Preview of The King's Gambit

(Illustrated by Elena Garrido)

The following is the prologue of The King's Gambit. It does not follow the main character, but instead does some foreshadowing and sets the tone. Hopefully, it will entice you to read more when the book itself comes out! Enjoy!

"Have you wondered if even the smallest decision could impact the fate of the world?” the man asked Sam, the young woman sitting across him. There was a screeching echo following the man’s voice, and Sam couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eyes. “I didn’t either,” the man said, “until a loud and incessant siren echoed throughout the undercroft, and a stranger invaded my home. I suppose that’s the best place for me to start.” 

None of this made any sense to Sam. The last thing she remembered was the closing gate, an explosion, and then the ominous sound of nothingness. She needed answers, so she would remain silent, and let the man finish his tale.

“When the sirens went off,” the man continued, seemingly ignoring Sam’s discomfort, “my initial concern went directly to the sealed compression units in each of the corridors. If they were breached, then my work would be for nothing. I could not remember the last time I had checked the units, for the need had never before arisen. This was the first time I had ever heard the alarm. ‘Was the power finally failing?’ I asked myself, knowing it would only be a matter of time. Everything must stop working eventually—that was something I had always known.

“Each of the corridors were maintained at standardized settings, each set to the same precise conditions for the treasures they contained. How was I supposed to run the diagnostic scan? For some reason, the procedure eluded me. The temperature inside each chamber needed to be exact. Anything less than perfect would have been unacceptable and disastrous. I supposed the best way to start my analysis would be by checking the temperature in each chamber. That would not be too difficult. I thought that it would at least give me something to do.

“The first corridor extended about twenty-five meters and had refrigerated chambers with glass doors on both sides. There were roughly fifty units within the chambers on either side of the corridors: each containing the essence of the future. The contents of each unit were completely unique from those adjacent and were all subjected to the same conditions. The cooling units and standardized pressure behind the glass refrigerators maintained the integrity of each chamber. This was the same for each of the dozens of corridors within the place I once called home. There was no greater treasure in the world than what these sealed units contained, and it was my job to watch over them. 

“After about an hour had passed, I finished the inspection of each of the units in every corridor and ultimately found nothing. Thankfully, none of the chambers in any of the corridors were breached. I asked myself, ‘If the chambers were still safe, then what was causing that dreadful sound?’ Before I could determine the cause, I noticed another sound, though it was significantly fainter than the alarm. It was outside. I had never been outside, for I was born within the mountain. I always imagined I would die there, too.”

Sam felt a chill run down her spine as she thought of the man’s death. She couldn’t quite remember why, but something about it greatly unsettled her. 

“It must have been years since I had last checked, but it seemed that the outside cameras were in working order,” the man said. “They were my eyes from the inside, and they showed me people outside the front gate. I instantly regretted the decision to look, for the sight was a most gruesome one. A chilling reminder of why I needed to stay indoors. 

“It was dark, and the moon was absent. White clumps of snow covered the stony ledge lingering beside the mountain. A rarity, I noted. The woolen clumps were not pure, for they were tainted by the blood of men everywhere I looked. A man with his back to my eyes was standing with two hands tightly clenched around a glowing sword. The blade emitted a green light that grew with intensity as the man blocked the incoming fire from the horde in front of him. From my calculations, there must have been well over five hundred men fighting against the one with his back to me. The host carried automatic rifles alongside primitive bows and arrows. A fair-skinned man with green eyes held what, at first glance, appeared to be a silver revolver. Upon a second glance, I realized it was actually a solar pistol. Closer examination revealed more solar weapons among the attackers, though none were as powerful, nor as impressive as the pistol. I did not understand how that could have been possible: all the other Vaults were sealed. Only the Old Ones could enter, and as far as I could tell, they were long gone. 

“The green-eyed man with the solar-powered pistol continued to fire at the swordsman, and each shot dissipated less than a meter from the intended target. The blade glowed a brighter green with each failed attempt. All the while, bullets and arrows soared through the air and each burned into ash the instant they met the swordsman’s blade. Occasionally, a man from the crowd would close in on the swordsman only to have himself disemboweled, beheaded, or both. 

