Never in all of my years alive have I viewed a sunrise with more disdain.
Granted, I often was blacked out well before that and barely thought of it at all. But, watching the glowing, radiant orb rise from behind the mountain silhouette and illuminate the morning sky filled me with a rolling anger. Maybe it was because I knew what was to come, maybe it was something else, but it took every ounce of willpower I had left to keep it at bay as I stared at the dawn of a new day. he warmth of the morning crept through the crate and slowly restored my [Hungry] debuff until it went away a few minutes later, and it was the only welcoming change that had come.
No sign of Scrappy. Even though I had no notification regarding his death I was almost sure that he didn’t find the others, or had been detained in some way.
Bees amassed in full force around our cage, giving a wide berth to the entrance even as they stood with mocking gazes and snickering laughter. I hated them for that, and that’s why I will continue to call them bees regardless of how much they want to be wasps or whatever; stupid ass bees. Their wings occasionally buzzed and clicked, a sign of excitement or anticipation apparently, and I watched them flutter and vibrate in waves all around us. Most were the normal yellow jackets, or some variant of them, however there were those that were more unique. Two were similar to the scorpion-crab bee thing Fogwen had killed, and one other looked like the mage bee just with a shade of red chiton like the fire ants from that Scorpion King movie where The Rock smooshes the ants with his head. There were others too, like a bee that had the upper body of a yellow jacket then slowly formed into a legless serpent tail with a stinger at the end, or another was far more humanoid and held a huge mace, along with the usual bee stinger for an ass. Still no sign of whoever the queen was, or Foghurdt, but I was sure they would make their presence known at some point if they were here.
Foghurdt. It still stung, no pun intended. How could he betray everyone? How could he lead an assault on his own home? One that killed his own sister no less. If Fogwarth found out about this he would be devastated…
A bee soldier, one just a slightly paler than the others, wandered out from the pack and approached the cell, standing a foot away from the bars. I watched its demeanor, but it didn’t seem to have hostile intent. It lowered its head solemnly, spear holstered on its back and arms crossed over its… thorax? Chest?
“Hello, grandfather,” it said, a softer voice than many of the other bees had. It gazed at Aspenoc, and the elder Oracle stirred and rose to meet it.
“Aeronik,” Aspenoc said, greeting the new bee with a bow. “It is good to see you, grand son. It has been too long. You have… you have grown since last I had seen you. Are you well?”
Aeronik gently scoffed. “I am well, grandfather. Far better than you, I presume.” He gave what passed for a bee smile in my book. “It has been quite long since you left our people to venture forth with a certain moth.”
“I am right here, Aeronik,” the king answered in a low drawl. “Not quite dead yet, I am afraid.”
Aeronik ignored the comment and continued on with Aspenoc. “Have you spoken with father?”
Aspenoc shook his head. “No, I am afraid not, grand son. Though, I will almost assuredly see him today. Knowing your dear father I can only presume he has a long-winded and tedious speech prepared?” He laughed and nodded, causing Aspenoc to do the same. A moment later the Oracle signaled to me and waved me over. “Barry, come forward, would you? I would very much like you to meet my grand son, Aeronik.”
I huffed and heaved myself up to my stem legs then waddled on over to meet them. I was still beat, my head still throbbed, and I was still angry with the damn sun this morning, but I couldn’t take it out on the old bee. He tried to help me, and honestly he did a good job of it. Wouldn’t have survived this long without him so it was the least I could do.
“Hey,” I answered, making my way close to the bars but keeping my distance as well. “I’m Barry, good to meet ya.”
“Yes, I can see you are indeed a berry. But, what is your name?”
I rolled my eyes. Not this again. We haven’t had to deal with this in how many chapters now? Oh well, can’t beat the classics.
“No, my name is Barry. With an A. I am a berry. It’s just a strange coincidence. Probably,” I answered.
“Oh, that is quite fun! Then you, Barry, may call me Wasp!” Aeronik practically chortled. Yuck. Hate chortling.
“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. So, are you getting us out of this or what? Can’t pull any bee-strings for an old man and a fresh fruit?”
