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Loyal Subjects

The long, long winter showed no signs of ending.

The forest was a monochrome landscape, painted in black and white. The ground, covered in deep snow, revealed no hint of spring’s arrival, and the countless trees that stood tall like giants against the winter sky held withered leaves and dry branches, resembling ebony skeletons that had long been exposed.

An icy gust of wind blew past.

Whoosh!

When the wind subsided, a peculiar group appeared out of nowhere, their small figures wrapped in pure white.

Her Majesty doesn’t have much time left! A young knight thought, gritting his teeth.

He stood at the vanguard, scanning his surroundings warily as they traversed an untrodden path through the snow-covered forest.

He appeared much too young. He was clad in medieval armor that bore countless nicks, blackened blood seeping from beneath the white bandages wrapped around his body.

The knight was determined to protect what seemed to be the queen riding atop a white horse—no, judging from the single horn on its head, it was the legendary unicorn. The queen herself was a girl with rosy cheeks, not much older than the knight. Her curly, golden hair cascaded over her back, and she wore a delicate tiara that resembled a candy sculpture. Her beauty was striking, but her face trembled with exhaustion.

A clump of snow fell from the bare trees. The queen shivered. Her pure-white wings unfurled, and her slender neck stretched forward like that of a swan about to take flight. The weakened queen was on the verge of falling off the unicorn’s back.

Two agile young girls walking on either side immediately held her up. Sporting short blonde hair, they bore a striking resemblance with each other, almost like twins. A closer look revealed their human form to extend only to their waists, loosely wrapped in white silk garments, while their lower bodies belonged to those of fawns, adorned with pretty brown spots. Their movements were agile and swift, but the occasional stumbling betrayed fatigue as they pressed forward.

Following close behind the queen was a small-framed priest garbed in a thick, white robe stained with blood and grime. His large, droopy eyes flickered with both hope and anxiety, despite his youthful appearance. It seemed as if dried-up tears had stained his face, but that wasn’t the case. Ink-black tears were streaming endlessly from his lovely, puppy-like eyes.

How long… the young knight wondered. He glanced back at the fatigued queen, holding back his tears. How long have we been fighting? With each step forward, his legs grew as heavy as lead.

“And for what purpose?”

He could hear the queen’s wings quivering.

If only we could live in peace. I want to return to that village by the lakeside. How long has it been? My father, my mother, my sister… We would till the fields during the day and share wine with friends in the evening. And on autumn nights, when we ventured out onto the lake with our boat, little fairies would fly in from somewhere, perch on our shoulders, and sing to us…

He choked back his tears. His legs only grew heavier.

Who started this battle, and why? We, the common people, are clueless. All we can do is protect Her Majesty the Queen and return to His Majesty the King.

He gazed back at the column. Her Majesty, weak and trembling on the back of the unicorn. The priest shedding black tears. And further behind them were members of various creatures from legends—a beautiful, but pale-faced, cloaked vampire, fangs peeking out of their lips, a male and female pair of werewolves covered in thick fur from head to toe, and an elderly giant, whose body was as huge as a hill.

So these are the only survivors. Oh, what a once abundant forest it was! Oh gods, oh heavens, please save us pitiful souls…

The knight’s pallid cheeks contorted, and he gnawed at his lips sorrowfully.

---

How far they had traveled, it was impossible to tell.

After marching through the snowy forest for what felt like an eternity, a voice suddenly rang out.

“We’re under attack!”

The knight swiftly turned around, unsheathing his sword and taking a defensive stance. The half-human, half-beast girls in front of the queen cautiously scanned the surroundings, their short golden hair fluttering in the wind.

And then, a thunderous roar echoed. A jet-black tank appeared out of nowhere, cleaving through the forest. Balls of fiery red flames tore through the sky with tremendous speed. The white group of fairies scattered in all directions, screaming in terror. The tank rumbled as it advanced, approaching the knight at incredible speeds.

A deafening noise came from above. He looked up and saw black fighter jets closing in. Black specks fell… and before he could think, they hit the ground and exploded.

Horses neighed, followed by courageous shouts. When he turned around, a group of adult knights, clad in armor and riding magnificent white horses, was headed towards them. The young knight breathed a sigh of relief at the arrival of their allies.

“Father! Brother!”

“Where’s Her Majesty the Queen?”

“She’s safe, but…”

“We’ll leave her in your care. Ah, get down!”

