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Tales of Jeb!
Chapter 213: The Final Trial

Chapter 213: The Final Trial

As the Swarm gathered around him in a cloud, Jeb realized that part of him still felt as though it was missing. He called his Magic and began to dance. The bees quickly joined in, and Jeb soon had his lute in his hands once again.

After his last Trial, Jeb saw the lute in a new light. Looking at it with his Magical vision, he saw it blazing with Magics. Unlike most of the objects in the tree, however, the lute’s Magic appeared to pulse. It took Jeb a few seconds to realize that the pulsing was in time to his own heart’s beating. Looking at his Swarm, Jeb saw that it too appeared to inhale and exhale with his breaths.

Ignoring the Druids around him, Jeb took a long moment to simply exist around the parts of him that had been denied during the Trials. The bees buzzed excitedly, telling him about their interactions with the insect portions of the Circle of Swarms. Even though they were not undergoing an explicit Trial, it was clear to Jeb that the Druids had been training his bees. What, exactly, they were being trained for, he was unsure. However, Jeb could not help but notice that the Swarm always maintained a full array of Elements surrounding him.

Turning back to the lute in his hands, he took a moment to retune it, watching its Magic come into alignment as the notes did. Before he could get past the most rudimentary of his warmups, he heard someone cough meaningfully.

“As much as I am certain that you have missed your bees and lute,” the Archdruid said calmly, “you are still in the midst of your Trial.”

Jeb blushed slightly. He had completely lost himself in the experience of being whole again. Making a mental note to do his best to avoid ever being completely separated from his lute and bees again, Jeb nodded at the Archdruid.

“What is my next Trial?” Jeb asked. The sound seemed to echo through the woods around him, as though the crowd of Druids were whispering the question to themselves.

“Thus far, we have only tested your Magics in isolation. For many Trialists, isolation is the best way to bring out their connection to the greater world. Some, however,” Jeb saw the Circle of Swarms smile, “connect best through their Bindings.”

Jeb nodded slowly.

“With that in mind,” the Archdruid continued, “this final portion of your Trial will test the Binding between you and your Swarm.”

“Why not my lute?” Jeb asked, “it is equally bound to me.”

The Archdruid froze for the briefest of moments. It was almost as though he had been caught by surprise when Jeb asked his question. Almost too quick for Jeb to notice, the Archdruid schooled his features and explained, voice taking on a slightly more haughty note, “the lute was Bound to you fundamentally for Bardic Magic, was it not?”

Seeing Jeb nod, he continued, “the purpose for your Binding fundamentally affects the way that your Magic will express through it.”

That made sense to Jeb, so he swung his lute around so that it rested on his back. A Druid motioned for him to hand the lute over, but Jeb pretended not to notice. He had just gotten the instrument back, and he wasn’t ready to be parted with it just yet.

The Archdruid must have realized that he would not budge on the point. Instead of demanding that Jeb turn it over, he simply gave his first instruction, “have your bees arrange themselves in a line from strongest to weakest.”

Jeb shrugged and asked the bees to arrange themselves. They struggled with the order at first. Dancing, they explained their issue to Jeb. A Water Bee could extinguish any Fire Bee, but in doing so would produce enough Steam Mana for a Steam Bee to overtake them.

Nodding, Jeb modified his direction. “Within each Element, arrange yourselves from strongest to weakest, with the strongest bees closest to me.”

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The bees hurried to obey. Once they were in position, a sphere surrounding Jeb, he gave his next direction. “Elements that are practically the same, like Fire and Flame, arrange yourselves as a single Element.”

The bees didn’t move.

Looking at all the Elements represented, Jeb saw the issue. Fire was like Flame, but Flame was like Heat. Heat was functionally Energy, and Energy was effectively Light. Light and Rainbow were practically the same. Rainbow and Cloud likewise were practically inseparable. Cloud could quickly become Mist or Rain, both of which easily led to Water.

