The Bee Dungeon

Belissar rubbed his chin and furrowed his brow, humming to himself. Niobee had told him that any bee, including the queens, would absolutely love a name from him, considering it a great honor. A sign of his favor, that the bee in question was special to him.

And that gave him pause. When he had named Beero, Velebee, and Frelis, it had mostly been because he had nothing else to call them. It was true that they were special and he wanted to keep track of them, he guessed, but he hadn’t really been thinking about it as an honor or anything. However, he had now realized that it was a much bigger deal to the bees than he had anticipated…and especially when it came to the queens.

There was no doubt that the Fourth of the Seventh was special to him and deserved any such honor. The thing was, though, that he already had something to call her, so giving her a name would in fact be purely an honor. And…was she the only queen who deserved such a thing? The Firstborn and all the flower meadow queens risked their lives and the lives of their children to protect the Tower. The First of the Fifth worked without ceasing to provide enough honey for all the hives. The Third of the Sixth dunked herself in the same fire honey that had nearly killed Metsaitti to try and evolve. The Second of the Sixth saved the lives of many bees and even some of the karnuq.

So on and so forth. Each and every one of the queens gave their all for his sake and the sake of his Tower. He wanted to do something to celebrate the Fourth of the Seventh and her big achievement, but he did not want any of the other queens to feel any lesser. So, if he was going to name one, he really should name them all.

“Niobee…can you hold off on asking the queens about names? I…don’t want any of the other queens to feel like they aren’t special to me.”

“Ok!”

Belissar made a wry smile at Niobee’s cheerful dance. He…might be overthinking it. Maybe they’d all just be happy like she was. But for now…the Fourth of the Seventh worked fine as a name, one the bees had naturally chosen for themselves.

Still, he wanted to do something for the Fourth of the Seventh, so he made his way over to the Orchard hives. The Orchard queens, including the Fourth of the Seventh, zipped around him once he arrived. He smiled. He held out his hand…only to quickly realize he need both as the now giant Fourth of the Seventh tried to land. He ended up grabbing her sides with both his hands to hold her up.

“Congratulations on your evolution!”

She responded by happily wiggling about in his hands, trying to perform a dance. Once she realized she couldn’t, her antennae glowed and her mana sent her intent right to him.

“Thanks! King is best king!”

Belissar’s smiled grew wide. He let go of her so she could dance, then brushed her head with one of his hands.

“Anything I can do for you? Maybe…need any adjustments to your hive for your evolution?”

The Fourth of the Seventh paused…then burst out into a rapid dance.

“King already did! Can make moving hives now! Can bring hives with! Amazing, incredible! King is best king!”

Belissar blinked as he tried to decipher what she meant by moving hives.

“Oh! Do you mean the wax golems?”

“Yes! Those! Amazing, incredible!”

Belissar smiled and nodded. That made sense. The golems could apparently carry honeycomb and bees, so they could work as mobile hives, couldn’t they? And what better hive for a queen evolved specifically to travel than a hive that could travel with her?

“In that case, could I help you build one? I should be able to make some wax with my magic…”

He didn’t finish as the Fourth of the Seventh immediately began zipping around him as fast as she could go, creating a small whirlwind gusting around him. Her mana shouted to him.

“AMAZING! INCREDIBLE! KING IS BEST KING!”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Well, it seemed she was a definitely a fan of that idea.

Belissar spoke with the Fourth of the Seventh…or, rather, spoke with her communer and the First of the Fifth’s First Daughter while the Fourth of the Seventh continued flying happy laps around them all, on the details of the project. The First Daughter pointed out that the base wax golem now in her instincts probably wouldn’t be able to keep up with the Fourth of the Seventh, but held hope that using specialized wax might alter its characteristics. In particular, the Fourth of the Seventh had evolved from the honey from the soaring beeblossom, the same that evolved other bees into breeze bees, so she theorized that breeze bee wax might be the key. The Fourth of the Seventh could apparently lay breeze bee eggs in addition to nomadic ones, and had already done so, so they would just need to wait for those to hatch to test the theory. �

Belissar agreed to check in with them once those bees hatched and told them he would try to eat some of the soaring beeblossom honey to ensure he could make the appropriate wax with his spells, earning another “King is best king!” dance from all three of the bees. He laughed to himself as he walked away, now satisfied with his planned reward for the Fourth of the Seventh.

