Dessi watched with mild amusement how Maker and Fanv tried to teach the visvarg pups morals. 

"Don't eat people."

"Why?"

People are friends.

"Why?"

"Because if we act like people then we will be seen as people."

"Why is that important?"

It is nice to have friends. To be surrounded by friendly people is great fun!

"Why?"

"Uh... I dunno, it's just nice ok? Mommy and Mak-"

Grandma.

"-Mommy and grandma Maker likes people. So don't eat people or Mommy and Grandma will be sad."

"Oh, we won't eat people then."

"Good good."

You are such good children! Come give grandma a hug!

"Why?"

Dessi couldn't hold it anymore. She stood up in a huff and stomped her hooves to get the kids' attention.

"If ye say 'Why' another bloody time imma stomp those undeveloped nuts of yours into-"

"DESSI!"

Do not swear in front of the children!!!

The group of children looked at each other. Then they turned to face Dessi and in unison said:

"Why?"

"COCKY LITTLE SHITS."

The charging satyr got halfway to the kids before she got picked up by the scruff of her neck. Noah held the flailing satyr up to his face and gave her a disapproving look. Johna stood next to him and was trying very hard to stifle a laugh.

Ah, welcome back. Any news from Krystal?

"Let me down ye ass-licking muscle-tower!"

"Now now Dessi, why are you so angry? And yes, Maker. Johna, would you like to brief them on what Krystal told us while I help Dessi calm down?"

"Ye calm down yerself fucker! Let me down!"

Johna nodded then cleared his throat. The children watched as the monk sat down a bit further away and adjusted his grip on Dessi. He put his hands in her armpits and held her up in front of him while telling her stuff like "Take deep breaths." "They're just kids, it's not worth the fuss.". Dessi looked like she was about to explode.

"So, Krystal told us that the village is still in an uproar. People are still panicking even though it's been a couple of hours since we retreated back to the dungeon. The mayor is trying his best to restore order and Krystal is struggling to convince them not to send guards into the forest to fight the bees. The guard captain, Henry Stronghart, is taking Krystal's side as he believes that the bees would slaughter them if they tried approaching them."

Hm Hm. Should we lend a hand? Try calming them down?

"How would we do that?"

We would send in our calmest members, with calm messages about calmness and peace. Tell them that the bees are not actually out to get them.

For a long calm moment, Johna just looked at Maker to figure out if she was serious. Turns out she was. He then cleared his throat and continued.

"I... don't think that will work..."

Why not?

"People would need to be extremely gullible and fearless to trust a group of creatures suddenly appearing and telling them that they mean no harm. Especially after a huge swarm of monster bees has just chased them out of the forest while large birds scream about the end of the world."

Maker frowned. She opened her mouth to say something then closed it again. Johna watched as she sat in mid-air and floated around a bit while thinking. She slowly spun around once vertically then horizontally all the while holding her chin and making a "Hmmmmm" sound. Johna cleared his throat again to get her attention.

"Maybe... not send in the whole force while meeting the villagers for the first time?"

But if they turn hostile, then just sending a few or just one creature would put that creature in danger.

"Depends on who you send and how."

...Tell me more.

Peter Coaler was a simple man. He had served as village guard since he came of age since he didn't have any talent for the craft of Bards. Stories and songs were good and all and the way they twisted words and formed melodies and music with little more than one tool and their voice almost seemed like magic. But there were other things in life. Things that paid better and offered a little more excitement than a stirring crowd or a tavern brawl. Peter loved fighting.

Peter loved fighting. Preferably things that should but couldn't fight back very well. Wolves and bandits were dangerous after all, so fighting them when they'd been injured or outnumbered by his squad was just good tactics right? He had slain many dangerous foes. That was proof that his tactics worked. Yes, he had won against many dangerous, terrifying monsters. 

He kept telling himself this while walking into the forest. He held a basket full of fruit and pretty stones, meant for the Forest Guardian. Yes, he had killed things way stronger than himself. He would be safe. He could always run if the birds and bees showed up. Slowly he made his way to the newly built shrine of the Forest Guardian. He had seen no sign of the horrible creatures as he entered the forest so hopefully, they'd left already.

"A-and if not, then I'll just- GYA?!"

