Melody's storage room, what had once been her mother's room, was stocked to the ceiling with jars of honey. Hundreds upon hundreds of jars, like blood-red, liquid jewels. She'd forgotten where she'd learned to preserve honey, to seal the jars carefully with boiling water. Maybe the bees taught her their secrets. Maybe it came to her in a dream. But as she aged, as she no longer had to rely on stored honey for sales in the winter and she'd saved more than enough in silver and gold, she'd always dreamt of leaving behind a secret to be discovered. A treasure for brave explorers, like the ones in her favorite stories, would find. This was her treasure, but now she decided on a new dream: to share it further with the world. To share it with Risa and her family.
Granny's and Goblin's Gorgeous Honey
She even invited them to live with her. She had so much space. There was the spare bedroom where her father once brewed ale in large wooden barrels as well as the cellar where he would store everything. But Risa turned her down. Humans and goblins living together would cause trouble. She'd smiled sadly and shook Melody's hands with both of hers. Melody used to think her own hands were tiny, but Risa's were even smaller, though her fingers were long, slender, and green. They were nice to hold.
Melody insisted she didn't care what people thought, and after a night of back and forth, with a break for biscuits and strawberry jam and honey, they decided that Melody would give Risa's family some gold to build a nicer stand and house. It was an investment into their partnership.
Melody went back and forth between her village and King's Hovel with Risa and the others. They brought cartloads of honey jars and jam and fresh fruit, and though she was getting on in her years, she loved the journey, and she loved spending time with them. Even Innis had warmed up to her. He didn’t say much, but he’d sit beside her and hold her yarn if she was knitting or fetch her water or tea. Often, she’d look after the baby as well. She had become a part of the family.
She introduced Risa to her bees; they weren't happy with any of the others, but they tickled Risa's fingertips and landed on her ears and welcomed her into the orchard. She taught Risa how to collect the honey carefully so as not to disturb the hive, to never take too much, and to never make a mess. And Risa was very enthusiastic, and within a few days, she was expertly jarring and preserving the honey. Somehow, the honey seemed redder and sweeter than before, though Melody couldn't trust her aging senses.
They planned out their sales so that they sold only two dozen a day, and it was first come, first serve. That way, they could maintain their supply and keep people wanting more without overtaxing the bees. Their Gorgeous Honey became a special delicacy in King's Hovel; everyone began talking about it.
Once they'd established things, and once the stand and the house were constructed out of sturdier wood and given a paint job, a soft brown color with a maroon door to represent the honey, Melody went to the head housing offices with Risa and her children and ensured they received documents claiming their property. Since she'd listed her own name on the papers, no human or elf, no Hero or anyone, could ever take it away. One of the clerks, a bitter-faced elven man scrutinized everything and secretly slid Melody a written note asking if she was under duress. To which she shook her head and wrote back, No. Risa is my dearest friend. I appreciate your concern.
When Risa tried to thank her, Melody hugged her tightly and signed, "You did this. You built all this. You took care of your family, and it's not right that you need a human to secure your home."
After a while, Risa had taken to linking her arm with Melody's, despite the odd looks they received from other pedestrians and especially other goblins. Once or twice, a guardsman stopped them to ask questions, and Risa would proudly present her papers and offer them a spoonful of Gorgeous Honey. "Come by our stand sometime if you'd like more! But you'll have to be fast because it runs out very quick!"
Melody's heart raced to see Risa happy. Her thoughts filled with such strange dreams, such blindingly hot, sizzling dreams. She always wanted to hold Risa's hand. She always wanted to be near her. Wanting to always talk to her. But she kept those thoughts to herself. You're a sad old fool, aren't you? You had so many chances at love and let them go. But now? You're too old. Too wrinkled. Too little time left. Risa has her children to look after. She has her whole life ahead of her.
But a year rolled by, and then another, and by then their business had blossomed beautifully. So much so that even the princess, a beautiful half-human, half-dwarven woman who dressed in extravagant gowns came by with a procession of guards and nobles every few days to purchase a single jar. She smiled warmly at Risa and even shook her hand and would light up with joy when Risa spoke Dwarvish. The honey was changing how people saw goblins; Risa was changing how people saw goblins.
