As soon as I said the words ‘fucking heal’, an intense feeling of sickness overwhelmed me and I doubled over, only staying in the air thanks to my Lock. It felt like my head was literally being split open and my brain manhandled, and I gagged at the sensation. Even Queen groaned in agony as my vision swam from the strain.
[Congratulations! You have been granted an Ability!]
[I Command Bee, HEAL
Level 1
Acquired by: Through experimentation and desire, you figured out how to perform simple healing for the sake of your hive. A breakthrough was achieved when you solidified your Mind, envisioned the result, and acted within your unique nature to give a simple command.
At your behest, any creature of your choosing connected to your Kin Link will have some of your Mind condensed within their body, speeding and enhancing possible healing processes. Only Linked creatures can be made to heal. Only works on fresh wounds.
Level up: Heal a creature from a grievous wound.
]
I tried my best to make sense of the words in my face. So I did it? It was that easy? I took a bleary look at my newly broken claw, finding it mostly mended. It wasn’t healed to full, but even as I watched, globules of Mind healing juice oozed out of the arm into place and solidified. The big liquid ball had suddenly disappeared, but apparently it was somehow within my body now. The process would be long and annoying, but it worked!
But what the hell was with these conditions? Only being able to heal those in my hive? Seems sort of arbitrary.
Queen’s pained groans abated somewhat, conveniently just in time to make my ramblings coherent. “Sure, but who cares? Healing our children - and I suppose anybody within the hive - is what we truly want. If those limitations are the burden the gods wish to stick us with, it is fine, in my opinion.”
Not wrong. But what caused this Ability to have such a constraint? Is it super powerful or something? It doesn’t seem like it now, but I suppose it’s not impossible. Since it has the capability to level up, that must mean it’s weak now and can become much stronger.
“I don’t think an Ability’s power necessarily causes limitations - look at Combined Minds. That Ability is absurd and has no drawbacks. No, I think there is either more we still do not understand about Abilities, or the gods have a firmer hand in play than we expected.”
We both took a moment to chew on that. I’d much rather be ignorant about Abilities than know the gods are playing with us like fucking tabletop game characters. I had already assumed they were integral in the process of creating Abilities, but for some reason it didn’t fully register that they might be able to change the Ability extensively. Well if they were going to play like that, I’d play right back. Plans already began to form, stuff like Linking a squirrel or whatever to serve as fodder for leveling the Ability to bypass any reservations about hurting my bees.
But who cares! I made an Ability with much less difficulty than expected. Sure, I had to break my own arm to get a fresh wound or whatever, but such things were a small price to pay. I gleefully held up my arm, which was just about finished stitching itself back into place. If this thing worked the way I thought it did, then I had essentially just gotten every Linked creature some slow auto-regen. How hilarious was that?
As the final tiny pieces of chitin clicked into place, I waved my claw triumphantly. Hm? That headache seems a bit familiar. Don’t tell me it’s Mind Colla-
______
Belle poked the small bowl of honey sitting in front of her, sighing aimlessly. All the golden ichor did was remind her of her twin, and boy, did she miss Bella dearly. She hadn’t seen her dear sister in such a long time.
“You know we can talk whenever we want, right? I can’t be at family dinner tonight, but it’s not like we’re actually apart.”
Another sighed escaped Belle’s thoughts. It was almost like she could hear the arrogant, prickly, self-centered bee even now. Grabbing the waxy bowl with a thought, she inspected the fairly new dining room. A massive open-air globe was attached precariously to the central hive opposite the nursery, swaying in the wind. The wax structure was thin and incomplete, merely a scaffolding for a larger project to come, and Bella had to admit that it was impressive. Bess really did have a talent for this sort of thing, not to mention the sudden competitive spark she had been nurturing since the hive had witnessed human civilization. The ball easily held the current numbers of the hive, with plenty of room for more, and allowed each bee to set their food down while simultaneously keeping them all in view of each other.
Well, Bedivere and Behemoth had to stay outside. But they had their own little perches all to themselves attached to the outside.
