The grand hall buzzed with anticipation, It was the first round of the candidates tournament, everyone with all kind of ratings were there, the elites were there at the side, waiting for a worthy challenger who could satisfy their brains and finally steal the crown of the world champion and then there was sudden creaking of the grand door and a lean figure appeared through the door, every one who was once focused suddenly stopped looking at the board and looked at the one who just appeared it was Maheeriya Hannan. Reporters, spectators and fellow competitors whispered among themselves

"Isn't she the one who drew the world champion ?",

" isn't she the one from Palestine?",

"I thought she was dead",

their eyes darted towards the entrance, The world had not seen her six long years, yet there she was, stepping into the the game once again. Her presence was a shock, a mystery.

She just stood there at the entrance, taking a moment to breathe in the familiar smell of polished chess pieces. It was the first day of fall and the air was thick with the tension of high stakes. The stress of the players in a worse position lingered in the air, the smell of ink from the reporters' notepad. She was dressed in an simple yet elegant black coat which revealed her ankles, she exuded a quiet confidence that masked the storm inside her, all that she had suffered,. Her heterochromatic eyes, one blue and one green scanned the details while still trying to keep her head hung low in order to avoid the eyes of people who didn't know in which one to stare.

As she walked towards the registration desk, a husk fell over the crowd, whispers turned into murmurs as she registered her name in the tournament, the elite players looked satisfied as if they had finally found a worthy opponent, along with Arthur René, who had just resigned in order to rush to her for answers. Meeru turned back, holding her registration papers after writing her name in the form only to find Arthur there staring at her hungry for answers.

"Where were you all this time?"

The camera flashing intensifies,

Meeru looked in his eyes not being able to utter a single word,

"I'm your Best friend, you should answer me"

"Oh I don't think you are", she scoffs as she brushes past him.

She stops in her shoes for a second and then turns her torso back to him while he is still standing there like a statue

"If you were really my best friend, or you cared about me, at least, you would've tried to find me "

He walked towards her and grabbed her hand forcefully, a thought of her being held in a similar way in a dull drab cell rushed through her mind, she forced herself to come back to reality and hisses in pain, Arthur immediately let's go.

"You don't know what happened" he says trying to hold back from making a face that would make him look weak,

"No, YOU don't know what happened"

She says with a stern look on her face,

She then went to another desk in order to submit the documents, but it was just an excuse to not have a conversation with him. As she handed her papers to the official, the murmurs in the crowd became louder, with unanswered questions, of course her sudden disappearance had left a void of rumors.

"Is that really her?"

"Where was she all this time?"

"She looks.....different"

"Welcome back Miss Maheeriya" the official said with his voice a mixture of awe and professionalism " We've been expecting you."

Meeru nodded, her lips curled into a faint smile. "Thank you", she replied softly. Her voice though quiet, carried a silence that fell across the room.

The tournament hall was always a familiar battle field, but today it felt like a mine field. As she made her way to the assigned table, memories flooded through her mind, when she was just eleven and was walking towards an assigned table just like this and that match at that table turned out to be the change in her life. She had just drawn the world champion, her cheeks flushed red and her heart was going crazy, she looked at the world champion in awe when he asked her for a draw, she knew it was gonna end in a draw, but as she shook his hand in an act of sportsmanship, she felt like as if she was just a step away from being on top of the world, yet she had stumbled all the way down of the stairs. All the reporters and journalists praising her and congratulating her on this great feat

"Maheeriya Hannan, the first woman and junior player to ever draw a world champion", she heard on the speakers as she looked at her parents who looked so proud they could give her the entire world. She ran towards them and hugged her dad, the reporters and journalists surrounded them.

"Sir, how will you celebrate this feat?'

"We will go back to Palestine, celebrate with the entire family"

Meeru in his dad's arms looked so excited upon hearing the word home

She was so excited to meet Sadet on whom she had a crush on ever since he came to their home. He was just a few months older than her, yet so mature. The poor boy had lost his parents in war, his weak frame was on the verge of being shattered, injured and broken, her parents gave him a place to live.

She couldn't think of the horrors that came ahead, not right now, at least. She pushes those thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand. This was her arena, her battleground, her sanctuary all in one

Seated across from her was a young, ambitious player, eyes wide with a mix of fear and respect. He knew who she was, knew the legend that surrounded her name. Meeru gave him a courteous nod as she sat down, her long, curly jet-black hair with white highlights that gleamed in the dim light that lightened the chess board, covered her shoulders.

As the game commenced, the room's attention was entirely on Meeru. Each move she made was scrutinized, each decision analyzed. But Meeru was not just playing a game; she was reclaiming her life, one move at a time.

The match was intense, a battle of wits and strategy. Meeru's mind was sharp, her moves calculated with the precision of a surgeon. She felt the familiar thrill of competition, the rush of adrenaline that came with each successful maneuver. But behind her calm exterior, a storm brewed.

With each move, flashbacks of her past resurfaced, The flight back to home, the scenes she saw from outside the planes' window, the celebrations with her family, meeting Sadet again who was hiding and would not come out because he was so shy to meet her again, she almost chuckled at this though, they were both sixteen. After all Sadet had joined the military later to avenge the death of his parents, lost in the chaos of war. Meeru's hand trembled as she made a crucial move, but she regained her strength from the memories of her family and Sadet

The game ended in a checkmate. Meeru had won, but it was more than just a victory. It was a statement, a declaration of her return. The room erupted in applause, but Meeru's thoughts were elsewhere. She glanced at the scars on her wrist, barely visible but ever-present reminders of her past. She had survived, but at what cost?

As the applause died down, a journalist approached her cautiously. "Miss Meeru, can you tell us where you've been all these years?"

Meeru met his gaze, her eyes reflecting a mixture of pain and resilience. "I've been fighting my own battles," she replied cryptically, "and now, I'm here to win."

The journalist nodded, sensing the weight of her words. Meeru turned back to the chessboard, her mind already on the next challenge. She knew her journey was far from over. The past haunted her, but it also fueled her. She was here to reclaim her life, her title, and perhaps, one day, her love.