Life's pattern had changed again but grew comfortable. Even as she aged, Melody loved visiting the busy town and seeing all the people who delighted in her honey and the disappointment on their faces when the stand ran out of the day. Melody often brought a few extra jars to give to children who'd come too late for the main supply, for women with nursing babes, or for goblins who'd been too afraid to approach during the hustle of the day.
The roads were lined with cobblestone, and the bridge was reconstructed to be sturdier and wider, and travel times shortened considerably across the kingdom. It felt as though everything around her was evolving, and Melody was happy to see the changes, but something else was happening, and she couldn't quite put her finger on why it was bothering her. As new roads grew from King's Road, as new homes were built, as more smoke filled the air, something was slowly happening to the land. Things only seemed more and more busy, more and more alive, yet... Maybe I'm just getting old, she thought. The world is leaving me behind.
She shared meals with Risa's family and on several occasions, they took her out to try different foods and show her more of King's Hovel. All the fancy restaurants and dining places, and now that she and Risa had become somewhat well known for their Gorgeous Honey, no one spoke against there being goblins in such places. Risa had even stopped wearing her hat everywhere, stopped hiding her beautiful ears. Melody adored how they stuck out, how green and pointy they were, and how they bounced when Risa laughed.
But every few months, an awful message appeared painted on the stand. Sometimes they'd cross out Scrumptious and write goblin bitch or goblins don't belong here or something worse. A few times, goods were stolen, or jars of honey smashed, and Risa would have to close the stand for the day. The townspeople would be upset, and when the princess heard of the happenings, she appointed several of the city's Heroes, including the centaur who'd felt up Risa's ears on Melody's first day in town, to patrol the area more frequently and be mindful of any disturbances. She pushed strongly for better treatment of goblin citizens, and for everyone to have the respect they deserved. She even began visiting the Scrumptious stand every day, even if she didn't purchase honey. She'd buy peach jam or mushrooms or fresh fruit and promise the royal chef would love these. She paid more generously than anyone else.
Life in King's Hovel was bustling and wonderful, and though Melody loved her little bed in Risa's house, as the years folded over, she was growing exhausted. Sometimes, things felt too busy, too upsetting, and too much. Despite their being less hostility toward goblins, there were too many people who refused to accept Risa and the others as equals. Too many people that turned their noses or spoke down to Risa or tried to haggle the price lower. "Goblin merchandise should not cost this much," they'd say, and Lars or Sylla would get upset, but Risa would talk them down and then refuse the sale. "You are welcome to try another place."
More than that, Melody was exhausted living alone. But bit by bit, with each passing month, it grew even more exhausting being in King's Hovel and being around Risa and her family. Watching Risa's children grow up and attend school and live their lives. Though they were all so welcoming and loving, especially Risa, Melody began feeling like an intruder who wanted too much. She felt like a leech on their happiness. She began to stay in her village more and more often, citing her age as an excuse.
She loved her bees and tending to her orchard and jarring her honey. Sometimes Scylla or Garo came by to help her and transport the jars to town. Sometimes Risa came and they'd stay up late drinking tea until Melody passed out in the rocking chair. But when she was alone, she felt as though she were haunting the house and the village while her heart was in King's Hovel. She wasn't sure what to make of these feelings and decided it was best to bury them. She'd be buried soon, after all. Why risk her friendship with Risa? Why risk the family she had after all this time?
This is all I'd ever wanted, Melody would think. You are all I ever wanted. I waited all my life for you. But I am alone. I am meant to be alone.
Melody kept silent, even as the strength in her limbs faded and she couldn't hug Risa back as tightly as she always wanted to.
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It wasn't until a few years later, shortly after Melody's seventy-second birthday, that the shift she'd felt in the land grew more prominent. She felt it in her tired bones.
There were fewer bees every spring, and there was too much smoke in the air, even in the village where several large factories had opened. There was a clothing factory now, hiring young girls to make clothes and young men to ship everything all over the kingdom. A vein of precious gems was discovered underground, and a new mine sprang up. Huge swathes of land had been sold to farming companies who'd stripped away the woods, flattening the land to grow specific crops. The deers and wolves that had once roamed around the village moved further and further away, and the world had changed again.