A ball of fire launched from the tank landed on the ground right next to them. The young knight desperately rushed to protect the queen. Behind the tanks was a group of enemies dressed in black.

Why were they fighting? Who were these unforgivable enemies? No one knew the answers at this point. The war had broken out in an instant.

The small-framed priest stepped forward, and from the group of black-clad individuals emerged a man who appeared like a priest as well. However, strangely enough, beneath the black garb was mismatching attire—a business suit and leather shoes. And his features were that of a cold-hearted businessman, not of someone pious.

The petite priest in white robes clasped his hands together and began chanting a spell. It should have been a devastating move, but for some reason, it had no effect on the black priest. The spells of the Old World had no power over the disbelieving New World. Ink-black tears flowed from the white priest’s eyes. Overwhelmed by his powerlessness, he retreated, sobbing convulsively.

Next, a brave knight on a white horse stepped forward. From the black group, a warrior also emerged—a woman, much to their surprise. She had black hair pulled into a bun, wore cold-looking glasses and simple, knee-length business skirt. The tips of her black, high-heeled shoes were pointed like horns.

The knight dismounted his horse and readied his sword. “Hearken! I am…”

Paying no heed to the man’s speech, the woman quickly pulled out a gun for self-defense and shot the proud medieval knight right in the forehead. The knight collapsed with a thud.

“Father!” the young knight shouted.

His voice roused the others, and the battle escalated in an instant. The tanks started moving again, mowing down the gallant knights on white horses one by one. Blood stained the pure-white snow, and black tree branches burst into flames. Black, state-of-the-art fighter jets streaked across the sky, shooting down flocks of ancient birds. The heat of the engines melted the wings of half-naked, pale-skinned boys, sending them crashing to the ground.

The young knight and the half-human, half-beast girls retreated deeper into the forest, surrounding the queen. Her Majesty was already slumped on the back of the unicorn, her eyes closed. Her long eyelashes quivered.

I don’t know why we’re fighting, but we must protect Her Majesty. For our souls. We must…

“Something’s off. Don’t you sense it?” said one of the deer-legged girls.

“What is it?” The young knight asked, looking up at the sky.

For a while now, it felt as if the very sky itself was shifting, causing a disorienting dizziness. He groaned, trying to comprehend what was happening.

“Our White Army is dwindling,” the girl added.

“Yeah. The Old World just keeps losing numbers.”

“No, that’s not all. People are changing sides.” The girl pointed, her golden hair bouncing.

The young knight squinted, and his breath caught. The drivers of the jet-black, sturdy tanks were supposed to be the black-clad people of the New World, people far removed from the wonders and mystery of the old. But a closer inspection revealed fairies from the Old World—the cotton-like golden hair, mischievous green eyes, and discreetly folded transparent wings.

Looking up, the knight saw red hair resembling crimson flames in the fighter jets’ cockpits.

“Unbelievable!”

“Some of our own have turned to the Black Army. They’re changing sides to save themselves. That’s why we’re struggling. They will pay for their betrayal. We can’t afford to lose.”

“Stay focused. Our duty is to protect Her Majesty. It’s the adults’ responsibility to defeat the king and queen of the Black Army. Follow me, this way!”

“I understand, but it’s frustrating…”

Glancing back, the young knight caught sight of the Black Queen in the distance. She was perched on the hood of a shiny black car, legs crossed. With her sleek black hair, glaring red lipstick, and a chic pantsuit paired with black enamel boots, she seemed more like a capable businesswoman than a queen, despite the tiara adorning her head.

Gritting his teeth, he glared at her fixedly.

Then, out of nowhere, a pale-faced man with a flowing cape descended gracefully from the treetops. A middle-aged vampire with graying blonde hair and cold-blooded green eyes. An eyepatch covered his one eye. Landing on the car with the elegance and indifference of a noble, he sank his teeth into the Black Queen’s neck from behind.

The Queen let out a scream. Soldiers in suits fired their guns, riddling the vampire’s back with holes. Deafening roars reverberated throughout the forest. Knights on white horses rushed to the scene, their mounts neighing.

The Black Queen’s face grew pale, blood trickling from the corner of her lips. The vampire toppled against the queen’s chest from behind, then turned into gray sand before vanishing, leaving only his cape, which was blown away by the wind. The queen herself was wide-eyed and on the brink of death.

Certain that victory was within their grasp, the young knight’s eyes sparkled.