With just a hint of curiosity, she happened to notice an odd quirk of the structure. Or rather, how the bees were occupying it. Belle rested upon her own personal seat, suspended near the center of the globe. Closest to her were her subordinates, Beverly, Bela, Beth and Beau, sitting just behind her. To her left was an empty seat for Belle, and her right was occupied by Beck. The rest of her generation were sitting at similar distances, only missing Ben, who was out at the moment. And Bess, but she was occupied. Further from the center were other bees, such as the subordinates of the other leads, and further were the warriors. Buzzing along the walls of the structure were the senseless Drones and Linkers, only parting so Bedivere and Behemoth could peek inside. Those mindless bees were still part of the family, so, of course, they were present. Although, all they did was efficiently eat their food and immediately rest to conserve energy.
She looked at the warriors, who, instead of sitting calmly in place, were clumped at a certain spot beneath her. Most of them were Unnamed, but such a thing was not affecting their revelry. Honestly. They did know the food stores weren’t infinite, right?
Belle took another sip. Though some of her family could be bothersome, and though she might rather be working, she quite enjoyed the family dinners. They all did. The commands of Mother overcame even their ceaseless appetite for labor.
But this particular dinner was strange. A quick glance at the place of honor at the center of the ball, the only complete portion of the structure, was all one needed to see the reason why. No Mother. For the first time since the inception of the fabled ‘Family Dinner’, Mother was not present. They had always waited for her, or simply canceled when she was busy, but never had they had one without her. Beatrice was also not present in her seat beside Mother’s, but the explanation for that wasn’t hard to figure out.
“Eat, Beatrice, eat! Glory for the hive!” Bess shouted, shaking the Aide in question like a squirrel. Beatrice rubbed her arms, but complied, downing an entire cup of honey in a single swig. The bees cheered, particularly the warriors gathered around them. Along with Beck and Bess, the warriors had insisted they hold a celebratory family dinner to celebrate Beatrice’s victory against the fernen leader, and Beatrice eventually relented. Belle didn’t quite understand; what was the point of a family dinner without Mother? But they had insisted. And when Beck so passionately hummed about how Mother would have wanted them to celebrate their individual accomplishments, who could refuse?
And so, the entire hive buzzed beneath the waning sun, eating their fill. Bess and the warriors egged Beatrice on once more, and Belle smirked at seeing the Aide so flustered, unlike her regular self. Once, the warriors would likely never have dreamed of doing these things, but they had begun to see Beatrice in a new light since her fight. One of true respect for a fellow warrior. Honestly, Belle did too. Not the warrior thing, but she saw Beatrice differently.
They were all afraid of her, of course. Not because she had a powerful Mind. Not because her Ability, Aide Authority, could gain control of anyone in the hive at a thought. Not because of the influence she had on Mother.
Nah, it was just because she’s Beatrice. Enough said.
Even so, all the bees were enjoying themselves. Beck was humming pleasant tunes, Beryl was letting herself be rowdy with the other warriors, and Belial was whispering to Beau nearby. Ah, right. Those two and their obsession with the electhingery. Belle had a passing interest, of course. It was for that reason Beau was technically under her command, after all. But it was nowhere near as deep as the curiosity held by the Valkybee and the inventor.
Beth mechanically raised the bowl to her mouth and swallowed while the other two barely touched their meal. Whether they were nervous because of the grand warrior Belial’s presence or they were simply exhausted, Belle didn’t care to understand. Well, most of the bees in their generation were a bit timid anyway.
“Beatrice, can you tell Ma to give me a name?!”
“Yeah, me two!”
“Me bee!”
Some of the warriors called out to Beatrice, taking the opportunity to inquire about something they would never dare ask otherwise. Perhaps they had gotten a bit too caught up in their revelry. Belle could sympathize, though. A name was power, both in Mind and mind. Perhaps because of the boost it gave to a bee’s mental fortitude, being given a name could even affect their actual power. She knew she would be desperately trying to prove herself if she hadn’t been given a name early on. Had she earned it? No, perhaps not. But all bees had come to accept being Named was special, symbolically and otherwise. Belle’s generation was special in some way, and so they were all immediately named. Same with Beau’s generation of Workers.
But being Unnamed wasn’t bad at all. There was a reason they had taken that name rather than the Nameless or some other dour moniker. There was always a chance. It wasn’t that they would never be named, they simply weren’t named yet.