“The fight continued like this for quite some time, exactly how long I cannot say. A part of my inner being found the scene to be an absolute atrocity. And yet, I found myself unable to look away, for I was utterly fascinated. I wondered who these men were and why they were fighting outside my home. The mountain would not fall nor receive any damage from their presence, so why did the swordsman appear to be defending it? 

“The siren, I eventually discovered, was merely a precaution to warn me of any possible invaders. Though why such a measure was needed I did not know, for only the Old Ones could enter. And I still wondered how these men came to possess solar weapons. I continued to watch in awe and wonder, for despite my immense knowledge I did not know what in the wide cosmos the green blade could possibly be. 

“Eventually, the man with green eyes realized his assaults were only working to make his enemy more powerful. He stopped firing and commanded the other solar-armed men to cease while he let the rest continue their futile attacks. He merely watched and waited. It was a smart plan, I must admit, for it worked. The glow from the swordsman’s blade grew fainter with each use. Before the glimmer faded into the blackness of night, the man made a wide horizontal stroke through the air and let out a loud bellow from his gut. An enormous arch of green and white light sliced through the air behind his blade and sailed towards the mass of attackers. Every man it touched fell to the snowy ground with burns across their bodies. They screamed as they smelled their flesh boil and watched their comrades die. Suddenly, the swordsman’s blade shattered, and the hilt flew like a rocket from his grip. It was a vain effort, it appeared, for there were still fifty or so men standing. The man with green eyes raised his pistol again, a smile etched across his stubbly face. 

‘You’re surrounded,’ the man with green eyes said impatiently and with a quiver in his voice. ‘Give up before I do something I will regret.’

“The swordsman shook his head. ‘You should not have followed me. The Vault is not meant for you.’

“The swordsman knew of my undercroft—the vaulted citadel left behind by the Old Ones under my protection. I did not understand how this could have been possible, and it greatly frightened me at the time. 

“Another man stepped forward, pressing his black hat close to his head as a gust of wind blew by. He was of average height and his face was hidden from me, though I saw that he had a thin black mustache. ‘You don’t know me,’ he said to the swordsman. Another gust of wind blew by, interrupting the audio for the next few words. When the camera adjusted, I continued to listen. ‘…found me in a faraway village where nearly everyone has died. Both my wife and daughter are gone, and I only barely made it out alive with my nephew. Many more will continue to die without your aid. Please, sir. Help us.’”

Sam continued to stare at her hand, and she clenched it to a fist. Her grip was so hard that she felt her nails digging into her skin. She could feel the warm blood oozing from within her palm. She didn’t care. The mention of the man in the black hat made her furious.

The man paused, perhaps to look at Sam as she balled her hand into a fist. When she still didn’t look up at him, he decided to continue. “Another growl of wind roared by, picking up the snow and dusting the men. The swordsman sighed heavily. ‘I am sorry to hear about your tragedies. Sadly, I cannot change my mind. I’ve been entrusted to the Vault for a reason and it is not meant for you. So long as I shall live, this world shall never again be the playground of tyrants. It’s not what she would have wanted.’ A strange statement, for he was not an Old One, and I had never heard of any others being assigned to guard my home. That was a duty all my own either until they returned or until my death. I was not sure if either would ever happen.

“The man with the black hat hung his head low in bitter disappointment. He wrinkled his face and looked to the green-eyed man, appearing to be just as angry. 

‘She? So you know of the Eternal Mother as well? What makes you think she chose you instead of me?’ the man with the green eyes asked.

“The swordsman remained silent and seemed to take a moment to collect his thoughts. He coughed violently and, as he did, the horde approached him slowly, perhaps unsure if he had any other tricks up his sleeve. ‘Do not come closer,’ he finally said as his cough subsided. ‘You and your men are not prepared for Svaldway’s cold winter nor are they true fighters. A decade was not enough to truly prepare you against me with the Voidsweeper.’

‘Your weapon is broken!’ boasted the man with green eyes, walking closer and pointing his pistol at the swordsman’s chest. ‘No more tricks, brother! It’s over, now let me in so I can save our planet.’