Aeronik’s laughter subsided and he met me with a softer gaze, shaking his head and letting his antennae sway back and forth. “If I had the means to do so then I certainly would have. For my grandfather at the very least, but I would make an attempt for you as well, strange blueberry. As for you…” Aeronik focused on the king. “You will burn for the crimes against Palea you have committed. Ally of my grandfather or not, your actions and selfishness have doomed us all.”
“Geez, relax,” I said, making a warding gesture with my stem hands. “I get it. He killed some Lords or something, stole some stuff, and is probably a massive piece of shit. But, don’t you people have a justice system? Just lock the big bag of eyeballs up and throw away the key! No reason to resort to capital punishment just yet.”
In all honesty it may have been a reason to resort to capital punishment, but I was just trying to weasel my way out of it. By real world standards this thing would be a war criminal at the very least, but possibly even a serial killer. I don’t know, I wasn’t in a position to say. I just really didn’t want to be killed along with my friend’s dad.
Aeronik turned a nose at me and began to walk away, muttering as it did so. “There are worse punishments we all will endure due to his greed.”
As Aeronik moved back through the crowd, the two big scorpion bee people came up and used large, black poles to unlock the sides of the gate, letting the blue bars crash down to the earth with another hollow, musical sound. The two then threw chunks of shiny black stone over the bars, shoveling them on until the blue was nearly completely covered. It was super odd, but I bit my tongue in anticipation of what was to come. The two entered the cell, shoving Aspenoc and I to either side as they used the same black poles to rip the king’s wings free from the wall, leaving ragged, bleeding holes in them with bits of raw flesh still lingering against the back of the crate. The king fell wordlessly to the wooden floor, wings trailing him like used shower curtains as they dragged him out with their rods and eventually pulled him fully from the cell.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
The bees all around began to hurl stones, hunks of ore, and even old food at the king as the two large enforcers pulled him through their ranks. Up ahead, now fully lit by the morning sun on a large hill overlooking the crowd, was a wooden stage. Below it was loads of tinder and wood scraps, along with two burning torches held by two more mage bees in elegant, white robes on either side of the structure.
I felt my stomach tie in knots as they eventually made it to the stage, pulling the large body of the king onto the stage before using additional blue chains to tie him up to two goliath pillars of black stone on either side of the stage, presenting him to all around. The king could only stare at the crowd that followed him, his dozens of eyes peering at them with an animalistic mixture of anguish and sorrow. The crowd was in an uproar as they looked back at him, waiting for what was to come.
“We’re…” I said, staring from the cell up to the king. “We’re too late…”
“Soldiers of Icaraz!” The booming voice called out from atop the stage. “Protectors of our Queen! Defenders of our lands! Let us come together and rejoice, for today we have dealt a devastating blow against an enemy of Palea itself. We have brought all of Mothric to its knees! Laid waste to its farms, towns and city! Battered its forces, and slain an heir to the throne itself!”
The bee crowd exploded in a roar that washes over the horizon and best against the blue sky. The speaker paced before the king, arms extended and gold-trimmed white robe shimmering in the beams of the sun. It was another pale bee, and in one hand it held a staff of shimmering gold, studded in a flurry of gems that shown like a rainbow before it. I didn’t need to be Stabler or Benson to crack that code that this was another of Aspenoc’s offspring: the appalled look on his face would have given it away by itself.
“Behind me, see the spoils of war! See our enemy! God Slayer! Feller of Lords! The unappointed king of stolen lands! See what fate awaits those who should turn on our Gods!”
More cheers, more applause. It sickened me. How could anyone be this way? Let alone a whole empire of people. The frolic and enjoy the defeat and death of another was… it was wrong. Regardless of the crimes, it was wrong.
I had briefly thought of escape, as all of the main forces were gathered around the king and the speaker with only two left behind to guard us. I could have stunned one and immobilized another, giving us a brief window to flee. I contemplated it way longer than I should have, even after figuring out how it would fail. The bees had far greater speed and maneuverability than I did, and they could easily call out and signal the entire contingent of them. It would never work. Even if it did, I’d be leaving Aspenoc behind to die. The old guy would never keep up.
“But, my fellow warriors of Icaraz, this false idol is not the only one we have before us today. No, the Gods have blessed us with a bounty on this day. We have claimed the treacherous Resurfaced berry! And we have captured my traitorous father, former elder Oracle of her majesty!”