There was less honey one year and even less the year after. Melody held vigils for the hives that had gone silent, and sometimes Risa would join her in mourning.
King’s Hovel seemed to only grow busier, and people seemed to be flourishing. Innis had grown and taken over many of the duties of the Scrumptious stand. It was him and his uncle and aunt now, and there was much talk of his scandalous relationship with a human woman. Lars had become a brilliant and studious researcher, and with strategic gifts of honey, they'd gotten him into higher schooling. He wanted to practice medicine, and Risa was so proud of him.
But year after year, fewer bees filled the air, fewer jars of honey added to her dwindling collection, and Melody didn't know what to do. Her plants seldom flowered. There were no more strawberries or apples or peaches to make jam, and the grocery and the village and the town seemed so foreign to her. Less green filled the world, and every winter was harsher than the one before. Snow and frost blanketed the lands, and during that time, Melody saw Risa rarely as travel grew too difficult between the village and King's Hovel.
Once spring came by, she'd lose the desire to communicate, and she'd spend more time in her mother's rocking chair, staring out her window at the dying orchard. She didn't want to talk or walk - there were too many unfamiliar people now, and all the work with the farms and the factories and the mines had changed the face of the village. All she wanted to do was sit and knit clothes for Innis' children who were growing up so quickly, she could not believe it. Half-goblin, half-human, they almost looked like elves. But that joy was momentary; a deep sadness had taken root in her flesh. There was something wrong with the world, something wrong with her, and she could not figure it out. She just wanted to be alone.
Sometime after her eightieth, when she'd forgotten how old she was and the seasons had blurred into one another, Melody visited King's Hovel one last time. Innis had had another child, and Lars had met a cute goblin girl. There was much to be celebrated, but Melody was struggling.
The autumns had grown brisk, and the winters seeped right into her flesh. The springs came and left too quickly to be noticed. And the summers were punishing. They no longer nourished the crops, and there was never enough rain.
She noticed how many more beggars lined the King's Road. They weren't just goblins anymore, but humans and dwarves, and even some elves. The princess did what she could, giving away food from the Royal Storage, but there were too many mouths and not enough crops.
Some said this was punishment for distant wars. For crimes against the soil. For changing the dirt of the roads to stones. or the forests cut down to build homes. Others blamed gods and goddesses, demons and witches. But Melody knew what had gone wrong. The dance had fallen out of step. The bees had died.
She'd seen the hustle of King's Hovel grow and grow. She'd seen people flocking from her village, from many villages, to come live in the chaos of advancement. But now it seemed quiet. Hollow. Everyone was exhausted. People were hungry, and the Scrumptious stand held less and less food with each passing month.
Trash filled the river. She'd found the air more difficult to breathe. And without the forests, the land seemed barren. Dust and smoke swirled all about; they had perverted the balance of things. But Melody was sure she was to blame as well. The world was punishing her for being selfish. For selling the gift of her honey. For falling in love. For wanting to be near love.
Was that too much to ask? I'm sorry.
How can I fix this?
I just want Risa and her family, my family, to be alright.
There was still honey to sell to make ends meet. The decades of saving and preserving were paying off, and Risa suggested slowing down sales even further and raising the price. She offered smaller jars so that people could afford them, and sales increased as the taste of Gorgeous Honey kept people strong in such trying times, and somehow, they made it work. The hope was that the bees would return when the rains did, but more years slipped by, and their stocks of honey diminished further. And there was no more jam. Melody's bones felt as brittle as the dead branches littering the orchard grounds, and she'd tripped one morning and injured her hip.
That prompted Risa to finally move in. She even fashioned Melody a walking stick from a thick branch that had fallen off her favorite peach tree.
Melody wanted to assure Risa it would be alright. She'd be alright. That Risa didn't have to give up her life to take care of her. But Risa was adamant, and Melody didn’t fight too hard. After all, she’d get to see so much of her every single day; her heart was no longer half a day away. She couldn’t tell if that hurt more or not.