‘The loss of the blade is inconsequential. I will enter the Vault. You will not.’

‘Do you think you’re somehow worthier? Because of your blood? I am the Sun’s Chosen! She bestowed her holy weapons to me—not you! I am the one who should enter the Vault. Think of the good I could do with it!’

“I did not understand of what they were speaking. Entering the mountain had nothing to do with worth or human blood. Blood of the Old Ones, however? Yes, that would do it. I was even more intrigued now, wondering what would happen next. Surely no one could enter, I told myself, for acquiring blood of the Old Ones would be impossible. 

“The swordsman backed up slowly. ‘Those are not holy weapons—such things could never exist. Enochian technology is the very reason that I will never let you into the Vault.’

“I could not recall the last time I had heard that word used. Enochians. I was sure I once knew what it meant, but my memory came up short as though it were missing something critical. 

‘Enochians are about as real as the Vänalleatian Ascendants,’ said the man with green eyes. Only the Sun is true. She blessed me with these weapons with the purpose of reuniting the world. The Grand Vault is the last piece of that puzzle!’

“The swordsman groaned. ‘Do not test me. I did not bring you here for a reason. Go back home to our family. Maybe they’ll even take you back.’

“The man fired his pistol at the swordsman only to find himself shooting the mountainside as the swordsman dove to the ground. He crawled toward the entrance and clutched a vial that was hanging from around his neck. At this point I was concerned. The vial was full of a red viscous liquid. I feared for what would happen next, hoping beyond hope that it would not. Another part of my being, this part stranger and less familiar, found myself wanting the vial to be what I simultaneously feared. Despite my duty to the treasures within my home, I wanted the swordsman to enter. I wanted company, a friend. 

“The man who claimed to be the Sun’s Chosen reloaded his solar pistol with another fusion cell and readied his aim at the swordsman. His companions dared not make a move without command. A grave miscalculation, for the swordsman had ample time to smash the glass vial against the glowing blue gate to my home. Another siren blared through the halls asynchronously with the alarm which I had nearly forgotten. As the doors were opening I found myself faced with a choice, the first I had ever needed to make. Was I to let him in and risk everything for which I dedicated my life? Or was I to override his access and let him die? 

“The doors closed, and my decision was made. It was the first of many that would alter the course of the planet’s future. I did not think about that at the time: I only wanted a friend. This supposition both excited and frightened me. I had the profound desire to make contact with a person after an eternity of isolation. Yet people are notorious for their selfishness and destruction. That is why my undercroft was constructed—human greed and their devastating tendencies. 

“I rapidly shifted focus to the inside of the Vault and found the override to the sirens blaring through the halls. My eyes found the swordsman as he passed Sector 1. I finally had my first clear glimpse of the man. He was of a taller stature, nearly two meters in height by my estimates. He had very broad shoulders and was well built, broad and muscular. He had a pallor and a cough that continued as incessantly as the alarm. He was dressed in heavy furs from the waist down and carried a fur coat over his shoulder, evidently too warm with it inside. He wore what appeared to be a long-sleeved sweater, riddled with holes revealing an undershirt underneath. The sweater was covered in dirt and patches of blood, both old and new. The man wore thick leather boots that were sopping wet; he seemed to pay no mind to this any more than he did the blotches of blood covering his body. 

“The man had dark, brown eyes that looked intently at everything before him. There seemed to be a kind spirit behind these eyes—one that also carried a heavy burden and sorrow. He had a large and prominent nose that widened every few seconds as he inhaled deeply with great satisfaction. His hair was long and dark, pulled back and tied behind his head, roughly level with the middle of his ears. The tie that he used to put his hair together seemed to be from some kind of thin and tattered rope. His hair extended down between his shoulder blades. The man had a dark beard to match the dark hair on his head, and it was nowhere near as long or as neat. The beard protruded quite a few centimeters from his chin and cheeks. It was messy and unkempt, though it seemed practical to keep his face warm enough to protect him from the cold weather and harsh winds that he must have been exposed to outside.

