Unnamed - Apparatus Of Change

Available Power : 11

Authority : 6

Bind Insect (1, Command)

Fortify Space (2, Domain)

Distant Vision (2, Perceive)

Collect Plant (3, Shape)

See Commands (5, Perceive)

Bind Crop (4, Command)

Nobility : 6

Congeal Glimmer (1, Command)

See Domain (1, Perceive)

Claim Construction (2, Domain)

Stone Pylon (2, Shape)

Drain Health (4, War)

-

Empathy : 4

Shift Water (1, Shape)

Imbue Mending (3, Civic)

Bind Willing Avian (1, Command)

Move Water (4, Shape)

Spirituality : 5

Shift Wood (1, Shape)

Small Promise (2, Domain)

Make Low Blade (2, War)

Congeal Mantra (1, Command)

Form Party (3, Civic)

Ingenuity : 5

Know Material (1, Perceive)

Form Wall (2, Shape)

Link Spellwork (3, Arcane)

Sever Command (4, War)

Collect Material (1, Shape)

Tenacity : 5

Nudge Material (1, Shape)

Bolster Nourishment (2, Civic)

Drain Endurance (2, War)

Pressure Trigger (2, War)

-

Animosity : -

Amalgamate Human (3, Command)

Trepidation : -

Follow Prey (2, Perceive)

I return my focus to the fort as the flight of honeybees arrive home, a singularly large member of their number at their fore when they land. Malpa and Jahn take notice first, the two men looking up from arguing over how much help they should ask for from me on an irrigation plan. And from there, and the rather impressive agility of Sharpen as Jahn sends the gob bolting back to the main building of the fort, news of my presence spreads rapidly.

I think Muelly might have known as soon as I started listening to the beetles again. She’s sitting with Oob on a bench next to my body when I look for her. Leaning against the wall, rhythmically tapping her horns against the stonework in a way that I know is unhealthy, like she’s waiting with thinning patience. She stops and glances at me as soon as I focus there.

“Welcome back.” She says quietly, before the sound of feet slapping against the fort’s stone halls interrupt her.

Mela bursts into the dining hall, panting and out of breath, half naked and looking like she’s drenched in sweat. I’ve watched her approach through the pair of bees following her, and I know she’s been sprinting laps around the fort’s interior but I don’t know why. Leaning on a table and gasping in breaths, she looks up at Muelly. “She’s back?”

The demoness nods rapidly, staring up at the ceiling as Mela starts laughing. A few seconds later, the opposite door opens, and Kalip limps in. His body is dramatically weakened by his loss of his magetouched status, but he’s not in nearly as bad shape as Yuea was when it happened to her. Catching the problem early, and also him not fighting off multiple infections, has left him as an adult human in excellent physical condition, who paradoxically can’t exert himself for too long.

As soon as Mela sees him, she gulps, squares herself up, and sprints out the door she came in, one bee trailing behind while the other heads over to land on Kalip’s head.

“Welcome back.” He says. He sounds very, very tired. “He’s in there, right?” He asks Muelly. She nods, a smile and a grimace fighting on her muzzle. “Good. We’ll talk tonight. I’ll find Yuea when the trainee is done with her conditioning.”

Kalip whistles, and a pair of children dart out to flank him as he almost casually strolls out after Mela. I recognize Zhoy, the little demon girl watching Kalip with the kind of look that makes me think someone told her that she was supposed to take care of him. The other one is one of the human girls. Allip, I think. I have not done the best job learning the children’s names. I will ask Seraha when she arrives.

The older pink furred demoness does so not much later, one of the gobs following her. Vestment is carrying a basket of vegetables in both their hands, eagerly chattering about their day spent exploring the fort to a smiling Seraha. She politely sets a hand on the gob’s head though, as they arrive in the hall, and gives a half-nod half-bow in my direction, her eyes closed. Vestment races into the kitchens to drop off the basket, before coming back out to start asking questions. Am I back, how far did I go, what happened, is everything okay, all the questions that everyone else has been waiting for me to patiently compose myself for, but all at once and in the kind of excited half-childlike way that newformed gobs tend to have.

Muelly comes to my rescue, patiently hoisting Vestment over her shoulder and carrying the still-talking gob away while both of them try not to laugh.

Dipan wanders in, sees what’s going on, and grins. Then vanishes with inhuman quickness as Seraha pokes her head back through the kitchen door looking for someone to fetch her water. The other beetles begin to congregate in the hall, coming in from around the fort where they’ve been lurking and listening.

The newly bonded and grown bees are greeted out in the courtyard by those who stayed behind, shyly accepting affection and insectile greetings, as well as being introduced to the other children. Ahalan, the small demon boy who doesn’t even have his horns yet, delightfully collects an armful of excited bees to run back to the fort.

The others arrive from the expanding farm field. Jahn doing something odd that looks like he’s avoiding entering the room when Seraha is there, Malpa with an arm around Sharpen’s shoulders as he and the gob whisper conspiratorially to each other.

