The Bee Dungeon
Author: Icalos
POFair 302.1 - Bee Humbled!
Nenavann watched as Tower Keeper Belissar commanded his forces. He had been invited to stay and observe and gladly took up the offer. Wardmaster Varilold had reported her own observations but it was still good to see things with his own eyes.
After all, the Tower Keeper had taught the Circle and the Compact a nearly unbelievable amount of lessons in the very short time they had known him. His mere existence had overturned all of their assumptions on dungeons and their interactions with the Hunger…and revealed that the Compact and the Circle had hamstrung their own dungeons. Nenavann, as the first dungeon master of the fair and founder of the Circle, could not help but feel somewhat responsible…but what’s done was done. What was important now was to learn as much as they could and decide how to respond.
Of course, Nenavann could not fail to remember the other implication of Belissar’s existence: if his dungeon had survived, others did as well. The fair folk, by isolating themselves, may have fallen far behind the humans and the beastkin. Their only consolation was that the beastkin had split from their human masters in the centuries since, so they were no longer facing a monolithic faction.
And then there was Belissar’s impact as a person. Nenavann was well encouraged to see Belissar had cared for the Heart of the Forest as he had hoped. More than cared for it, it was surprising the Heart had grown as much as it had in the short time Belissar had it. He still had
questions on how that happened…and why it apparently wanted to drink honey. He felt there was some factor he had missed…but, unfortunately, he was no expert. He had only grown a single one of the Hearts before so he could not say what was normal or not, perhaps his own had grown particularly slowly. He’d have to wait and see.
But Belissar had gone above and beyond anything Nenavann had ever dreamt. Princess Finnakynne, the little devilish demigod herself, had been completely transformed by her short time here. Nenavann himself could scarcely believe it, a good part of him still wondered if it were some sort of long-running deception. He could only rule that out because he knew Queen Vanieskon would not stand for it given Belissar’s importance to her and the fair folk.
Which meant…he had to take it at face value that Princess Finnakynne was acting politely, sincerely, and using her powers to honestly help the bumblebees. Her time in Belissar’s Tower had not only healed her from her traumatic first battle, but had opened up her heart for the very first time he had ever witnessed. When her mother had done all that she could to make her guarded and her father wasn’t even physically present in this plane of existence.
Belissar thought he hadn’t done much…but Nenavann knew better. All fair folk drank in ambient mana and were thus more in tune with their surroundings than the mortal races. The pixies were even more mystical in nature than the elves…and Princess Finnakynne was a demigod, her existence partially spiritual rather than fully physical. That was what had made her deceptions so devastating to the younger members of the Compact, she could subconsciously read anyone who let their mana leak and so find words that resonated with them. Even more so for her fellow dungeon masters, whose mana suffused their dungeons and could not be hidden from those within.
But her abilities went both ways, Princess Finnakynne could also be far more sensitive to her surroundings and the nature of those around her as a result. So…that she had chosen the Tower Belissar had built as her place of refuge and the place where she could open her heart, even after having been exposed to violence between sapients? Any last doubts Nenavann may have had about Belissar’s character were well and truly gone.
It was…humbling, to say the least. That Princess Finnakynne would remain guarded for her entire life in the Compact but open up so quickly in a human’s dungeon spoke…poorly of the environment the fair folk had crafted in comparison. Nenavann had no choice to admit the fair folk had not done the best job in cooperating over the years. How could they? The Land of Fair may have expanded greatly since it was first built but the Hunger had forced them to try and fit all that remained of many different peoples into one shared space, where they had to huddle together and await a slow but seemingly inevitable doom. It had been a miracle they managed to keep the peace, but no one who remembered life before could help but be on edge…or could help but to try and exert as much control as they could over whatever they could. They had managed to keep this all deep down so that the younger generations could live as unaffected as possible…but Princess Finnakynne had likely noticed, at least subconsciously, that all the signatories were doing their absolute best to ignore each other and the situation they had found themselves in. That deep down, it took something as big and binding as the Compact to maintain even the veneer of peace between them.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from NovelBin; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
And now that Tarwantrad and Belissar had opened the gates of the Land of the Fair, all that frustration burst open. And how had the fair folk responded? By lashing out or scheming for their own gain. Over a thousand years of supposed peace and cooperation were coming undone within weeks due to one, single unexpected event. The signatories seemingly could not contain themselves, even when the fate of their civilization was on the line.
But well, how could he fault them? He, too, had spent all of his time sequestered away in his dungeon, rebuilding models of all that he lost instead of working to reclaim the real things. Developing a beautiful philosophy of dungeon mastery that somehow missed the dungeons’ true purpose. Doing nothing to fulfill his promise to Erynmor because of the sheer magnitude of the task and all of the feelings even thinking about it brought up within him.