Such a social hierarchy felt… strange to Belle. It felt right, and yet it felt strange. Where did she fall into it? To say there wasn’t any hierarchy was foolishness itself, of course. Beatrice fell directly beneath Mother, second only to her. Bedivere probably landed somewhere above Belle. Maybe the Valkybees, but they were in a bit of a limbo. Beck was also quite powerful in that regard. But otherwise?
She liked to think she was right there.
Of course, such a thing wasn’t necessarily true just yet. Her job was extremely important, sure, but she didn’t command anywhere near the number of forces of, say, Bess. At least, not in pure numbers. Belle was unique in that she had the most Named Workers. And she knew her subordinates would soon grow to epic proportions. She controlled the food alongside her twin. She brought the new generations into being. And she suspected that any miscellaneous prospects would also fall under her jurisdiction.
It wasn’t something she thought about often, but she had more intimate knowledge of the plans to come for the hive’s forces. Soon, new queens would be born. Would they surpass the Hive Five, Belle’s generation, in social status? Would she be tossed by the wayside, forgotten in favor of some new queen’s authority? No. She wouldn’t allow it. There was no way she would let herself be separated from Mother like that.
“Enough of this.” Beatrice paused to take another sip. She was being carefree, wasn’t she? “You must earn it. A name is something given by Mother. You will remain Unnamed until the time comes that you accomplish something for the hive.”
“Does that mean you can get another name? Since you beat that moss dude?” Bend laughed, flexing as usual. Though he had fewer arms to flex nowadays. Beatrice suddenly looked very uncomfortable.
“Another name? Preposterous. Besides, I’d not like to be overly prideful about my actions. Such a thing is unbecoming of a member of the hive.”
Some of the bees, especially the Unnamed, muttered a bit at that. One spoke up, silencing the others. “Then isn’t getting a name kinda bad too?”
Ha! Belle could barely contain her laughter. A precious contradiction that made Beatrice such a treat to talk with. The Aide cleared her throat, trying to lay out her reasoning for why both could coexist, but the eyes of most warriors simply began to glaze over. Belle knew that would happen; she had enjoyed a similar conversation with Beatrice only recently over a cup of extra-sweet honey. Matching wits with the Aide wasn’t something most could do on her worst of days, and it was a peculiar weakness of hers that she struggled to talk down. Either you kept up with her or got left in the dust.
Yet another reason to admire Mother.
“Enough of this,” Bess said, providing an all-too-accurate rendition of Beatrice’s voice. “Let’s get back to eating! I’ve got tons of work to do tomorrow, so I wanna be as energized as possible.”
Belphegora perked up and leaned forward, her seat creaking. “What sort of of work? Are we going to be seeing a new boom in bees? I believe some queens will be born soon, but how will we manage a population boom with our resources?” She turned to Belle, shooting her a questioning gaze. Damn Belphegora. What a fun rival!
“Food will definitely become an issue without detailed planning.” Belle took a final sip of honey. “Of course, something like that isn’t a concern, thanks to miss Beatrice. I do think we could slow construction a bit, Bess. All that wax…. Not to mention your gluttonous appetite before a hard day’s work.”
Bess buzzed with anger, and the excitement rose amongst the crowd. How foolish. Have they all become battle junkies? I’m not going to fight Bess over a simple conversation. Hell, I’d never win against her anyway.
“You wanna go, punk? Maybe you’ve had it a bit too good, hanging out with the eggs all day. I work pretty damn hard compared to you, I think.”
“Rich,” Belle spat. “You have skill, but perhaps you should try finishing a project for once. I see the dome is nowhere near completion. Oh wait. You created an overly ambitious project with no regard for your capabilities or the current capabilities of the hive. Tell me, exactly how much wax will you need to finish the stupidly massive dome nearly as large as Yiwi?”
Bess was hovering in front of Belle now, staring her in the face. Despite her barbs, Belle sat in a relaxed posture. The warriors were buzzing frantically now; they wanted action. Perhaps Beatrice’s little bout had shown them the wonders of entertaining combat? No matter. Belle was simply having a bit of fun. Bess would never-
“I challenge you to a Battle of Minds!”
Belle gaped at Bess, who was looking a bit too triumphant. The others of the Hive Five stared too. Beatrice simply shook her head.