“His mustache was much shorter than his beard, and it revealed full lips that were severely cracked. The dried lips were extended and spread apart, revealing a full smile on the man’s face. The sight of the chambers behind the entrance to Sector 5 seemed to bring immense joy to the man. He took off his wet boots as well as the stockings on his feet and placed them on the floor next to the entrance of Sector 5. He opened the door and entered. 

“At long last I was no longer alone. I had to keep myself from rejoicing just yet. This man could be here to steal from me. I initially doubted that it was a simple coincidence for him to be in Sector 5, given what the units in its chambers contained. Yet the man’s demeanor seemed so peaceful and pleasant. The look of awe upon his face as he explored the corridors implied that his intentions in coming to my home were not malicious. His head turned left and right at each of the chambers down the corridor as he examined the units within, never spending too much time to look at any particular one. He did not seem to be looking for anything. Instead, it appeared that he was simply exploring and embracing the moment.

“I decided to keep watching the man. For so long, I had been alone watching over the chambers and the treasure contained within them. But the treasure was not for me to use. Instead, they were placed here to help the people of the future. I was stationed here to watch over the treasure and to make sure it remained safe and that all the standardized settings were well regulated. I supposed I had just assumed that I was supposed to protect it from invaders as well. If the treasure was for them to use, why would I need to protect it from them? Perhaps it was because I was under the impression that many people outside had ill intentions and were not worthy of the treasure. Yes, that must be why I was afraid of an intruder. This then led me to my next question: how was I to determine if this man was worthy?

“I continued to watch the man and noticed that he had begun to mutter to himself as he paced down the corridor. ‘Well…finally made it…I only wish you were here to see it, my…. I wonder what…would think of this place, if I brought him along. I suppose…safer where he is…can watch over him better than I….’

“I could only make out so many words at a time as he continued to pace the hall, turning side to side and away from the cameras. The man seemed ecstatic as he continued to investigate the corridors within Sector 5. As he sauntered down the hall, he continued to mutter in a low and relaxed tone. I felt as though I was beginning to know him. Picking up bits and pieces of his monologue, I started to understand who he was talking to and what the conversation was about. I determined he was talking to his recently deceased spouse about their child. This man seemed to love his child very much. As far as I could tell, this man no longer had his child. Why would he leave his child behind? Was it taken from him? I continued to listen intently, anticipating the answers to my questions, but to no avail.

“I became desperate to learn more about this man. In the short time I spent watching him, I became certain I could trust him. The risk of exposing myself—of making myself vulnerable—was worth it. I could finally talk to someone and end the life of isolation I had suffered for far too long. Not only that, but I was enthusiastic about the chance to help this man. I could learn more about him and about his backstory. Maybe I could find a way to reunite him with his son. Those were my thoughts at the time; I never could have anticipated the events that would ensue years later. 

“The man made his way to the Sector 5 exit. He returned to his belongings and sat down on the floor next to them, leaning against the wall adjacent to the Sector’s entrance. He donned his boots, apparently drier than when he had left them due to the strong air circulation within the undercroft. He returned to his feet and gazed around him. It was at this point I noticed how heavy his eyes were. He seemed exhausted, unsure of where to go next. This was my chance to establish a relationship with the man.

‘Greetings, stranger!’ I said.

“The man shook with a great fright. He was apparently startled from hearing my voice, and he looked all around him to determine where my voice originated.

‘Please, do not be frightened. I am speaking to you from the overhead intercoms. There is ample space in Sector 23 that can serve as temporary living quarters. Why not go there and rest?’

“He circled around again, unsure of where to look. The man then responded with a slight tremble in his voice, ‘Where are you? How can you see me?’

‘I have been observing you through the cameras scattered throughout the facility since your arrival, uncertain as to whether I should make contact. Your presence here caught me off guard, but I welcome your company. Please, go to Sector 23 and rest. Perhaps we can get to know one another after that. Until then, allow me to introduce myself: my name is Mimir.’

“The man hesitated, then slowly nodded his head. He made his way forward, to Sector 23, and the world was ready to change.”

Sam smirked and finally looked the man in the eyes. They were bright green.