“Another one fell into a pit! Four more wolves left…”
Nenavann turned his attention back to the present. He watched as Belissar, a human, coordinated with the Royal Pixie Guard without fear or hesitation. He watched monster bees that were fully committed to giving their lives for the dungeon’s defense do all in their power to survive on account of Belissar’s wishes. He watched karnuq and spiderkin, who were apparently at such odds they wished to kill each other as children, now cooperate to defend their joint home. He watched Belissar seamlessly ask bees, beastkin, fair folk, and humans for their opinions one after another, pulling them all into a single cause and giving all of them a chance to participate and speak up. It seemed so simple for the young human to work with anyone who would help him defeat the Hunger, so simple for him to prioritize the good of his home and his people over past grievances.
More and more, Nenavann felt they had a
to learn from this young human. Or, perhaps it was because he was young, because he had not lived through all the terrors and tragedies over the years, that he could handle this situation with far more ease than they. If so, Nenavann could only hope that the signatories could overcome the wounds and sorrows of the years before it was too late.
Or, if they failed to do so, that Queen Vanieskon would drag them all to the future she envisioned. Nenavann made a wry smile towards himself. He never thought the day would come when he would trust a human and the queen of the pixies over all other fair folk, but here he was.
Wardmaster Varilold walked over to him with much the same look on her face.
“Humbling, isn’t it? One human beekeeper stumbling about has achieved more in months than we have in centuries, despite all our experience and lore.”
Nenavann let out a sigh.
“Perhaps it’s inevitable. The humans always did seem more energetic than we. I think I’m starting to understand why.”
Wardmaster Varilold shrugged.
“I’ll leave the philosophy of species to you. All I know is we need to do our best to match them. Have you spoken with Queen Vanieskon?”
Nenavann nodded.
“I’ve begun rewriting the code of the Circle based on what you’ve reported and for the realities of expansion into the land of mortals. I will need the signatories’ approval to implement it, though.”
Wardmaster Varilold smirked.
“With Queen Vanieskon drawing her line in the sand, that shouldn’t be a problem. You should be prepared, though, if anyone attempts to stall. You know as well as I that we cannot afford to delay, we’ve lost enough time as it is.”
Nenavann shook his head. He then turned his gaze to his surroundings as Tower Keeper Belissar announced the end of the purification. Pixies, humans, beastkin, and bees alike all began to cheer. Princess Finnakynne laughed like he’d never seen her before as the bumblebee soldier she rode on looped around in the air.
“You need not worry about me. The future of the fair folk is here, in more ways than one. I will give all that I have to preserve it.”
After all, the Tower Keeper had taught the Circle and the Compact a nearly unbelievable amount of lessons in the very short time they had known him. His mere existence had overturned all of their assumptions on dungeons and their interactions with the Hunger…and revealed that the Compact and the Circle had hamstrung their own dungeons. Nenavann, as the first dungeon master of the fair and founder of the Circle, could not help but feel somewhat responsible…but what’s done was done. What was important now was to learn as much as they could and decide how to respond.
Of course, Nenavann could not fail to remember the other implication of Belissar’s existence: if his dungeon had survived, others did as well. The fair folk, by isolating themselves, may have fallen far behind the humans and the beastkin. Their only consolation was that the beastkin had split from their human masters in the centuries since, so they were no longer facing a monolithic faction.
And then there was Belissar’s impact as a person. Nenavann was well encouraged to see Belissar had cared for the Heart of the Forest as he had hoped. More than cared for it, it was surprising the Heart had grown as much as it had in the short time Belissar had it. He still had
questions on how that happened…and why it apparently wanted to drink honey. He felt there was some factor he had missed…but, unfortunately, he was no expert. He had only grown a single one of the Hearts before so he could not say what was normal or not, perhaps his own had grown particularly slowly. He’d have to wait and see.
But Belissar had gone above and beyond anything Nenavann had ever dreamt. Princess Finnakynne, the little devilish demigod herself, had been completely transformed by her short time here. Nenavann himself could scarcely believe it, a good part of him still wondered if it were some sort of long-running deception. He could only rule that out because he knew Queen Vanieskon would not stand for it given Belissar’s importance to her and the fair folk.
Which meant…he had to take it at face value that Princess Finnakynne was acting politely, sincerely, and using her powers to honestly help the bumblebees. Her time in Belissar’s Tower had not only healed her from her traumatic first battle, but had opened up her heart for the very first time he had ever witnessed. When her mother had done all that she could to make her guarded and her father wasn’t even physically present in this plane of existence.
Belissar thought he hadn’t done much…but Nenavann knew better. All fair folk drank in ambient mana and were thus more in tune with their surroundings than the mortal races. The pixies were even more mystical in nature than the elves…and Princess Finnakynne was a demigod, her existence partially spiritual rather than fully physical. That was what had made her deceptions so devastating to the younger members of the Compact, she could subconsciously read anyone who let their mana leak and so find words that resonated with them. Even more so for her fellow dungeon masters, whose mana suffused their dungeons and could not be hidden from those within.