But the warriors? They were eating it up.
“Yeah, come on chump! Let’s go, a match with our stingers. Right here, right now.”
Belle finally found her voice. “Now hold on Bess-“
“Oh stop.” Bedivere’s baritone shook their Minds, rattling them. Had he used his Mind there?
“Bess, there will be no Battle of Minds. We are not the fernen with their adherence to some ancient tradition which is specifically their own. Conflicts within the hive can never be decided with violence; it is simply pointless. Belle, enough of the teasing. You both present good and bad points, and if you cannot agree, then it will be decided by another.”
How ironic that the most powerful warrior would decry violence. Bess simply laughed and pat Belle on the shoulder, apologizing. But of the two, Belle was actually the one who came away more frustrated.
Why does he get to dictate all this? Because he’s good at fighting? What has he even fought after the vultures? Whatever. But what he said was interesting. Deciding conflict, hm?
The dinner went back to normal, the revelry dying as the moon rose. Beatrice returned to her seat, pushing away any warriors that tried to get her to eat more honey. Bess sat around laughing alongside Beck, and the warriors were simply their usual rowdy selves. Belle lounged, eying her empty bowl.
“I’m sure Mother would have loved to be here during all this excitement. At least she’ll be entertained when she wakes up,” she whispered to herself. She didn’t miss Beatrice quietly slip out of the ball, following her with her Mind. She watched as Beatrice made a beeline for Mother’s room, setting down to rest just outside the entrance.
“What are you up to, sneaky Aide?”
“I just wanted to rest near Mother. Is there something wrong with that?”
“Of course not. But it’s not like you to get tired.”
“Tired? Ha!” Beatrice shared some images through the Link, and Belle found her senses overwhelmed. “I simply wanted to look at my work in peace, without the interruptions of the silly warriors. So many things to monitor, so many things to manage. It’s quite fun. In particular, I wanted to keep an eye on the fernen. After all, the humans have nearly arrived at their home outside the forest. Hopefully Mother will awaken in time to see it; I’m sure she’d enjoy the new experience.”
“That she would.”
As soon as I said the words ‘fucking heal’, an intense feeling of sickness overwhelmed me and I doubled over, only staying in the air thanks to my Lock. It felt like my head was literally being split open and my brain manhandled, and I gagged at the sensation. Even Queen groaned in agony as my vision swam from the strain.
[Congratulations! You have been granted an Ability!]
[I Command Bee, HEAL
Level 1
Acquired by: Through experimentation and desire, you figured out how to perform simple healing for the sake of your hive. A breakthrough was achieved when you solidified your Mind, envisioned the result, and acted within your unique nature to give a simple command.
At your behest, any creature of your choosing connected to your Kin Link will have some of your Mind condensed within their body, speeding and enhancing possible healing processes. Only Linked creatures can be made to heal. Only works on fresh wounds.
Level up: Heal a creature from a grievous wound.
]
I tried my best to make sense of the words in my face. So I did it? It was that easy? I took a bleary look at my newly broken claw, finding it mostly mended. It wasn’t healed to full, but even as I watched, globules of Mind healing juice oozed out of the arm into place and solidified. The big liquid ball had suddenly disappeared, but apparently it was somehow within my body now. The process would be long and annoying, but it worked!
But what the hell was with these conditions? Only being able to heal those in my hive? Seems sort of arbitrary.
Queen’s pained groans abated somewhat, conveniently just in time to make my ramblings coherent. “Sure, but who cares? Healing our children - and I suppose anybody within the hive - is what we truly want. If those limitations are the burden the gods wish to stick us with, it is fine, in my opinion.”
Not wrong. But what caused this Ability to have such a constraint? Is it super powerful or something? It doesn’t seem like it now, but I suppose it’s not impossible. Since it has the capability to level up, that must mean it’s weak now and can become much stronger.
“I don’t think an Ability’s power necessarily causes limitations - look at Combined Minds. That Ability is absurd and has no drawbacks. No, I think there is either more we still do not understand about Abilities, or the gods have a firmer hand in play than we expected.”