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Wrinkles had spread across Risa’s face, but her eyes were as bright as ever, like emerald gems. It was as though she’d preserved all the green of the world. She cooked all the meals and took care of the cleaning. Melody helped where she could, and they spent their evenings chatting until they fell asleep, side by side in bed.
Every night, Melody wanted to say, I love you. And once or twice, she did. But she buried it even as she signed it. I love that you are with me. Thank you for taking care of me. Thank you for coming into my life all those years ago.
And Risa would respond in kind. They'd share a gentle hug. It had to be gentle and careful now. Melody had gotten so fragile that a tight squeeze might render her unconscious.
Once or twice, or perhaps many times, Melody lost track of things. Whether or not she'd eaten. Whether she'd washed. Whether she'd gone for her daily walk. Sometimes she lost track of her walking stick; sometimes she'd forget she needed it. Her hip would hurt so much, she’d wail too loudly by accident, and Risa would come running.
Sometimes she'd forget how to put on a gown. There were mornings she woke up devastated, furious at herself for how pathetic she'd become, heartbroken. She'd ask Risa to leave. She'd beg her to leave. "Don't let me keep you here. I'm just a deaf old lady. Surely you have better things to do."
To which Risa would scowl and twitch her ears and sign furiously that she would never leave Melody, mouthing the words as she jabbed her finger angrily at Melody and signed, "I will always be by your side."
And as much as that filled Melody's heart with love, she felt like shattering. How could love hurt so much?
She carried that ache into her orchard, setting down her walking stick so she could sit on the steps. The trees stood bare, the ground cold and dry. Not even an ant rustled between the roots. She shut her eyes and pleaded for the bees to come back. For the flowers to bloom. For the world to be green again, as green as Risa's skin. I want to jar more honey, she thought. I want to leave Risa with treasure.
She'd saved only one jar. Only one, wrapped in a faded knitted blanket and hidden beneath her bed. Melody had slowly sold all but that one to keep food on the table. Even then, they'd stretched out all the meals they could, and neither she nor Risa ate much anyway. The world had grown so grim again; Melody told Risa about her childhood, about how she and her mother had survived off so little. And Risa reminisced about her time in the cave, trying to breastfeed her baby and keep everyone fed. It seemed the world moved in seasons as well, thought Melody. Struggle then hope then struggle again. She wondered what would be next.
Once they stopped selling honey, they subsisted off the few coins Garo and Sylla sent every week. It wasn't much but it was enough to buy rice, and sometimes, during their morning walks through what was left of the woods, Risa would sniff out delicious mushrooms and roots to add to their cooking. Then, a few weeks after a raging dust storm had swept through the village, Innis showed up on their front doorstep.
He'd run all the way from King's Hovel, a day's journey by foot, and he was bleeding all over and crying. Once Melody and Risa got him inside and treated his wounds and he'd had a cup of tea, his little green hands trembling so much, he managed to speak. He told them what was happening in King's Hovel and what had happened to Garo and Sylla, and Risa collapsed on the floor.
A fever ran rampant through King's Hovel. The princess had fallen ill, and the best healers of the land could not understand, but word had gotten out that she had a fondness for Granny's and Goblin's Gorgeous Honey, and a new fear spread from person to person: the goblins had poisoned the princess. The goblins had poisoned everyone.
Garo had fallen ill too, stuck in bed with the fever. And there was no more honey to sell, but they'd been growing mushrooms, so Sylla was determined to keep the stand open. She thought it would prove to everyone that goblins had nothing to do with this; that they were struggling just as much as anyone else. The people know us here.
Innis rubbed his eyes and pulled on one of his ears. "They tore down the stand," he sobbed, signing the words for Melody. His fingers wouldn’t stop shaking. "They set the house on fire with Uncle Garo inside and they dragged Aunt Sylla through the streets. I couldn't stop them. I couldn't. She told me to run."
His children had been safe with their mother, but he'd already decided to leave King's Hovel. He would hide in the village for a few days then find his wife and children and move to the new settlements across the ocean where nobody's skin or race had any bearing, and the only thing that mattered was one's willingness to do work. Or that's what he kept repeating to himself.
