Your Narrator Sets Out to Survive
The first thing I do is find a leather band from the side of the bed and tie up my hair—honestly, there’s just so much of it [1].
Then I methodically go through every nook and cranny.
Money? Check. Some coins from the pillow and a finely carved wooden comb that’ll probably sell for a nice price at a market somewhere [2].
Food? Check. Some jerky drying by the fireplace I pull down, a couple of sweet potatoes and apples tucked away in sacks by a corner, and a leather flask half-filled with water.
Potions?—I discard the idea as quickly as I think of it. Magic exists in Chess Games of Blood, but can only be (legally) used on behalf of the king, so I’m more likely to die being caught with it than to be saved by it. Anyway, as far as I know, the Morrells have no magic anyway, Alex is the only one to possess the talent in the Keep [3]. So no check, but crossed off the mental list.
Finally—Weapons.
I eye the bows dubiously. Technically, they are weapons, but since I’m not actually an archer, they’re next to useless to me. Aurelia is a hunter, so maybe—
I dive through the stuff Aurelia keeps hanging around the fire, and ultimately emerge, triumphant, with a small knife in a leather holster. It’s small and shiny and sharp, and though my stomach roils at the thought of ever actually using it, I pocket it anyway. Even if I manage to escape tonight's massacre, this world isn’t a very nice one.
So. That's all of it. By the time I'm all packed up, which takes just a few minutes, everything neatly into a makeshift sling bag, made from some coarse cloth lying around the cabin. It's a little frightening to think this is everything that stands between me and being totally empty-handed in this world, but beggars can't be choosers.
Once I've thrown the bag over a shoulder, I walk towards the door and reach for the latch—and an image bursts to the front of my mind, so blindingly vivid it makes my heart pound: Mrs. Morrell, coming back home, looking in horror at cabin ransacked, her valuables gone, her daughter nowhere to be found. My stomach clenches. My parents didn't raise a thief—but that's exactly what I'm doing. Steal.
I swallow, presses down the queasy feeling, and shake off the image.
It’s stupid to feel any guilt. Soon Aurelia’s mom won’t have any use for these items anyway.
Still, my hands feel too cold and stiff when they ultimately manage to unlatch the door and make it out into the sunlight.
I walk into a tableau of flaw—dazzlingly clear sky, brisk winds, a sea of tree leaves in a riotous array of red, orange, and gold. It’s the the type of day when you should host the Harvest Festival. The world of Chess Games of Blood is so dark I would’ve never thoughts such a scene possible. Yet, here was the scene in front of me, so crisp, breathtaking even—
I shake myself out of my tourist appreciation.
“You’re about to die, keep focused,” I mutter to myself, my hands tight on the handle of the sling on my back. It doesn't matter that the world is so much more than the gloomy grey world I had in my mind. Its beauty doesn't change anything I should or shouldn't.
I bite my lip, and turn away from the sun—towards the West. If I remember the book’s map right, to the North lies the kingdom’s enemy the Hannu, to the East the kingdom’s capital Augusta. Since the capital sent the attackers, naturally, I should go int the totally opposite direction.
I nod, square my shoulder, and move determinedly forward, my shadow stretching out in front of me and across the packed-dirt road.
I don’t look back.
There’s nothing for me worth looking back at. At dawn, it'll all just be fire and ash.
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1. Why does Aurelia Prime even keep her hair this long? How does she even do any hunting with it always in her face? (Don’t answer me, I’m aware: author aesthetics).
2. I mean, I have to come across a market some time? There’s one at Silverwood Keep, and RPG games always have a market in every new area map. That had to be based on some medieval reality.
3. Not that Alex knows that. Yet (It was a Big Plot Point in the novel).