We both took a moment to chew on that. I’d much rather be ignorant about Abilities than know the gods are playing with us like fucking tabletop game characters. I had already assumed they were integral in the process of creating Abilities, but for some reason it didn’t fully register that they might be able to change the Ability extensively. Well if they were going to play like that, I’d play right back. Plans already began to form, stuff like Linking a squirrel or whatever to serve as fodder for leveling the Ability to bypass any reservations about hurting my bees.
But who cares! I made an Ability with much less difficulty than expected. Sure, I had to break my own arm to get a fresh wound or whatever, but such things were a small price to pay. I gleefully held up my arm, which was just about finished stitching itself back into place. If this thing worked the way I thought it did, then I had essentially just gotten every Linked creature some slow auto-regen. How hilarious was that?
As the final tiny pieces of chitin clicked into place, I waved my claw triumphantly. Hm? That headache seems a bit familiar. Don’t tell me it’s Mind Colla-
______
Belle poked the small bowl of honey sitting in front of her, sighing aimlessly. All the golden ichor did was remind her of her twin, and boy, did she miss Bella dearly. She hadn’t seen her dear sister in such a long time.
“You know we can talk whenever we want, right? I can’t be at family dinner tonight, but it’s not like we’re actually apart.”
Another sighed escaped Belle’s thoughts. It was almost like she could hear the arrogant, prickly, self-centered bee even now. Grabbing the waxy bowl with a thought, she inspected the fairly new dining room. A massive open-air globe was attached precariously to the central hive opposite the nursery, swaying in the wind. The wax structure was thin and incomplete, merely a scaffolding for a larger project to come, and Bella had to admit that it was impressive. Bess really did have a talent for this sort of thing, not to mention the sudden competitive spark she had been nurturing since the hive had witnessed human civilization. The ball easily held the current numbers of the hive, with plenty of room for more, and allowed each bee to set their food down while simultaneously keeping them all in view of each other.
Well, Bedivere and Behemoth had to stay outside. But they had their own little perches all to themselves attached to the outside.
With just a hint of curiosity, she happened to notice an odd quirk of the structure. Or rather, how the bees were occupying it. Belle rested upon her own personal seat, suspended near the center of the globe. Closest to her were her subordinates, Beverly, Bela, Beth and Beau, sitting just behind her. To her left was an empty seat for Belle, and her right was occupied by Beck. The rest of her generation were sitting at similar distances, only missing Ben, who was out at the moment. And Bess, but she was occupied. Further from the center were other bees, such as the subordinates of the other leads, and further were the warriors. Buzzing along the walls of the structure were the senseless Drones and Linkers, only parting so Bedivere and Behemoth could peek inside. Those mindless bees were still part of the family, so, of course, they were present. Although, all they did was efficiently eat their food and immediately rest to conserve energy.
She looked at the warriors, who, instead of sitting calmly in place, were clumped at a certain spot beneath her. Most of them were Unnamed, but such a thing was not affecting their revelry. Honestly. They did know the food stores weren’t infinite, right?
Belle took another sip. Though some of her family could be bothersome, and though she might rather be working, she quite enjoyed the family dinners. They all did. The commands of Mother overcame even their ceaseless appetite for labor.
But this particular dinner was strange. A quick glance at the place of honor at the center of the ball, the only complete portion of the structure, was all one needed to see the reason why. No Mother. For the first time since the inception of the fabled ‘Family Dinner’, Mother was not present. They had always waited for her, or simply canceled when she was busy, but never had they had one without her. Beatrice was also not present in her seat beside Mother’s, but the explanation for that wasn’t hard to figure out.
“Eat, Beatrice, eat! Glory for the hive!” Bess shouted, shaking the Aide in question like a squirrel. Beatrice rubbed her arms, but complied, downing an entire cup of honey in a single swig. The bees cheered, particularly the warriors gathered around them. Along with Beck and Bess, the warriors had insisted they hold a celebratory family dinner to celebrate Beatrice’s victory against the fernen leader, and Beatrice eventually relented. Belle didn’t quite understand; what was the point of a family dinner without Mother? But they had insisted. And when Beck so passionately hummed about how Mother would have wanted them to celebrate their individual accomplishments, who could refuse?