Somewhere down the line, we forgot why we were fighting. Day in and day out, we battled, both sides battered and lost in the forest. A ceaseless conflict with no salvation in sight. But it ends now, with us achieving victory. Ah, what’s happening? The ground is shaking. This dizziness… Wh-Who is that? The giant face in the frozen winter sky… It’s beautiful yet sinister, much like our queen…

Suddenly, the forest rumbled, and the ground tilted.

The lifeless body of the Black Queen, the car she sat in, the vampire’s discarded cape, the tanks, the knights on white horses. Everything toppled toward the knight. Even the fighter jets soaring above and the winged boys began to plummet. The young knight, the White Queen, the unicorn, the priest—all of them helplessly descended from the battlefield into the abyss.

“Checkmate!” declared a low, husky voice.

A colossal, divine face floated in the sky above.

The face of the girl, resembling a fairy from the ancient world with her extraordinary beauty, golden hair, and emerald eyes, gazed down at them with an expression as cold as ice. Her glossy, cherry lips parted again.

“Chess truly is an elaborate way to consume intellect.”

Chess?

Oh, right. After the grueling battle, just as victory is within our grasp, the ground trembles, and we fall. And then, I realize I’m back on the battlefield. Sometimes we emerge victorious, sometimes we suffer defeat. We lose our precious queen or valiantly defeat the enemy. But it’s nothing new. I remember now.

When the battle ends, this is what happens.

“Your Majesty,” the young knight weakly called out, finally letting his hidden emotions rise to the surface.

As whiteness enveloped his vision, a faint smile graced the lips of the White Queen beside him. Summoning her last bit of strength, she spread her majestic wings, sheltering the knight within their embrace.

For a fleeting moment, the young knight found himself alone with the Queen, an ethereal being unlike any other.

“Ah, it’s starting again,” the knight said.

“Yes.”

“An endless repetition, Your Majesty. We are neither human nor fairies. We are mere chess pieces created by humans. That’s why we shed blood on the battlefield, only to…”

“Let us meet again on a different battlefield, my dear knight. Rise and fight for me once more.”

“Your wish is my command.”

“Together, we shall continue the fight.”

The young knight closed his eyes. He wished for this bittersweet yet blissful moment to last forever.

---

Inside the charming room of a quiet candy house, nestled deep within the flowerbed maze of St. Marguerite Academy, Victorique sat silently, garbed in a frilly, puffed-up white nightgown. She idly swung her small feet clad in pale pink slippers.

It was a snowy morning, the silvery sun shining in the wintry sky stretching beyond the window.

Before her sat a grand antique chessboard placed on a cabriole-legged table. The intricate and magnificent pieces, though scattered across the table, seemed animated, as if ready to spring into motion.

A clump of snow fell from the roof. From the distance came the faint clamor of students. Victorique wondered what all the noise was about, then came upon a realization.

“Today is that day. I see. No wonder everybody is in such high spirits. Hmm… In that case, Kujou would not be visiting for a while.” She nodded to herself. “It is time for another battle, my little actors.”

Muttering to herself, she picked up the chess pieces with her chubby fingers and arranged them on the board. The white queen, the king, the knight, and the bishop… Then, on the opposing side, the black pieces…

Her green eyes gleamed with delight, and she nodded.

---

It is time for another battle, my little actors.

Her cruel, divine voice served as their signal.

The long, long winter showed no signs of ending.

The black branches of the snow-covered forest’s bare trees stretched out like skeletons. The White Army continued their march, guarding their stern king and the young queen.

The White Queen was sitting astride a white unicorn, her small, bird-like wings spread wide.

Two girls with short golden hair accompanied her, their deer legs prancing nimbly.

Knights rode their white horses in a protective circle around them. Among the sturdy men, a young boy knight nervously trailed behind his father and older brother, as if it were his first taste of battle.

A petite priest riding in a delicate white carriage recited an incantation with closed eyes. The spell caused frigid wind to swirl around the carriage, enveloping it in warm air.

Ancient birds and winged boys soared in the sky. Down the column were various creatures—vampires, werewolves, trolls riding on giants’ shoulders or backs, weeping banshees, mermaids splashing in tanks.

Their faces were bright with rich history. No signs of weariness or impatience were visible yet.

The column moved forward without a single disruption, stretching on endlessly. It resembled an unbroken silver serpent from above. Rhythmic footsteps echoed through the wintry forest.

The battle had only just begun.

God, protect us.