that she had experienced hyperventilation and tachycardia, forcing her to stop using it directly. She had resorted to simply blowing the mist onto her earrings, but even then, the chess match had been so intense that she had nearly lost herself.
Ophelia was clearly in danger now. Sophia rushed to her side and asked if she was okay. Something was obviously wrong, but all Ophelia could talk about were the murals, ancient sacrifices, and a newfound passion for archaeology. Sophia told her to take out the pocket watch her grandfather had gifted her. It was a watch engraved with runes just for her. Sophia added her own blood to it.
Tears welled up in Sophia’s eyes. “I’m so sorry for getting you involved in this. Truly, I’m sorry.”
Ophelia winced in pain, her head pounding. Sophia wanted to take the pain away. With the power of the witch’s mist, maybe she could. Gently, she touched Ophelia’s forehead, and information about the ruins flowed into her.
Sophia gasped. She realized something important. Her face was now wet with tears.
She sent Ophelia onto the chessboard, though Ophelia’s spirit had reached its limit. Ophelia transformed into a pawn on the g7 square. As a pawn, her body became lighter, and the pain in her leg disappeared. She wore black clothes adorned with a brooch known as the Hunterston Brooch, an important example of Celtic craftsmanship discovered in Scotland. The brooch, decorated with intricate engravings and gold filigree, bore Scandinavian-style runes on its surface.
Inscribed in Celtic on the brooch were the words "Owned by Melbrinda," the name of one of Ophelia’s ancestors.
image [https://urogyn.sakura.ne.jp/images/2024-10-09chess1.png]
86) BOUND BY LOVE
Ophelia had fallen into a deep sleep for a while. In the meantime, Ronald had returned.
He had climbed the roof of Newgrange, passed through the treacherous passages, and ran at full speed, gasping for air.
Throughout his journey, his thoughts were always on his friend. He knew that his friend's legs had been broken, and due to his own injuries, they couldn't walk. The thought of leaving him behind had weighed heavily on Ronald's heart, so he rushed back.
The path from the ruins had been plagued by continuous earthquakes, making every step a struggle. Yet, the chess arena was eerily calm. Silent.
The chess pieces stood motionless in their places.
Then, Ronald’s eyes widened in shock as he spotted one of them.
Standing before him was the one he had spent countless hours with. Dressed in a tall, pointed white hat and a robe embroidered with runes, holding a lion-headed sword — the very sword said to have been discovered in the Thames. This sword, with its intricate dragon carvings and blue glass eyes, was rumored to carry ancient magic, engraved with runes from centuries past.
It was like something out of the famous Lewis chess set, only this wasn’t just a piece — it was his friend. Or what had become of him.
He had been transformed into a chess piece.
Ronald’s heart clenched as he stared at his friend's transformed figure. Though usually quiet, Ronald could no longer contain his emotions, and words tumbled out.
"You… what happened?"
The response was calm, yet heavy with meaning. “He’s been made into a piece. A bishop now.”
“A piece? This can’t be real!” Ronald’s voice cracked, trembling with disbelief. “He’s one of us! He doesn’t deserve this!”
“There’s no other way.” The voice was filled with sorrow.
“No other way?!” Ronald’s frustration boiled over. “I risked everything, ventured into the depths of Newgrange, and stopped the steam! But now you’re telling me… that wasn’t enough?”
“The land’s fury isn’t appeased just by stopping the steam,” came the soft reply. “The only way to quell it… is to win this sacred game of chess.”
“Win… a game?” Ronald’s shoulders slumped, his voice barely a whisper. “This is madness…”
In his mind, he screamed: How can you be so cold? So indifferent?
“You still have a choice,” the voice continued gently. “Unlike the others, the mist hasn’t claimed your life. You aren’t on the brink of death… not yet.”
“What are you saying?” Ronald let out a bitter laugh. “You think I’d just walk away? Leave him behind?”
For a long moment, Ronald stood still, his mind churning. He watched as his other companions slowly took their places on the board.
Usually a man of few words, Ronald could no longer stay silent. Seeing his friend's transformed form stirred something deep within him.