And so, the entire hive buzzed beneath the waning sun, eating their fill. Bess and the warriors egged Beatrice on once more, and Belle smirked at seeing the Aide so flustered, unlike her regular self. Once, the warriors would likely never have dreamed of doing these things, but they had begun to see Beatrice in a new light since her fight. One of true respect for a fellow warrior. Honestly, Belle did too. Not the warrior thing, but she saw Beatrice differently.
They were all afraid of her, of course. Not because she had a powerful Mind. Not because her Ability, Aide Authority, could gain control of anyone in the hive at a thought. Not because of the influence she had on Mother.
Nah, it was just because she’s Beatrice. Enough said.
Even so, all the bees were enjoying themselves. Beck was humming pleasant tunes, Beryl was letting herself be rowdy with the other warriors, and Belial was whispering to Beau nearby. Ah, right. Those two and their obsession with the electhingery. Belle had a passing interest, of course. It was for that reason Beau was technically under her command, after all. But it was nowhere near as deep as the curiosity held by the Valkybee and the inventor.
Beth mechanically raised the bowl to her mouth and swallowed while the other two barely touched their meal. Whether they were nervous because of the grand warrior Belial’s presence or they were simply exhausted, Belle didn’t care to understand. Well, most of the bees in their generation were a bit timid anyway.
“Beatrice, can you tell Ma to give me a name?!”
“Yeah, me two!”
“Me bee!”
Some of the warriors called out to Beatrice, taking the opportunity to inquire about something they would never dare ask otherwise. Perhaps they had gotten a bit too caught up in their revelry. Belle could sympathize, though. A name was power, both in Mind and mind. Perhaps because of the boost it gave to a bee’s mental fortitude, being given a name could even affect their actual power. She knew she would be desperately trying to prove herself if she hadn’t been given a name early on. Had she earned it? No, perhaps not. But all bees had come to accept being Named was special, symbolically and otherwise. Belle’s generation was special in some way, and so they were all immediately named. Same with Beau’s generation of Workers.
But being Unnamed wasn’t bad at all. There was a reason they had taken that name rather than the Nameless or some other dour moniker. There was always a chance. It wasn’t that they would never be named, they simply weren’t named yet.
Such a social hierarchy felt… strange to Belle. It felt right, and yet it felt strange. Where did she fall into it? To say there wasn’t any hierarchy was foolishness itself, of course. Beatrice fell directly beneath Mother, second only to her. Bedivere probably landed somewhere above Belle. Maybe the Valkybees, but they were in a bit of a limbo. Beck was also quite powerful in that regard. But otherwise?
She liked to think she was right there.
Of course, such a thing wasn’t necessarily true just yet. Her job was extremely important, sure, but she didn’t command anywhere near the number of forces of, say, Bess. At least, not in pure numbers. Belle was unique in that she had the most Named Workers. And she knew her subordinates would soon grow to epic proportions. She controlled the food alongside her twin. She brought the new generations into being. And she suspected that any miscellaneous prospects would also fall under her jurisdiction.
It wasn’t something she thought about often, but she had more intimate knowledge of the plans to come for the hive’s forces. Soon, new queens would be born. Would they surpass the Hive Five, Belle’s generation, in social status? Would she be tossed by the wayside, forgotten in favor of some new queen’s authority? No. She wouldn’t allow it. There was no way she would let herself be separated from Mother like that.
“Enough of this.” Beatrice paused to take another sip. She was being carefree, wasn’t she? “You must earn it. A name is something given by Mother. You will remain Unnamed until the time comes that you accomplish something for the hive.”
“Does that mean you can get another name? Since you beat that moss dude?” Bend laughed, flexing as usual. Though he had fewer arms to flex nowadays. Beatrice suddenly looked very uncomfortable.
“Another name? Preposterous. Besides, I’d not like to be overly prideful about my actions. Such a thing is unbecoming of a member of the hive.”
Some of the bees, especially the Unnamed, muttered a bit at that. One spoke up, silencing the others. “Then isn’t getting a name kinda bad too?”
Ha! Belle could barely contain her laughter. A precious contradiction that made Beatrice such a treat to talk with. The Aide cleared her throat, trying to lay out her reasoning for why both could coexist, but the eyes of most warriors simply began to glaze over. Belle knew that would happen; she had enjoyed a similar conversation with Beatrice only recently over a cup of extra-sweet honey. Matching wits with the Aide wasn’t something most could do on her worst of days, and it was a peculiar weakness of hers that she struggled to talk down. Either you kept up with her or got left in the dust.