But her abilities went both ways, Princess Finnakynne could also be far more sensitive to her surroundings and the nature of those around her as a result. So…that she had chosen the Tower Belissar had built as her place of refuge and the place where she could open her heart, even after having been exposed to violence between sapients? Any last doubts Nenavann may have had about Belissar’s character were well and truly gone.
It was…humbling, to say the least. That Princess Finnakynne would remain guarded for her entire life in the Compact but open up so quickly in a human’s dungeon spoke…poorly of the environment the fair folk had crafted in comparison. Nenavann had no choice to admit the fair folk had not done the best job in cooperating over the years. How could they? The Land of Fair may have expanded greatly since it was first built but the Hunger had forced them to try and fit all that remained of many different peoples into one shared space, where they had to huddle together and await a slow but seemingly inevitable doom. It had been a miracle they managed to keep the peace, but no one who remembered life before could help but be on edge…or could help but to try and exert as much control as they could over whatever they could. They had managed to keep this all deep down so that the younger generations could live as unaffected as possible…but Princess Finnakynne had likely noticed, at least subconsciously, that all the signatories were doing their absolute best to ignore each other and the situation they had found themselves in. That deep down, it took something as big and binding as the Compact to maintain even the veneer of peace between them.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from NovelBin; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
And now that Tarwantrad and Belissar had opened the gates of the Land of the Fair, all that frustration burst open. And how had the fair folk responded? By lashing out or scheming for their own gain. Over a thousand years of supposed peace and cooperation were coming undone within weeks due to one, single unexpected event. The signatories seemingly could not contain themselves, even when the fate of their civilization was on the line.
But well, how could he fault them? He, too, had spent all of his time sequestered away in his dungeon, rebuilding models of all that he lost instead of working to reclaim the real things. Developing a beautiful philosophy of dungeon mastery that somehow missed the dungeons’ true purpose. Doing nothing to fulfill his promise to Erynmor because of the sheer magnitude of the task and all of the feelings even thinking about it brought up within him.
“Another one fell into a pit! Four more wolves left…”
Nenavann turned his attention back to the present. He watched as Belissar, a human, coordinated with the Royal Pixie Guard without fear or hesitation. He watched monster bees that were fully committed to giving their lives for the dungeon’s defense do all in their power to survive on account of Belissar’s wishes. He watched karnuq and spiderkin, who were apparently at such odds they wished to kill each other as children, now cooperate to defend their joint home. He watched Belissar seamlessly ask bees, beastkin, fair folk, and humans for their opinions one after another, pulling them all into a single cause and giving all of them a chance to participate and speak up. It seemed so simple for the young human to work with anyone who would help him defeat the Hunger, so simple for him to prioritize the good of his home and his people over past grievances.
More and more, Nenavann felt they had a
to learn from this young human. Or, perhaps it was because he was young, because he had not lived through all the terrors and tragedies over the years, that he could handle this situation with far more ease than they. If so, Nenavann could only hope that the signatories could overcome the wounds and sorrows of the years before it was too late.
Or, if they failed to do so, that Queen Vanieskon would drag them all to the future she envisioned. Nenavann made a wry smile towards himself. He never thought the day would come when he would trust a human and the queen of the pixies over all other fair folk, but here he was.
Wardmaster Varilold walked over to him with much the same look on her face.
“Humbling, isn’t it? One human beekeeper stumbling about has achieved more in months than we have in centuries, despite all our experience and lore.”
Nenavann let out a sigh.
“Perhaps it’s inevitable. The humans always did seem more energetic than we. I think I’m starting to understand why.”
Wardmaster Varilold shrugged.
“I’ll leave the philosophy of species to you. All I know is we need to do our best to match them. Have you spoken with Queen Vanieskon?”
Nenavann nodded.
“I’ve begun rewriting the code of the Circle based on what you’ve reported and for the realities of expansion into the land of mortals. I will need the signatories’ approval to implement it, though.”
Wardmaster Varilold smirked.
“With Queen Vanieskon drawing her line in the sand, that shouldn’t be a problem. You should be prepared, though, if anyone attempts to stall. You know as well as I that we cannot afford to delay, we’ve lost enough time as it is.”
Nenavann shook his head. He then turned his gaze to his surroundings as Tower Keeper Belissar announced the end of the purification. Pixies, humans, beastkin, and bees alike all began to cheer. Princess Finnakynne laughed like he’d never seen her before as the bumblebee soldier she rode on looped around in the air.
“You need not worry about me. The future of the fair folk is here, in more ways than one. I will give all that I have to preserve it.”