I felt every eye of every bee as they turned back at us, mocking with snide laughter and cruel intentions. Laugh it up you fuckers. I clenched my fists and stared daggers back at them with unbound rage dancing a ballet inside of me. I wouldn’t go down without a fight.
“Now,” the speaker said, hushing the crowd and gathering attention. “Please, stand at attention and hold your silence as our Empress, her majesty, Queen Gialda, graces us.”
There was a squeaking and a rumbling as something large and dark arose from behind the hill and the stage. Several more of the large, scorpion bees made their way up the hill, each hefting a massive iron chain as they trudged forward with something colossal dragging behind them. The structure, looking like a large throne, came into view a moment later with something oozing over the top of the seat.
“O-Oh… my… God…” I said, jaw dropping and eyes bulging. “That is one fat fucking bee…”
“Keep your mouth shut, foul fruit!” One of the guards said, thrusting its spear toward me and stopping just before impact. “Not another word about her majesty! Or her impressive stature! You would be lucky to grace her presence!”
“Okay, geez. Sorry,” I said, waving sway the spear and backing up before the bee huffed and turned back to the spectacle at hand.
I wasn’t lying. It was a thick bee. The Queen was dark and stripeless, her soft body resembling more of wet cement rather than the hard chiton of her people. I could see no stinger, but there were four thin black legs that dangled from the edge of the throne, four arms to match at her sides, and small, translucent wings that shone from just above her bulbous head. She had two heaving, wrinkled, sagging breasts that slung along her torso as if they were crawling away, and an enormous scar that ran the length of her stomach to her chest and bled with a green ooze.
She was fucking repulsive. Easily claiming number two for worst thing I’ve seen, with the King possibly claiming first and Fogdahn sitting in a close third. At least, that was the initial rank. Then the scar opened up, bleeding more as a writhing, small, yellow striped creature crawled its way out and tumbled to the ground in a wet heap. A mage bee dressed in opal-inlayed blue robes scurried up and snatched the little bee in its arms, rocking it like a baby as it retreated back into the crowd.
Number one. That Queen had officially earned number one.
She spoke with a velvet tone. It was a loud whisper that seemed to captivate her audience as if by magic. Hell, for all I knew it really could have been magic.
“My… children…” she crooned, making the army of killers turn to docile puppies. “You have made your Queen proud on this day… For too long, the kingdom of Mothric has flourished as we have starved… It has grown while we have dwindled… This king, this liar, has allowed us to but live in its shadow… Yet, thanks to my people… we will see a new day dawn for Icaraz…” She paused long enough for the crowd to chant her name in unison like a chiming bell. “Is there… another who would speak… before we commence what is to come…”
I watched idly as a line formed with three, then four, then five bees falling in single file at the edge of the stage awaiting their turn to speak. Yet they were not the main event. Not even close. A figure rippling with muscle, four armed and four legged, shoved his way through them without concern before taking the stage beside the robed speaker.
“Ah, the betrayed son! Come to weave a tale!” The speaker bee said, moving aside to give up the enter stage. “Speak your peace, new brother of Icaraz!”
Foghurdt looked at his father as if he were staring down the barrel of a gun. His gaze was steady, yet held malice and fear. Meanwhile I could only look on in disappointment. Shit. They had been right. Some part of me knew it, yet didn’t want to accept it. Then again how could I look at him as a bad guy after hearing what his father had done?
“I have little to say,” Foghurdt said in a growl, teeth clenched and nostrils flared. “My father, the king I have served and followed for all of my days, is little more than a wolf hiding amongst the skin of a lamb. A coward. The fool who befriended Gods just to betray them. I-“
“Oh, shut up,” the king said, his booming voice silencing his son and the crowd. Everyone, including myself, were momentarily speechless. “Just shut your entitled, self-obsessed, boisterous mouth. You whine like a child, Foghurdt. You always have. Please, for the love of the dying Gods, just shut your trap.”
The crowd was enamored. Speechless. Completely drawn to everything that was happening on stage. Their voices rose, their shouting commenced, and two deep thumps sounded in near unison from our cell as two absurdly large arrows thumped through the chests of our guards.
The cavalry had arrived.