Yet another reason to admire Mother.
“Enough of this,” Bess said, providing an all-too-accurate rendition of Beatrice’s voice. “Let’s get back to eating! I’ve got tons of work to do tomorrow, so I wanna be as energized as possible.”
Belphegora perked up and leaned forward, her seat creaking. “What sort of of work? Are we going to be seeing a new boom in bees? I believe some queens will be born soon, but how will we manage a population boom with our resources?” She turned to Belle, shooting her a questioning gaze. Damn Belphegora. What a fun rival!
“Food will definitely become an issue without detailed planning.” Belle took a final sip of honey. “Of course, something like that isn’t a concern, thanks to miss Beatrice. I do think we could slow construction a bit, Bess. All that wax…. Not to mention your gluttonous appetite before a hard day’s work.”
Bess buzzed with anger, and the excitement rose amongst the crowd. How foolish. Have they all become battle junkies? I’m not going to fight Bess over a simple conversation. Hell, I’d never win against her anyway.
“You wanna go, punk? Maybe you’ve had it a bit too good, hanging out with the eggs all day. I work pretty damn hard compared to you, I think.”
“Rich,” Belle spat. “You have skill, but perhaps you should try finishing a project for once. I see the dome is nowhere near completion. Oh wait. You created an overly ambitious project with no regard for your capabilities or the current capabilities of the hive. Tell me, exactly how much wax will you need to finish the stupidly massive dome nearly as large as Yiwi?”
Bess was hovering in front of Belle now, staring her in the face. Despite her barbs, Belle sat in a relaxed posture. The warriors were buzzing frantically now; they wanted action. Perhaps Beatrice’s little bout had shown them the wonders of entertaining combat? No matter. Belle was simply having a bit of fun. Bess would never-
“I challenge you to a Battle of Minds!”
Belle gaped at Bess, who was looking a bit too triumphant. The others of the Hive Five stared too. Beatrice simply shook her head.
But the warriors? They were eating it up.
“Yeah, come on chump! Let’s go, a match with our stingers. Right here, right now.”
Belle finally found her voice. “Now hold on Bess-“
“Oh stop.” Bedivere’s baritone shook their Minds, rattling them. Had he used his Mind there?
“Bess, there will be no Battle of Minds. We are not the fernen with their adherence to some ancient tradition which is specifically their own. Conflicts within the hive can never be decided with violence; it is simply pointless. Belle, enough of the teasing. You both present good and bad points, and if you cannot agree, then it will be decided by another.”
How ironic that the most powerful warrior would decry violence. Bess simply laughed and pat Belle on the shoulder, apologizing. But of the two, Belle was actually the one who came away more frustrated.
Why does he get to dictate all this? Because he’s good at fighting? What has he even fought after the vultures? Whatever. But what he said was interesting. Deciding conflict, hm?
The dinner went back to normal, the revelry dying as the moon rose. Beatrice returned to her seat, pushing away any warriors that tried to get her to eat more honey. Bess sat around laughing alongside Beck, and the warriors were simply their usual rowdy selves. Belle lounged, eying her empty bowl.
“I’m sure Mother would have loved to be here during all this excitement. At least she’ll be entertained when she wakes up,” she whispered to herself. She didn’t miss Beatrice quietly slip out of the ball, following her with her Mind. She watched as Beatrice made a beeline for Mother’s room, setting down to rest just outside the entrance.
“What are you up to, sneaky Aide?”
“I just wanted to rest near Mother. Is there something wrong with that?”
“Of course not. But it’s not like you to get tired.”
“Tired? Ha!” Beatrice shared some images through the Link, and Belle found her senses overwhelmed. “I simply wanted to look at my work in peace, without the interruptions of the silly warriors. So many things to monitor, so many things to manage. It’s quite fun. In particular, I wanted to keep an eye on the fernen. After all, the humans have nearly arrived at their home outside the forest. Hopefully Mother will awaken in time to see it; I’m sure she’d enjoy the new experience.”
“That she would.”
