The Agent of Malus

Prologue/Chapter 1

Underneath the borders of Asgard, two brilliant masterminds sat at a midnight black-wooded table, playing chess. While many were out attempting to put a stop to the chaos going on outside the safe walls of the palace, they sat within them, strategizing. Planning out their next move.

King Andrei Kaison of Malus was dead.

Murdered, to be specific. They'd have gone out to find the guilty citizen, but they were busy trying to calm the uprisings.

The king had fallen, so the throne was unguarded.

"What is Atrocious's next move?" asked one of the masterminds, straightening their posture and taking an opposing pawn.

"We don't know," replied the other, doing the same. The first scowled. "She's in the wind, hidden from our ranks. Nobody I've sent has come back with enough information to give us a lead."

"But we know her goal," prodded the first, using one of their knights to land the second in a check. "She plans to take over the throne."

The second sighed, quickly saving their king by sliding them diagonally to the left. "That appears to be everyone's goal. The palace staff has been endlessly pledging their loyalties to the throne, but we don't know who to trust."

The first captured a bishop. "Who can't we trust, then?"

"Atrocious's army comes from all over. Some are even Asgardians hoping to take our lands back for themselves. We can't trust any of them, and though they're easier to spot here, we'll never be able to tell which Asgardians can be trusted," the second explained, moving a pawn.

"Then we will send them all back and strike a deal with Odin," said the first, sliding their queen forward. "He will keep his people out of our lands while we calm the chaos."

"Are you sure that he will consent to that?" asked the second, surprise attacking the first's knight and removing it from the board. "He hasn't been tending to any chaos outside of Asgard. Odin has fallen weak."

"It's either that or Atrocious's army grows. We can't allow an uprising," the first replied simply, moving an unplayed pawn forward and taking an opposing pawn.

"Look, Frost, we can try everything we want, but there's only one way to end this." said the second, moving a rook. "We need to get someone on the throne."

The first mastermind, Titus Frost, arched an eyebrow and moved his pawn up further. "So what are we to do, Anderson? Andrei had no heiress."

"That is not entirely true," said the second, Synnove Anderson, moving her bishop up a few squares and taking Frost's. "Check, by the way."

"Care to elaborate?" Frost said sneeringly, shifting the position of his king.

"Remember the girl?" Anderson said flatly, locking eyes with Frost. His ever-present poker face did not waver as he watched her place him back in a check. "His daughter."

"I seem to recall him having one. But she is dead," he stated, his gaze still trained on Anderson as he shifted his king's position once again.

"No," Anderson replied. "She is alive, on Midgard."

"Impossible," Frost dismissed, "A girl with as much power as her could never thrive in a world such as Midgard."

"And yet she has been," Anderson responded calmly. "She is the heiress to the throne. She is the only one who can take it, as long as she's still alive."

Frost sighed. "There is no way our lives rest in her hands. She must be barely trained."

"And yet she is still our only hope."

"Perhaps. Perhaps we could still get her on the throne, with time. But there's a flaw in your little plan, Anderson," Frost pushed his pawn forward.

"Which is?"

"The girl has been missing for months," Frost reminded her as Anderson took one of his rooks. "Nobody knows where she is or how to find her. Nobody on Midgard could have enough skill to find a sorceress such as her."

Anderson gave a tiny smile. "You underestimate the humans, my dear Titus. I believe I know a few who could find her. Even the Midgardians have their share of brilliance."

"How so? Because if Midgard's 'FBI' can't find her..." Frost pushed his pawn to Anderson's edge of the board and turned it into a bishop. "Who's to say that anyone else could?"

"She has friends."

"How would they know where she is?"

"They don't," Anderson's grin grew wider. "But I believe I know of two who have enough brilliance to find her."

"Well, Anderson..."

Frost slid his new bishop down the board, parking it towards his own end of the board and completing his plan.

"Let's hope you're right," he finished. "Oh, and in the meantime... checkmate."

Anderson looked down, finding herself backed into a corner. Her king could no longer move without being put in jeopardy. As she studied the pieces, she realized she could relate to the wooden monarch- she was backed into a corner with one solution left.

"I surrender," she declared.

Frost grinned, moving his knight and taking her king.

"If this works..." he said slowly, "We might just get out of the little check we've placed ourselves into."

Anderson nodded, beginning to collect her pieces."We just might."