“This is unforgivable,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion.
He fixed his gaze on the figure before him.
But with names forbidden here, he couldn’t say what was truly in his heart.
"You're… the witch of the mist, aren't you? What have you done to him?"
“I will stay by his side.”
With those final words, Ronald stepped onto the chessboard, transforming into the white pawn at b2.
As a pawn, Ronald stood staring at the bishop, the one who had once been his friend. In his hand, he clutched a dagger — a match to the bishop’s sword — said to have been pulled from the depths of the Thames.
This dagger, known as the Scramasax, was an Anglo-Saxon blade discovered in 1857. Made of iron, it measured over sixty centimeters, with its hilt adorned with copper, bronze, and silver. Runes were engraved along the blade, the same ancient script believed to grant the weapon its magical powers. Currently, this historical artifact is housed in the British Museum, where it remains a symbol of Anglo-Saxon craftsmanship and mysticism.
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Ronald was now dressed in white, a pocket watch stained with blood hanging from his neck. When he had been sent onto the board, the one who had placed him there had touched the watch and whispered a silent prayer.
I'm sorry for dragging you into this. Truly… I'm sorry.
Tears welled up in her eyes once more as she watched him take his place.
image [https://urogyn.sakura.ne.jp/images/2024-10-09chess1.png]
87) THE RUNE RINGS OF GALDERBROK
Ronald was struggling, caught in a whirlwind of emotions, unable to decide what choice he should make. As time passed, his memory began to blur, and even the names of those he cared about slipped from his grasp.
At that moment, Bohn and Luna returned to the chess arena. Together, they had overcome countless challenges, and their bond had only grown stronger. Despite the ongoing tremors, they clung to hope, believing that they were almost free. "Soon, we’ll be on the hovercraft, heading home," they thought.
“When we get back, let’s get married,” Bohn said, a soft smile spreading across his face. “I’d like to have two kids,” Luna responded, her eyes sparkling with excitement for the future. “We’re still students, so let’s start with an engagement,” Bohn laughed, taking Luna’s hand as they ran towards what they believed was their happy ending.
But as they stepped into the arena, they too began to feel the weight of the situation. The fog clouded their minds, and just like Ronald, the names of those they loved, even their own, began to fade. They couldn’t remember Sophia’s name, nor could they recall each other's names clearly.
Then, the moment of reckoning arrived. Seeing Nyra, who had become a bishop on the chessboard, stirred something deep within Bohn. “The time has come,” he thought. His left eye began to glow green, a sign of his ancient lineage. Passed down for generations, this green glow appeared only in times of great importance, as if a trace of the witch’s blood ran through his veins, marking him for this moment.
Bohn realized his role. His family, entrusted with a sacred mission by the witch of the Misty Forest 3,000 years ago, was destined to appease the anger of the Earth. And now, that moment had arrived.
Surprisingly calm, Bohn accepted his fate. It was as though he had always known this day would come.
“Wait,” Sophia said softly, stepping forward. She pressed her finger, smeared with her own blood, onto Bohn’s pocket watch. Bohn didn’t fully understand what this meant, but he felt the weight of his ancestors’ destiny on his shoulders. With no hesitation, he stepped onto the chessboard as the white pawn, dressed in white garments adorned with gold embroidery, a pocket watch hanging from his neck. In his hand, he held a weapon engraved with 15 runes, crafted from ash wood.
Then Luna, her voice trembling with rage, turned on Sophia.
“How could you let this happen?” she shouted, her voice cutting through the quiet air. “Why are you putting us through this pain?” “You’re a witch! A monster!” Luna’s accusations were sharp and unrelenting, each word striking Sophia’s heart like a dagger.
Luna’s anger was uncontainable. “I wish I’d never become friends with you!” “You’re not my friend. You’re nothing to me!” “Why don’t you just die on your own? Leave us out of this!” “Give me back my happiness!” “What do you know? You’re a witch—you don’t understand anything!”
Tears streamed down Luna’s face as her body shook with frustration and despair. Her once elegant hair hung in disarray, hiding her tear-stained face.