A startled bird flew away from a nearby bush. Peter nearly dropped the basket. He fumbled with it and the spear in his other hand while surveying his surroundings. Just a normal bird. Not a huge speaking crow. He spat on the ground. Even if it was a crow, he could take it. Hell, he'd killed a werewolf before! What could an overgrown bird do to him?! He would scewer it on his spear just like how he'd planted those arrows in that hideous beasts pelt. A shot to its head and a shot in its heart. He hadn't seen the beast very well when it fell into the crevice but he had hit it and since he was such a good archer surely it had hit the head and heart.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Peter opened his mouth to laugh at the memory but shut his mouth tightly at another sound from deep within the forest. He stood still and listened. What was that noise? It kept on coming. Music? A shrill sound whipped through the air followed by another and then another. Peter slowly started moving again. He held his breath as he followed the sound. The shrill sound returned again. It sounded like a drawn out whine but of a much higher pitch than any animal could make. 

He could see parts of the shrine now. Grey stone and old dried branches forming a small pavilion. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the deep rumble of a drum shook the area. The shrill whine followed the drum and this time he heard more sounds. Flutes, drums, the humming of voices. The shrill sound set the pace. A rhythm. And the drums answered. The voices hummed without words, filling the silence between the drums and flutes.

Peter took one more step and finally saw the whole clearing. The breath he'd been holding stuck in his throat and he felt the blood drain from his face. 

Dryads, rats, and crows, all playing their part of the music. The drums rumbled again only that this time Peter saw that there were no drums at all. It was the sound of hooves hitting the ground in perfect sync. White marble hooves sending tremors down his spine. And the flutes were crude wooden things drilled with holes, played by rats and mice. The crows sat on the roof and pillars and ground, and every bird's throat was filled with air and from their beaks came the voices of men.

Peter watched and trembled at the sight of animals and monsters using tools and singing as if they were human. Then the shrill sound whipped through the air again and the melody repeated itself at its signal. Peter stared at the source of it. In the pavilion sat two people, only one of them human. The mayor's son Mikvel Ebonquill and the Guardian of the forest.

Mikvel was blowing on a blade of grass, creating the haunting whine that set the pace of the song. Peter had seen others making sounds from grass before. Mostly children. He'd played with that sound when he was young as well. He and his friends would grab tufts of grass and then sit somewhere and use the shrill sounds it made to annoy others. It was high pitched and loud if done right but the sound was always the same. Yet there he sat, playing with the grass, making it sing just like a flute. It was as if the grass itself bent and changed to please the boy.

And the creatures played along with him. The haunting melody kept going and going. It was like a bird flying around in Peter's head. It made his head spin. Then he looked at the person not playing and threw up.

She was alive! That horrible beast that had attacked the village months ago! Except she wasn't a beast anymore and neither was she human. Tall horns and skin as white as the silk robes she wore. Mikvel was wearing the same kind of robes. Were they ghosts? Was he seeing the dead? The music grew louder around him and something moved on the roof of the pavilion.

Peter swore he could feel his heart stop. The drums stopped as the bee on the roof launched itself at the nearest Dryad. The blade of grass gave one final shrill whine before the Dryads screamed. They moved as one, too quick for Peter's eyes to follow. He only now noticed the spears the Dryads had been holding and every single one of them flew at the bee at once. It was dead before it hit the ground, 8 spears lodged firmly in its carapace. 

Had Peter stayed longer he might have noticed the thin white strings coiled around the Bumbleant's limbs. Some of them snapped after the spears made impact and a leg fell to the ground with a thud. But Peter was already running towards Ogon, fully determined to escape with his life.

"That could have gone better."

"Really? I think it went pretty well."

"The leg fell off. What if he noticed?"

"Yeah... I should have connected it better... But he ran as soon as he saw it die so it probably didn't matter."

"Mikvel..."

"Don't complain, it was hard enough to make the thing move at all."

Mikvel pouted at Fanv. She patted him on the head and smiled.

"Stop sulking. You did good! He'll probably think it was a zombie bee!"

"Stop it."

Fanv ruffled his hair.

"Stooop. There's no such thing as zombie bees!"

"The world's a big place! That's totally a zombie bee right there! Saw it move and all!"

"Stop teasing me, you know I was the one making it move!"