They couldn't hold a funeral for Risa's brother and sister-in-law, so they buried a few empty jars in the orchard and stood quietly as the sun set. Lars came to stay for a while. He'd become a doctor, but nobody wanted to be treated by a goblin, and the other goblins had fled for the wilderness. Some humans had tried to hurt him, and he wasn’t safe anymore in King’s Landing. He was disgusted with people, but he hugged Melody one day and said he was going to live with Innis' family. He left behind a sack of coins and kissed Risa on the cheek, and though she tried to remain strong, tried to remain supportive, as soon as Lars was out the door with his hat stuffed tightly over his head, she broke down crying.
Sometimes, men with pitchforks and anger came knocking. Risa would hide, and Melody would pretend not to understand what the men wanted. The villagers among them, who'd grown up calling her Granny, respected her wishes and declared that she'd been cheated by the goblins. They'd stolen her honey and poisoned it. It had all been an elaborate scheme to kill the royal family. And now the fever was spreading rampantly through the kingdom. It was declared that all goblins should be killed on sight; that was the only way to stop the illness.
There was nothing she could do. She was powerless to stop them. Powerless to help Risa. Powerless and pathetic. All she could do was hold Risa and pray.
The fever seemed to drag on and on. People were sick for weeks with no sign of end. Nobody got any better, not even the princess with all the wealth and resources of the kingdom at her fingertips. Melody kept her daily morning walk, to keep her limbs limber, to keep her bones from giving up, and to pick up what scraps of news she could from the grocer who jotted things down for her. The village had grown grim and grey, everything covered with a fine layer of dust, and the only news to come from King's Hovel was more misery. More people falling ill.
Sometimes she'd get letters from Innis about their lives in the New World, how they were struggling to earn their keep. How goblins weren't welcome here either, but there was no disease, no illness, and as long as Innis could keep chopping wood for some company, he would be able to take care of his family. His wife got a position in tailoring, though she was pregnant again. They shared that as though it was good news, but Melody worried. How will they take care of themselves? Sometimes, inside the mail, there'd be a handful of coins or tiny wooden sculptures or clothes that wouldn’t fit. There were never any letters from or about Lars.
One day, news arrived that the princess had succumbed to the illness. She'd turned into a vicious swarm of bees that chased and stung everyone in sight. Melody knew what had happened. What was happening. Waggle Dance Fever had returned to the world. It had changed form. It had spread even further than before and grown stronger, but it was back.
Melody continued making her rounds every morning with her walking stick. Risa stayed at home, refusing to leave. It saddened Melody they couldn't walk side by side, but there were too many accounts of goblins being rounded up, set ablaze, or hunted down by Heroes. There were no more safe spaces for them, not even the wilderness. Innis had been right to flee the kingdom.
Melody visited the grocer one morning to learn that the grocer's children had fallen ill with the fever. She was shutting down her business. She asked, through writing, if Melody had any more honey. Maybe it could heal the fever.
But honey would not, thought Melody. Or else the princess would never have fallen ill. She apologized to the grocer and told her there wasn't any more honey now that the flowers had gone. There was only that one jar underneath her bed. But that was her secret. It was the last jar of Gorgeous Honey in the world.
People once again ran away from the village. People once again were burned alive. Nobody knew how to be safe. Nobody knew where to hide. The fever struck anyone, anywhere, without warning, without discrimination. The factories and the mines stopped functioning, and clouds of bees swirled through the air. Swarms of them. Each one searching for places to belong. These bees did not seek out her orchard. There wasn't enough rain. There weren't any flowers. Where were the bees supposed to go?
More and more reports came of fever-stricken people disintegrating, transforming, and fear spread so forcefully through the lands, that all mail ceased to a halt. Communication stopped. The world stood still, holding its breath, its lungs clogged with dust and despair. What had happened to the world? What could she do? What could anyone do? It wasn't until Melody came home and found Risa on the floor that she understood.