With a final, heavy breath, Luna took a step forward. “Fine. I’ll accept my fate. If that’s what it takes to get back at you, witch.”
Sophia tried to embrace her, to offer comfort, but Luna clenched her fists and pushed her away with all the force she had left. It wasn’t just an emotional rejection—it was physical, harsh, and final.
But Sophia’s true intention wasn’t simply to offer comfort. As she reached out, she discreetly pressed her blood onto Luna’s pocket watch. Luna, still burning with anger, stormed toward the chessboard, tears falling as she moved.
Luna became the black pawn. Her attire mirrored Bohn’s, but instead of white, she wore black with gold embroidery, holding the same ash-wood weapon.
Even in their transformation, their bond remained. Both wore matching rings on their fingers, ancient artifacts from the 8th century. These rings, known as the "Galderbrok" rings, held immense magical power, inscribed with runes that carried ancient spells. The runes were etched in patterns designed to evoke hidden magic, binding the wearers in an eternal connection. It was said that the rings’ engravings followed a rhythmic structure, akin to ancient Anglo-Saxon incantations, giving them a mystical force that transcended time.
The name “Galderbrok” itself refers to an old English spell, a term denoting the binding of magical power through spoken or written words. The rings were discovered in northern England, near Yorkshire, during the 19th century, but they now reside in the National Museum of Denmark in Copenhagen. Each ring is made of a mixture of silver and amber gold, with 30 runes split into three sections. These runes, dating back to the 8th century, evoke the sacred number three, which was believed to hold special mystical significance in ancient spellcraft. The rings' connection to enchantments and hidden powers is undeniable, and now Bohn and Luna, through these artifacts, share a bond that transcends even death.
Sophia stood back, watching as Bohn and Luna transformed into e7 Pawn and g1Rook chess pieces, her heart heavy with guilt. Silently, she repeated “I’m sorry” over and over in her mind, tears streaming down her face.
The overwhelming emotions hit Sophia hard. Bohn had accepted his fate so calmly, but it only made Sophia’s guilt and sorrow grow stronger. She respected his courage, yet the burden of what she had caused weighed heavily on her. Luna’s harsh words, although painful, brought a strange sense of relief to Sophia. The anger, the blame—it gave her something to cling to, something to take the focus off her unbearable guilt. But even so, deep down, the guilt of dragging them into this mess clung to her heart, unshakable and ever-present.
image [https://urogyn.sakura.ne.jp/images/2024-10-09chess1.png]
87) THE BOND OF TWIN STARS
Sophia stood in front of the chessboard, speechless. Before her stood Ronald, Luna, Bohn, and Nyra, all dressed in special attire, like chess pieces ready for a game they couldn't escape. The sight before her reminded her of an Aztec sacrificial altar, and the weight of the situation pressed down heavily on her heart. Her mind was on the brink of collapse, and her witch’s power felt like it might spiral out of control.
At that moment, someone gently hugged her from behind, a warmth she hadn’t felt in what seemed like ages. The coldness in her heart melted away almost instantly. Who could this be?
"Polina!"
The familiar name rang softly in her ear. Sophia's eyes widened in surprise, and she quickly turned around. Standing there, smiling with trust and love in her eyes, was Elena.
"Sister…?" Sophia whispered, barely able to comprehend.
"Yes, Polina." Elena’s voice was tender, as she held Sophia close. "Do you remember the Twin Stars of Gemini?"
In that instant, the heavy weight of fear and doubt that had burdened Sophia began to lift. Memories of their childhood together flooded her mind—memories of a time when their bond was stronger than any bloodline could tie. Though they were not related by blood, their connection was undeniable and deep.
Several Years Ago…
Elena’s father had been a researcher in Professor Wilhelm Weiss's aerospace medicine laboratory but lost his life in a tragic accident. Feeling responsible, Wilhelm had started visiting the family often, growing close to them. When Elena was six, she was diagnosed with childhood leukemia, and a bone marrow transplant became necessary. But no suitable donor could be found. Wilhelm, knowing the secret of his family’s witch lineage, turned to his daughter and asked if she would offer her bone marrow. Knowing what her power could do, she agreed.