"No way! Zombie bee!"

'Zombee!'

"No, don't. You'll give Maker ideas."

"Good rat! More puns! Don't deny the existence of zombees!"

"Fanv no!"

'Zombee zombee!'

'Fear the zombees!'

"Argh!"

Mikvel stomped off back to the dungeon. The rodents cheered and Fanv laughed.

'He flees! The Queen has won!'

'Another victory for our glorious Queen!'

The dryads retrived their spears from the Bumbleant corpse and then picked up the corpse itself. The merry bunch of creatures then followed Mikvel back to Mageon.

Meanwhile, Peter rushed towards the village and created another minor uproar once he reached it. "The Forest Guardian has fought off the bees!" and "The mayor's son still lives!" were among the first things people learned about. Then he told them that the dryads and crows all served the Forest Guardian and that rats and mice played music together with the mayor's son to please her. The mayor himself grew proud from those news. When confronted about his son playing with filthy rodents he simply responded that "A true master can teach his art to anyone and anything. If my son can teach a rat to play the flute then that is proof of his skill!"

Peter reluctantly told them about the Guardian looking like Fanv. People started wondering if it truly was a Guardian then, and not some monster rallying more monsters. That idea was quickly shot down by a certain caravan chief. "I heard that you were the one who shot that kid."

"I heard that you were the one who shot that kid."

"Y-yes, she was a monster-"

"Bah! She was a child!"

"But a werewolf-"

"A wolf is a creature of the forest no? If she fled and was killed in the forest then that death was unjust and dishonorable. It's no wonder the Guardian would mock you by using her face."

"Dishonorable? She attacked the village!"

"Are you daft? If she'd stayed in the village then she would have been killed by the guards before she could even reach the forest. The only way she could have made it so far into the forest before dying is if she booked it the same second she started sprouting fur!"

"She didn't get that far, how would you even know-"

"A werewolf in Ogon. The fucking most exciting thing that's happened here in years not counting bandit raids. How could I not have heard every little detail about it by now? This is the city of bards for fuck's sake! Anything worth speaking about will be told thrice as many times here as in any other village's tavern!"

The crowd agreed with Krystal. This was actually the 3rd time Peter had retold his encounter with the Guardian and the crowd in the tavern was still hanging on to every word and theory made about the subject. The bards of Ogon would just as eagerly listen to stories as telling them themselves.

 The speculations continued deep into the night and the story was retold over and over again, proving Krystal's point further about bards not being able to keep a good story to themselves.

Krystal woke up an hour or so before dawn. She yawned as she silently left the inn and made her way to the edge of the forest. It was getting chilly outside. A shadow moved within the trees and drew closer to Krystal. She greeted Johna as she stepped into the cover of the leaves. Noah was probably nearby too, most likely watching out for nosy people.

Johna listened as Krystal gave him a short report on yesterday's theories and reactions. People were taking it well. They were not sure that the Guardian had taken Mikvel under her wing and that she had a group of non-human followers. The dryads and crows were hers and the bees had been repelled by said followers. People were not sure what to think about the Guardian looking like Fanv. It had been agreed that the part of the forest that had its plants turned black and gray was most likely the Guardian's domain and the heart of the forest.

Johna, in turn, told Krystal about what was happening in the Dungeon and about Maker's eagerness to make contact with Ogon. Krystal frowned when Johna told her about the scrapped "calm contact plan".

"Thankfully she agreed to a slower approach."

"Mh. Slowly introducing some creatures and their alliance to the Guardian is a better idea. It'll give people more time to think and less risk for hasty decisions."

"Agreed. What are people saying about me and Noah?"

"Not much right now. They're too focused on the o so mysterious Guardian and her followers."

"Hmm... They'll probably get less distracted if we go back to the village then."

"Yeah. Stay in the dungeon for now. What's the next step in the plan?"

"Probably to let people see Fanv and some creatures a couple of more times like yesterday. Get them used to the idea of friendly monsters."

"Ain't that a challenge haha."

"Sure is."

Johna and Krystak chatted for a bit more until a bird chirped in the distance. Johna claimed that that was the signal that people in the village were waking up and turned back to the forest to leave. Krystal watched him disappear into the greenery before leaving too. Another day of monitoring the rumors of the village awaited her.