POG 151.1 - Will of the Bee-vine

POG 151.1 - Will of the Bee-vine

The Fourth of the Seventh zipped about, but one of her scout communers stopped her.

“Queen, over here!”

She spun about and sped at the communer’s dance until she saw it. Several of her scouts hovered over a patch of dirt just before the Tower. Grooves had been carved in a large, circular pattern. The pattern occasionally pulsed with a soft green light that was easy to miss amongst the grass and flowers.

The Fourth of the Seventh danced happily about.

“Great work, everyone! Will tell King we found it!”

But just as she was about to relay it to the King, the pattern shifted. The soft green light turned into a bright red. The Fourth of the Seventh reacted immediately.

“Get back!”

At her command her workers immediately flew away from the pattern. The Fourth of the Seventh did likewise, knowing that the workers wouldn’t evacuate before her. A moment later, the pattern pulses with a light too bright to see.

And then it fell silent and glowed no more.

Belissar frowned as the Fourth of the Seventh reported. They had found the magic formation, but then it did...something. Turned red, flashed, and then went dead. Now it was little more than grooves in the dirt, with not even a hint of mana circulating within it.

It had probably completed whatever it had been intended to do.

Belissar sighed. He had a bad feeling about it but what could he do? Neither he nor the bees had any idea what any of the grooves meant, if anything. He’d have the karnuq look at it too but even if they knew what the formation was for, it seemed too late to do anything about it. He guessed he should assume that the Tower Lords knew where he was.

He could only hope that the journey would be as long and difficult for them as the young Tower Guard said. At the very least, no bees had been hurt by the formation, so at least it hadn’t been dangerous. He wasn’t sure what he’d have done if more bees had been hurt by this whole affair.

Unfortunately, the humans that carried the queen were hive-burners and enemies of her dungeon master and conduit alike. And establishing her first ever oracle in order to speak directly to the queen had burned through most of her accumulated authority, not to mention answering the humans’ divination. The offering they had made didn’t even come close to paying back the authority spent, but she had no other choice.

It was unfortunate as well that the human empire would become aware of her dungeon’s location if this plan succeeded, given that she had little influence among them, but they were far enough away that she felt it was worth the risk. With how difficult the journey had been for the group that carried her oracle, she knew that an army had no hope of making the trip anytime soon. Time during which her favored dungeon would only continue to grow, which she would encourage with all the authority she could muster.

Of course, that meant she did not have the authority available to answer the humans when they had actually arrived at her dungeon. And even if she did, she cared little for their fate. They had already burned hives and assaulted her favored dungeon master. They may have carried her new oracle through a long and dangerous path, but if they chose to repeat their crimes against bees, in the dungeon that bore her symbol no less, then they deserved whatever fate befell them. She left it to her favored dungeon master to decide, the strength of his hive more than sufficient to hand them either grace or justice as they deserved.

Still, she could not help but feel some responsibility for the casualties that resulted. Part of her was amused that her favored dungeon master got so worked up over a handful of workers or soldiers, those who purpose it was to spend their lives for the hive. But in the end, her dungeon master’s grief on behalf of bees struck right at her very core. How could she not resonate with one who cared so deeply for even the least of the bees? How could she not be moved by one who spared no effort to preserve every bee that he could, and who did all that he could to honor those he could not save?

“Belissar best dungeon master!”

She had to calm herself from her spontaneous dance before resuming her train of thought.

She would, therefore, not spare any effort to ensure that those bees he had not saved were taken care of as he would have wished.

But in the end, the prize had been worth the cost. She now had an oracle to call her own, safely housed within her favored dungeon master’s halls. She could now make known her will directly to the world at a fraction of the cost in authority. Her ability to assign missions and offer blessings would expand dramatically as well and extend beyond her dungeon shrines. And most of all, now that she could interact more directly with the people of the world, her name would grow among them. One day she, too, would be able to act beyond the reach of her few direct hooks.

And so, those who had made it happen would be rewarded. The one human who had acted kindly towards bees on their trip would not be forgotten; his key role in carrying her oracle safely would be acknowledged. And then, of course, her favored dungeon master. While she could not reward him directly for the defeat of his fellow humans, she could at least reward him for taking in the oracle. In fact, that oracle only grew because of the worker that became the Queen of All Bees’ conduit, and both of those only survived because Belissar took care of both while they were still mundane bees. She intended to see him grow, both to ensure his, the conduit’s, and the oracle’s future safety. And simply because he deserved it.

Now, all she needed was to gather some more authority so she could make it...

Just then, something pulled her attention. She watched as the offerings and gratitude came pouring in, her favored dungeon master once again filling her coffers...and tugging on her heart.

This time, she didn’t resist the dance.

“Belissar best dungeon master! Belissar best follower!”