Jeb stared at his bees for a long moment, trying to resolve the issue. Looking at the assembled Druids, it was clear that the correct answer was not pointing out the absurdity of trying to rank Elementally Attuned Bees from strongest to weakest given the fact that Elements were weaker and stronger than each other. At long last, an answer came to Jeb, even though he had to grit his teeth to accept it.

“Rank yourselves from most to least Mana,” he said. His bees almost always grew larger and more physically powerful the more Mana they had. However, during the years he had spent working on his Doctorate, the Hive had bred more and more specialized subspecies of bee. Some of the subspecies were significantly larger or smaller. Still, given that the Trial was Magical in nature, Jeb hoped that the Mana ranking would be appropriate.

He looked up from his thoughts to see that the bees had not moved. Watching the Swarm dance, he understood their new issue and modified his directions again, “rank yourselves from greatest to least current Mana capacity.”

The bees quickly flew to their new formation. A line stretched further than he could see. Jeb took a moment to wonder how many bees had joined the offshoot of the Hive in the Enclave. He did not have time to dwell on the question, however, because the Archdruid was already giving Jeb his next command. Jeb had his bees fly in more and more intricate patterns. Eventually, however, the Archdruid gave Jeb a command that he could not follow.

“Have your bees fight one another,” he said calmly.

“No?” Jeb replied. “Why would I do that?”

The Archdruid’s presence suddenly flared in Jeb’s vision, and he was once again reminded of just how much more powerful than him the man was. With a tone as cold as a world without sun, he responded, “you will do as I command because you are a Trialist. You have sworn to fulfill your Trials to the best of your abilities.”

Jeb grimaced and looked at his bees. They buzzed eagerly around him, awaiting his next instruction. It took him a moment to notice why the situation seemed odd.

With a start, Jeb realized that the bees could not understand the Archdruid. The bees had no issues understanding Jeb’s voice, or even the voices of the rest of his family. He finally remembered that the Archdruid was not speaking Republican.

I wonder why my bees don’t know Druidic, Jeb idly mused as he debated ignoring the Archdruid’s command.

Eventually, however, Jeb accepted that the Archdruid was correct. He had agreed to do the Trials, and so he would do them to the best of his ability. Why he needed to kill his own Bound bees to do so, he was unsure, but the man’s tone had left no room for disagreement.

Opening his mouth, however, Jeb realized that he could not utter the command. Something deep inside him was unable to tell his bees to die needlessly. His bees, noticing something was wrong, danced their question.

“The Archdruid,” Jeb explained, feeling the difference between the sounds in Republican and Druidic, “wants me to harm some of you.”

His bees buzzed in recognition. After all, they danced, in the absence of the Empress, Jeb was the ranking member of the Swarm. It was completely within his rights to demand that a few bees sacrifice their lives for his own sake and the sake of the Hive. Seeing Jeb’s skepticism, his bees danced more emphatically. It was his responsibility as their leader to do what was best for himself and the Swarm.

Jeb recognized the fact that he was bound to the Swarm and its initial Hive, not to each individual bee. More than that, he understood that each bee was not sapient in itself. For the Swarm, killing an individual bee was far less harmful than Jeb stubbing his toe.

Even knowing that, Jeb felt the iron in his soul holding him to his initial inclination. He had changed since leaving the farm, he knew that. Much of the change was even healthy. However, he could not and would not accept that he had changed into someone who would actively harm someone Bound to him.

“I cannot,” he finally said, looking at the Archdruid.

The crowd of Druids exclaimed at his refusal, and Jeb saw more than a few of them start to shield themselves.

“Is that your final answer,” the Archdruid asked, eyes hard as granite.

Jeb swallowed. “It is. I cannot be responsible for directly harming my bees.”

All at once, the pressure that had been building in the clearing vanished. Jeb let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and saw more than a few Druids do the same. The Archdruid smiled at Jeb, and he instinctively smiled back. After a second, however, Jeb saw that there was nothing kind in the Archdruid’s smile.