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Risa had been peeling potatoes. They'd manage to grow some. It was the only thing that would grow in the dirt anymore. She needed a footstool to reach the counter and stove, and Melody loved sitting at the table where they'd first shared tea all those years ago, and watch. But one day, when Melody had come home from her morning walk, her white hair dusty and her limbs aching, she found Risa curled up on the floor. She'd fallen from the footstool. The potatoes had rolled off in every direction, and Risa lay there in agony. Melody forgot all about her hip and her walking stick. She dropped to her knees and scooped up her beloved and carried her to the bed with strength she hadn't felt in decades.
The fever had gotten Risa. She was burning hotter than the stove, and Melody tucked her in with a heavy blanket. She applied cold rags of water to Risa's head. She rubbed her hands and feet and lay beside her, crying softly, stroking Risa's hair, trying and failing to whisper over and over, I love you.
But Risa could not open her eyes. She could not even lift her head. All she did was breathe, sometimes too slowly, sometimes too quickly. Her green face was flushed, with almost a purple appearance. And her ears drooped on the pillow. Melody ignored her own pains as best she could; she wiped Risa's body down with a damp towel. She spoon-fed bowls of potato soup. She even tried to pray, but she wasn't sure who or what she was praying to. And it didn't matter. Nobody answered. A few weeks after Risa fell ill, a chunk of her cheek caved inward.
With a small splash of blood, wings emerged, shaking off the excess moisture before a black and golden body took to the air. It whizzed around in circles as though searching for something, but it didn't sting Melody. It landed on her white hair and nuzzled, and all Melody could do was sob. She could see Risa's teeth through the hole in her face, and bit by bit, more of Risa's body, her shoulder, her foot, her ears, turned into honeybees. It was too late. There was nothing to be done.
There was no time left. Melody found the last jar of red honey, the one she'd wrapped in towels and hidden beneath the bed. She wanted Risa to taste the honey, their Gorgeous Honey, one last time. She couldn't find a spoon, so she scooped it up with her shaking fingers and pressed it to Risa's lips. Gently pushing till she'd slipped into Risa's mouth, feeling her beloved suck gently. It wouldn't heal anything. Melody knew that. But it might bring Risa some peace, a reminder of everything she’d accomplished. Everything they’d done together.
Then, unsure if she'd fallen into a dream, or if a memory had surfaced, or if this was something she'd wanted all her life, she brought her fingers to her own lips. She tasted the honey, sweetened by having been in Risa's mouth, and a curious sensation, like a warm chill, like a shiver on a sunlit day, ran straight down to her heart, and Risa's chest rose with a deep inhale. A vibrant green color returned to her face, and Melody's heart raced. Maybe there had been magic to the honey after all.
And it felt as though she'd kissed Risa. As though that magic had intertwined between them. As though her love, her little broken heart had finally come apart, and all her love, all her want, came rushing forth like a summer breeze.
One of the bees spiraled down to rest on Risa's arm. With a shudder and a final beat of its translucent wings, it collapsed back into her flesh, dissolving into blood before turning green. There was no evidence of any wound, no trace of what had happened. Another bee returned to her cheek, and one by one, they all swarmed back, crawling over her body and underneath the blanket, finding their way back from which they came, until Risa was whole again.
Melody's heart ached as she watched Risa come back together. She rubbed Risa's lips with her honey-slick fingers, and when Risa opened her eyes, those dazzling green eyes so full of warmth and light, Melody let out a cry, just to feel the vibrations in her throat, because she swore she couldn't contain this love much longer.
Risa smiled softly. She looked as though she'd just woken up from a deep slumber, a sweet daydream. Her ears wiggled and Melody knelt forward, despite the creak in her hips and the sharp pain shooting down her side, and pressed her forehead to Risa's, and they kissed. Properly this time. Purposefully. A deep and wantful kiss full of so many years of longing, a kiss that would never have stopped if it weren't for the sudden tickle inside Melody's mouth.
Alarmed, she pulled away, blinking repeatedly as Risa signed, "What's wrong? Are you alright?"
But Melody shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. Something fuzzy and warm pushed its way out of her lips. It stretched its wings under her nose, and its little legs tickled her skin as it leaped off her face. A piece of her, the first piece of her to taste Risa, had flown away. It had become a honeybee.