The transplant was a success, and there was no rejection. However, Elena’s anemia persisted. Wilhelm, suspecting that Sophia’s presence might have an effect, arranged for the two to spend time together. To his astonishment, after playing with Sophia, Elena’s health visibly improved.
It was like a process in human cell cultures—if you grow a single cell alone, it doesn't multiply easily. But when grown in groups, the cells thrive. This is because the cells secrete substances like interferons, HGF, and insulin-like factors that promote each other's growth. Similarly, Sophia's presence seemed to activate the dormant witch’s blood in Elena, enhancing her recovery.
Sophia remembered their childhood vividly, recalling the time when they had created the story of the Twin Stars. Often, they would gaze up at the night sky together, imagining their future as stars, protecting and guiding one another.
“Hey, Elena, what kind of story do you think we’d create if we became stars?” Sophia had once asked, her eyes gleaming with wonder as she looked at the sky.
Elena had laughed. “Let’s be twin stars. We could always watch over each other and shine brightly in the night sky.”
“That’s beautiful! But we need names,” Sophia had said, excited. “You need a strong name. Hmm… Castra is perfect for you! It sounds like a guardian. It’s very you.”
Elena had smiled brightly. “Castra? I like it! It sounds protective and strong. And for you… how about Polina? It’s graceful, like someone who’s loved by everyone. It’s perfect for you.”
“Thanks, Elena!” Sophia had beamed. “Then let’s create the story of Polina and Castra, the Twin Stars! They shine together, protecting the other stars in the night sky.”
Elena had nodded. “Castra is the strong, dependable sister star. She always watches over Polina. But Polina doesn’t just sit back; she’s kind and offers comfort to everyone.”
Sophia had eagerly continued, “Exactly! Polina is gentle and brings peace to everyone around her. Because Castra protects her, Polina can shine even more brightly. Together, they become stronger.”
Elena had added with excitement, “And when trouble comes, they combine their powers to overcome it. Then, peace returns to the night sky, and the two stars shine side by side forever.”
Sophia had smiled dreamily. “Yes! When darkness threatens the stars, Castra chases it away with her strong light, and Polina wraps everyone in her gentle glow. The sky becomes bright again.”
Elena had softly said, “As long as Polina’s light is there, no one will lose hope. And Castra will always protect that light. Together, they will forever guard the night sky.”
Sophia had grinned. “Exactly! No matter how far apart they are, Polina and Castra will always be connected in their hearts. As long as they shine together, the night sky will always be beautiful.”
Elena had smiled with satisfaction. “Yes, that’s perfect! Polina and Castra, the Twin Stars, will shine forever. And anyone who looks up at them will feel hope.”
Back in the present…
Sophia was filled with emotions as she whispered softly, “Castra… sister.”
Elena nodded, placing her hand gently on Sophia’s head. “Polina, you’re not alone anymore. You’ve never been.”
Tears of relief began to flow down Sophia’s face. She took Elena’s pocket watch and smeared her blood on it, a protective ritual they had used before. Elena accepted this without hesitation, her trust in Sophia unwavering. She then stepped calmly onto the chessboard.
Elena stood on the a1 square as the white rook. Her robes were white, with gold embroidery that symbolized her strength and elegance. This rook was designed with motifs of lions and serpents, reminiscent of the ancient rune stones of the Jelling Mounds in Jutland. These motifs symbolized her role as a protector, just as Castra had always been.
The stone panel from which these motifs were inspired had been part of a sarcophagus that once rested in the gardens of St. Paul’s Cathedral in London. The sarcophagus, decorated with ancient symbols, had since been relocated and was now preserved in the Museum of London.
“Thank you, Castra…” Sophia whispered, her heart swelling with gratitude.
Elena said nothing but smiled, a silent affirmation of their bond. Sophia knew, at that moment, that no matter how difficult the trials ahead would be, they could face them together.
The Twin Stars shone once again on the chessboard, their bond unbreakable, their light undiminished.