He was just thinking of what to do next when Tarwantrad stepped through the nexus door…and she was not alone. Standing next to her was a pale elf…or so Belissar thought given her pointed ears. The elf’s skin was sheer white, in contrast to her black dress and dark grey hair. Her eyes were gray and unfocused, with white pupils barely distinguishable from her gray irises. And while she was as beautiful as the other elves, for some reason Belissar felt a chill through his body as he observed her.

He figured that she was probably another member of the Circle here to drop off boons, though, so he put aside whatever feelings he may have had and made his way over to the nexus door. Tarwantrad smiled and waved at him once she caught sight of him, and Belissar returned the gesture.

“Hi Belissar! I’m sorry I missed your latest choice, you must tell me what the options were and what you selected!”

Belissar nodded.

“Sure.”

He glanced over at the other person, but Tarwantrad spoke before he could ask.

“Before that, though, I must introduce you. This is Hesfalle, a fellow dungeon master of the circle.”

Hesfalle lifted one of her hands, waving once.

“Hi.”

Her voice was soft and a bit raspy. Belissar waved back once.

“Hi, I’m Belissar, nice to meet you.”

Tarwantrad smiled at the exchange.

“Hesfalle’s patron is the God of Death, so I figured she could help with the underworld phlox?”

Belissar had a brief moment of panic at the mention of the God of Death, thinking back to when he first arrived at the Tower and thought he had died. He quickly overcame it though, recalling that all of that was just his misunderstanding. He could now definitively state that Niobee was not, in fact, the God of Death.

He brought his mind back on topic.

“Ah, yes. The bees told me they were having trouble with the honey from that flower…seems it’s dangerous?”

Hesfalle hummed slightly.

“Death…honey? So, it’s true. Could you show me the flowers and the honey?”

Belissar paused and glanced at Tarwantrad. She nodded with a warm smile.

“Hesfalle here is a friend and we’ve helped each other’s dungeons immensely. You can trust her.”

Belissar smiled.

“Got it. In that case, follow me.”

Belissar led the pair to the Memorial in the battle meadow. Hesfalle followed along, eyes still unfocused and fixed on the path in front of her until they arrived. As they approached the Memorial, she suddenly started glancing around. Belissar tilted his head as she began to wander around, occasionally stooping to touch the ground, but Tarwantrad didn’t seem to be bothered so he just let the strange elf do…whatever it was she was doing.

After circling around the Memorial, Hesfalle walked back over to them.

“Tarwantrad told me this is a memorial for the fallen bees, right?”

Belissar nodded and Hesfalle made a tiny smile.

“Good idea. It’s concentrating the Death mana along with the lingering feelings of the fallen, purifying them both.”

She inhaled deeply.

“It’s quite refreshing. I do see the problem with the honey thing, though. Tarwantrad said your bees make attributed honey from different flowers and then evolve in it?”

Belissar confirmed as much and Hesfalle waved to the flowers around the Memorial.

“These won’t work for that. The effect the memorial is having on the Death mana means it has a mind of its own. It only wants to be used for specific purposes.”

Belissar frowned.

“So, the bees can’t use it?”

Hesfalle shook her head.

“Death mana will be tough to use in that manner in general. I would not recommend trying it with this particular Death mana especially…but that is not a bad thing. I think you should just keep doing what you’ve been doing with this place and the mana here will do what it’s supposed to…but I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that.”

Belissar looked over to the memorial, looking over the words and the dancing bee carvings before whispering to himself.

“No, I guess not.”

Hesfalle and Tarwantrad both stayed silent, letting Belissar have a moment with the memorial. Hesfalle stepped forward without a word, walking to the beehouse in the center. She held out her hand and a faint white light began to glow. A pure white flower, from petals to stem, materialized in her hand, and she gently placed it at the entrance to the beehouse.

Belissar began to smile even as he wiped the tears growing in his eyes.

“Thank you.”

Hesfalle nodded at him with a small smile of her own, then stepped back to let him gather himself.

It took him a moment or two.