Her legs went next. The pain surged right up her spine, unlike any of the aches and pains she'd grown accustomed to, and Melody collapsed on her knees, holding onto Risa's bedside, honey-stained fingers curled in the sheets. She’d spilled the jar too, and the last bit of Gorgeous Honey oozed out onto the bed, but she had no strength left in her body to pick it up.
Risa dropped down, lively and fully well, as though she hadn't been ill for weeks. She was confused. She looked terrified. "What do I do? Melody? Melody, please."
"Take me outside, my love," signed Melody. Despite everything, even as one of her eyelids turned into a bee and sprang free, Melody blushed. She signed the name sign she'd given Risa all those years ago, a flower blossoming from her lips. "I know what I have to do."
Risa touched Melody's face with shaking hands. She mouthed something, but Melody only smiled and shook her head. Then she tried her best to stand as Risa helped take her weight and, together, they hobbled through the little home where Melody had been born, where she'd lost her mother, where she'd met the love of her life, and where her life would come to an end.
Melody could feel Risa's body shaking and trembling as they walked. Risa was crying, and Melody tried her best to soothe her. She rubbed Risa's shoulders. Kissed her hair. Kissed her ear. She even tried to speak, tried to make soothing sounds. She wasn't sure what she sounded like, but she trusted Risa to understand.
When they went through the back door and made their way carefully down the steps and into the dead, leafless orchard, a breeze tugged at Melody's white hair. It was late into the night. A cool wind shivered through everything, and the stars gleamed overhead.
She shut her one eye, even as her eyeballs curled into bees and crawled out of their sockets. Even as her nose flew away so that her every breath felt funny, fuzzy inside of her head. Even as her arms began crawling, began spreading countless wings. She reached blindly for Risa. She squeezed Risa's hands. I can't even see what you have to say, she thought. But she signed, “I love you. I love you."
I love you. Thank you for loving me.
And she felt Risa pull her in for a furious hug. She touched her wrists. She touched her hips. She squeezed her ribs. She wanted her more than anything.
But Melody knew she was doing the right thing. The world once again needed change, needed guidance. And her time had come. The final thing she signed, as her thumbs began to wiggle, as her other pink shifted, was "Thank you. Thank you for loving me, Ri-" She'd begun to sign Risa's name, but shivered right as she brought her fingers to her lips. Her body contorted, and she burst into a cloud of honeybees.
And suddenly, the world bloomed into countless colors. There was so much light! And a feeling of weightlessness, a feeling that all the stars in the night sky had descended; she had become so much, so many, and there was sound!
Sound! The buzz of her wings. The wind through her little hairs. The branches. And there she was. Risa. Standing on the doorstep, holding onto Melody's white gown, her large green eyes crying so many tears. Melody guided her many bodies to Risa. She landed on Risa's arms and shoulders. She caressed Risa's face and nuzzled her cheeks. She licked the tears and the traces of honey off Risa's lips. She flew around her beloved and began to dance.
The dance. As parts of Melody took flight. As she spread herself throughout the village. As she followed the roads toward King's Hovel. She chased the wind across the land. She found so many bees, all the people who'd once lived and loved and tried their best. She spiraled through their swarms. And she could hear them! their endless voices. Their whispers and songs, their pleading. She could hear the sun. The clouds. She could hear the river rushing beneath the bridge. And she could hear Risa saying her name over and over in their orchard. Come back to me. Come back to me!
It was all a part of everything. Everything danced. Everything moved. Everything spun in circles, the sun and the stars, the rain and the storms, even the wind. And Melody knew what she had to do. What her mother had done all those years ago. She danced. Just as once she spoke with her fingers, now she spoke with her dance. She spoke to the sky. To the lands. To all the lost bees that needed a home.
There is someone who will love you. There is an orchard waiting to flower. There is a home for you. Come. Read my dance. Listen to my voice. There is time yet for love. There is only love. Follow me and let’s pull the world back together.
.. / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / .-.. --- ...- . / -.-- --- ..- / .- .-.. .-- .- -.-- ...
(the end)