“The Blackest Queen” — FWG Flash Fiction for 11/29/2025
- Rob Johnson
- 12 hours ago
- 2 min read
Jealous covetousness can have dire consequences, but it can sometimes craft something enduring.
The prompt is:
THE BLACKEST QUEEN
The shopkeeper handed the Black Queen to Rosalyn.
“What are they made of?”
He eyed Rosalyn slyly. “Ah, that is a most interesting legend.” His voice squeaked a bit like Peter Lorre’s.
“What legend?”
He gave Rosalyn a broad smile. “Ah, let me explain. There is a valley high on the slopes of Fire Mountain. Along one side of this Valley of Sorrows runs a seam of the blackest obsidian.”
He nodded to the Black Queen.
“And the white pieces?”
“On the opposite side of the valley runs a dazzling layer of the purest quartz to be found anywhere.”
He picked up the White Queen and dropped it into Rosalyn’s cupped hand.
“These two queens were sisters. One—” he nodded to the White Queen, “—had the purest heart and was loved by everyone. The other…oh, the other was black of heart, wanting only what her more beautiful sister had.”
He took the pieces and placed them on the board next to a lit censer, whose scent wafted in the air about their heads.
“On the White Queen’s wedding night, the Black Queen disguised herself as her sister and seduced the unsuspecting White King. When the subterfuge was discovered, war was declared, and the armies met for a great battle in a verdant river valley on Fire Mountain.”
The swirling incense seemed to make the chess pieces come to life, and Rosalyn imagined them charging at each other.
“The armies fought a great battle, devastating the once-beautiful valley and making the river run red with blood. So angry was the mountain to see such carnage that it erupted, wiping out everyone and turning them into the stone Royal Courts and armies you see before you.”
With head swirling and without asking the price, Rosalyn cried, “I’ll take it!”
THE END