Mela arrives looking like she was dunked in a pond before getting dressed, Kalip and his helpers strolling in afterward with Yuea walking with him. The altered woman gives a fierce smile when she glances my way; she already knew I was back, but I can tell she’s feeling better. Amalgamate Human has stopped draining so rapidly to heal her, and she is walking under her own power. A few days was all it took to regrow an arm, which I suppose would leave anyone in good cheer.

Everyone is in good spirits, it seems. Smiling, laughing with each other. Even Muelly, who is quietly sitting beside me, still gives a soft sigh and a kiss to Malpa as he stops by.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I realize, suddenly, that everyone is in a good mood because I am back. Because they think I am victorious, perhaps.

It has only been a few days since the death of one of their children. Such a short time, I still do not know how to grapple with it. And yet, they have moved on. I watch through a pair of honeybees in the kitchen as Seraha and her helpers start making an early noon meal for everyone, and feel a spike of something that tastes like anger but feels like pain. How? How can they just go back to how things were? How can they pretend that everything is okay?

I am fortunate, really, to have such clever bound insects. Before I say anything, before I lash out, the bees and beetles that remained behind begin to share with me. Small moments, snippets of painful conversations, scenes of the children crying silently into the bristling fur of the bees that stayed with them as companions, the quiet parts of the day when people would stop what they were doing and stare at nothing before taking deep breaths and pushing on.

Soon enough, I see myself as a fool. Of course they didn’t move on. How could anyone move on from something like that? But this is not the first time this has happened. Only the first time it has happened to me. My selfishness has blinded me; the humans and demons of this place have buried dozens of children. Not a single person here has not lost someone.

Our grief should never be a matter of competition. And there is nothing shameful about seeking a pleasant midday meal with family.

I focus on the present as Yuea sits with a thump on the bench next to Muelly, her new body causing the sturdy wood to creak. “Hey sparkly.” She says, voice coming easier now than when I left her, her mastery of her new form increasing. “Had a good war?”

The others still, and glance toward us expectantly. Waiting to hear how things are going. The thin layer of comfort stretched to almost snapping as they worry that I will tell them what is ultimately the truth. That things are not going well.

There’s something of a story to it. I write into the table, and Muelly huffs as she reads my words aloud. I think I will wait for the others. There’s a clamor at that, of frustrated laughs and protesting words. Some of my bees launch off the tables and to the walls, adding to the burst of chaos. But I hold to it, letting some of the comfort of feeling like I am home and among friends get to me, even if my news isn’t all good.

Soon enough, Seraha and her helpers come out of the kitchen with a light lunch for the survivors. Cool discs of melon and some sort of soft baked tart full of nuts and berries. It’s simple, and welcome, and Jahn suggests they eat while staring at me until I give in and tell them what is happening, which I feel is a deep betrayal by the demon who I thought was my friend.

I start to write anyway.

The first wave of silkspinners, we defeated without problems. I began destroying the invader’s domain, and stole the pylons that were being used. Yuea shakes her head and mutters something about head on assaults. The second wave was different. It brought birds, which were changed to spread fire when they died. I realized quickly that if we both kept reinforcing the same spot, it would overwhelm me soon. So I sent the bees farther out.

“How far?” Dipan asks as my message is read. “Out of the Green?”

No, only back toward where we first met. I planned to eliminate the dirt creature apparatus, and then attack the silkspinners from a different angle. That, too, failed. It has learned to hide things, and has some form of fire magic I could not see.

“This doesn’t sound good. At all.” Kalip’s voice is quieter than it used to be, but no less blunt. “What else?”

After that, I brought the bees back toward home. But we stopped near the river crossing point.

“With the tarfucker eels?” Dipan asks, rubbing his leg. Seraha swats him fiercely with the flat of a spread knife, and he flinches as she waves a hand at the children who are giggling at Dipan’s words. “Ow! Oh, uh! I mean the… the bad… fish.” He flushes and looks away, muttering something profane under his breath.

Yes. I write, wishing I had my own way to express the covered laughter of many of the adults in the hall. The eels. The apparatus for them, though…

“Did you lose a third fight?” Yuea’s voice sounds amused, but it looks like it’s upsetting for a lot of the survivors.

I did not lose a third fight, thank you Yuea. I write to the side as I address the tangent. The eel apparatus is, I believe, a potential ally. It had the chance to strike out, and it didn’t take it. Instead, it tried to talk, and it asked for help.

There’s a pause. A lot of them are staring at me with confusion, or worse, frowns. One of the demon boys takes the chance to slip up from under a table and steal one of Malpa’s tarts. Seraha points a utensil my way, her voice the first to start speaking up. “You mean you want to-“

“Yes!” Fisher exclaims, the gob bursting upward, scrambling to stand on their bench and slam their clawed hands into the table. Focus shifts from me, to them, and they wither as they realize everyone is looking at them, rapidly sitting back down and burying their head in their claws.

“-to bring something that could kill all of us, again, back here, to-“ Seraha picks up where she left off.

Yuea interrupts her next. “Okay, to be fair, I could kill all of you.” She says. Really not helping, Yuea. How did you ever end up as a commander, I wonder. “I mean, I guess sparkles could too. And Kalip probably. And, like, anyone who goes down to the armory and knows how to load an overgun. And-“

Please make her stop talking. I beg Muelly. The demoness just gives me a sad, tight lipped look, and shakes her head. Well, ignoring Yuea’s… well thought out plans for murdering us all… yes. I think that we should help. I promised to help. We don’t need to bring them back here, but I would like to set out immediately, to bring them back this way and away from the other, more violent members of our species. Maybe we can leave them in the lake, if that is what they want. But I made a promise.

“You really need to stop promising things.” Yuea says.

“Their promises are why we’re alive.” Kalip says. And then clears his throat. “Commander.” He adds.

“I’m in.” Dipan speaks up suddenly, causing Fisher’s head to snap in his direction, and a few slower looks from everyone else.

Malpa reaches over to pat him on the shoulder. “You got half your leg…”

“Eh, what’s a little blood.” Dipan dismisses the concern, brushing Malpa’s hand off. “Look. Come on. Think about it. When has anything Shiny promised been a bad idea?” He shrugs easily, though I can see the tight lines around his eyes through my bees. “We go on a little hike, pick up a new friend, make it home, and have two tiny gods fighting to keep us safe. What’s wrong with that?” He pauses. “We’re gonna need buckets.” He says, standing up and reaching for the remaining tart on his plate that has already vanished into the paw of the demon boy scurrying away under the long table.

While Dipan gives a forlorn look at his missing lunch, Mela asks a question that I’m thinking myself. “Why buckets?” She says. “Also I’m in agreement as well, in case anyone was curious.”

“No one was.” Yuea snorts.

“Buckets,” Dipan explains, ignoring Yuea with a confidence that has the woman rolling her glittering golden crow’s eyes at him, “because if this thing is anything like our pal here, it’s gonna be attached to its fucking eels, and probably have a whole tome of eel lore for us to memorize.”

I had not thought of that. It’s understandable. I write. I would assume the natural science of eels, and other fish, would be similarly diverse to the knowledge there is to be gained from honeybees. They have been my world since I woke up, and still I have more to learn. Did you know-

“Alright!” Yuea preempts me from explaining honeycomb design. Not that I stop writing, or drawing diagrams on a nearby table out of her sight. “Fisher, Dipan, Mela. You’re with me, we’ll take some of the rested bees, and head out now. Pack for two days, just in case. Jahn, sit down, you’re staying here, you still have cracked ribs you asshole.” I find myself curious how that happened, he should be healed from the wolv fight. “Shiny, I’ve got jobs for you, too.”

Of course. I write. I am… I am better. I am ready to help. And while I did not win, I am stronger for the adventure.

“Sure. Well, take it up with the others. You’re talking to Seraha about what you did to her classroom, Jahn about making magic yams or some shit, and Kalip about this.” She waves a hand over her body, her lightly verdigris tinted skin, her feathered plume in place of hair. “Also, get to work on more pylons. We’ve got two days worth of collected rocks piled up behind the fort. Make us a defensive line for when we need it. Because we still need to kill that fucker that’s coming for us don’t we?”

“Yuea, mind your language!” Seraha’s disproving voice from the other side of the hall makes Yuea jump.

The hardened soldier clears her throat rapidly. “I have to go pack.” She excuses herself, slipping toward the back door away from the demoness. “Oh! And make me a tarred spear or something!” She yells back over her shoulder, eliciting a round of giggles from the kids who have absolutely been listening in this whole time.

People spring into action, or just move to clear the empty plates and help Seraha with cleanup. The bustle of the fort feels alive, despite the fact that there are only eighteen people here that aren’t vested insects. Everyone moving, talking, working together, acting like a family, it makes me… jealous, perhaps? Should I be jealous? I should feel like an outsider here, now. As if there is something I cannot truly feel happening all around me. But I don’t. Instead, I just feel a sense of pride, that I made this happen, enabled the good in all of them to shine through.

Perhaps it is some buried instinct in my species. A desire to see the outcome of the change we make. I don’t know, and perhaps never will.

I am left, soon enough, with just Muelly and Oob sitting with me. Muelly returns to tapping her horns on the stone, tilting her head back against the wall she is leaning against in rhythmic motions. “Everyone was worried, you know.” I almost understand, but still have Oob tilt his body at her to show mild confusion. She perhaps misunderstands. “Not that you would leave us and we’d all die, or anything. We could maybe be okay here without you. But… you know. Just worried about you. That you’d be okay.”

I don’t know if I am okay. I write the words before I second guess and stop myself.

Muelly looks at the table, a sad frown on her lips. And I worry that I have overstepped. Said something I should not have. There is a what feels like a candle worth of building concern before she leans back again, the tapping of her horns continuing. “I don’t think I am either.” She whispers, her voice picked up clearly by Oob. “Maybe we can be not okay together.”

She closes her eyes, and we sit together for a little, and practice at not being okay.

But not too long. I have people to talk to, and an expedition to guide to a river.