《Bee Emperor》 Prologue A gentle spring breeze blew through a red clover covered yard, filling the early morning air with the smell of honey as an exceedingly tall langstroth hive towered over the surrounding greenery. Gentle puffs of pine smoke emanating from his smoker, Apis lifted the cover to the enormous hive as the smoke pacified the buzzing bees around him. The Carniolan bees always needed a little smoke to prevent unnecessary stings. Despite needing a step stool to reach the top of the hive, Apis was by no means short. Instead the hive measured at least 8 feet tall, with more honey supers than any hive should need. But he stubbornly refused to split the hive. After all, this large hive has produced more honey than five regular sized hives. ¡°Hello my lil ladies! Time to start taking this bad boy apart, then.¡± Grunting with exertion, Apis removed the supers, heavy with honey and wax, one by one. After carefully setting aside each one, making sure to not kill any bees in the process, Apis eventually reached the deep boxes at the bottom of the hive. Then he spent minutes carefully combing through each frame in search of his prized queen. ¡°There¡¯s the red dot, it¡¯s good to see you¡¯re still healthy after four years of hard work. I¡¯m going to have to find a replacement soon, at best you have another year or three in you.¡± Queen bees easily live 10 times longer than their worker counterparts. But even the best and most cared for queen won¡¯t live anything longer than a fraction of a human¡¯s life. By the second year of starting his hive, Apis had decided upon a name for the queen, Queen Salvo. Queen Salvo was given her name for no particular reason besides the fact that she was large and artillery shaped supposedly. After removing some of the filled frames, brushing the bees off, and replacing them with empty frames, Apis reconstructed the hive while using a steady stream of smoke to keep the bees pacified. While hauling away almost 100 pounds of honey filled frames, an unknown package was delivered to his doorstep. Placing the frames in storage to be processed later tonight, Apis headed straight towards the package. The package was no bigger than a shoebox and when shaken a sound similar to a book sliding and hitting the walls were heard. Clearly this person didn¡¯t know how to use bubble wrap. ¡°Huh? No return address, that¡¯s strange.¡± Mumbling to himself, Apis took the package inside and opened it up with his hive tool. Causing the edges of the opening to be covered in a layer of honey. Inside was a folded letter with small tears throughout and a small, worn notebook that ballooned in size from repeated opening of the pages.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Opening the letter, large bulbous penmanship greeted him. The small tears throughout the letter turned out to be due to heavy usage of an eraser. Giving the once pristine, white paper a dull gray sheen, especially around the body of the letter. Dear Apis, This is Dr. Avem. My apologies for not replying to your package of honey comb sooner. My wife said it was some of the best clover honey she¡¯s ever had! Unfortunately, I wouldn¡¯t know since not only is she built like a bear but she eats like one too. ¡°Miss Elizabeth must¡¯ve not read this letter, otherwise there¡¯d be blood all over the page.¡± As much as I wish to catch up, I¡¯m preoccupied with my experiments in South America. As difficult as it is to explain, I¡¯ll try to be brief. To start, there have been case after case of animal attacks on the edges of human civilization in the Amazon rainforest. Which while it isn¡¯t unheard of, there is something amiss. Humans typically have more control over their strength, which is why we tend to be weaker than our primate counterparts. However! No matter how much weaker we are, the primates'' strength is still within reasonable limits. But what¡¯s happening now is¡ªfueled by what we¡¯re calling qi. The captured¡ªstrong enough to leave claw marks in steel! Already¡ªdied. We¡¯ve lost many good men. ¡°This bird brain of a professor, couldn¡¯t you at least have the foresight to rewrite on a clean piece of paper. I can barely make out what¡¯s written and your blobfish-like handwriting doesn¡¯t help.¡± I¡¯ve left¡ªin the notebook. If I don¡¯t make it I want my research to¡ªa clue to this puzzle. Please whatever you do, don¡¯t¡ªmy experiments. I¡¯m worried the end of days are upon us. ¡°What a worrywart, even if the animals are stronger and more aggressive than they should be, it doesn¡¯t matter. These animals could just be roided out lab experiments released into the wild. There¡¯s always bigger shoulders for this to fall on. No need to act like you¡¯ve looked death in the eye and lost hope.¡± Anyways I¡¯ve rambled on long enough, it seems even without you in my class keeping me off topic, I¡¯ll still choose to ramble on. I hope you continue doing well in all your pursuits. Also please send my wife more honey! As they say, a happy wife, a happy life. Sincerely, Your henpecked professor ¡°I see some things never change.¡± Gently folding the letter back, Apis grabbed the edges of the box and reached in for the small notebook. Flipping through the pages randomly, a diagram of multiple geometric shapes inside of a circle caught his attention. Caressing the diagram in curiosity, suddenly the page got stuck to his finger and tore. ¡°How worn out are these pages!¡± Unsticking the page from his finger, Apis was shocked to find the diagram was no more. Almost as if his eyes played tricks on him. Instead, the page had a simple honey hued color¡ªdifferent from all the others¡ªand his thumbprint was now outlined in honey on the page. A thorough examination later and still no sign of the diagram on the page nor anywhere else in the notebook. Perplexed, Apis stopped worrying about it. ¡°Oh man, it¡¯s already past noon. I guess I was too absorbed in the notebook.¡± Preparing a simple lunch, he soon turned on the tv and dozed off as he ate. The honey hued page faintly glowed. His breathing slowly grew fainter until nothing remained. Even the wind outside was silent. Despite this, the smell of honey intensified causing the bees to glance about uneasily as if sensing that something was wrong. Chapter 1: Unbeecoming The sounds of buzzing fill my ears. No matter how much I tried to turn around and go back to sleep, it simply grew louder without concern for my splitting headache. Did I forget to pay my cable bill? Opening my eyes, I¡¯m greeted by the sight of¡­ Nothing? Not even a droplet of light enters my vision. To make matters worse, I think I¡¯m hyper-focusing on the static of my tv. Otherwise, it sounds like I¡¯m surrounded by bees. Before I can further contemplate my potential blindness, I¡¯m jostled around by what I can only assume is a giant insect. My stomach sinks as I freeze up and experience the seven stages of grief. The feeling of hard insect legs, the size of my arm, stabbing onto my body is something my dreams will be sure to reference for future use. As I writhe in mental agony, a distinct quacking sound echoes over the surrounding buzz. Minutes pass before it becomes a tooting noise. Now, instead of ending with just the one, soon I¡¯m flooded with the feeling of being stepped on and pushed around. The buzzing of insects intensifies as a stampede pushes me towards the light. My death wasn¡¯t brought about by the light, but I am freed of the constraints of solid ground. Blinded by sudden sunlight, my freefall ends without the breaking of bones. I just simply bounced off what I can only assume is the ground. Almost as if I weighed nothing. I may not be the sharpest crayon in the knife box, but I certainly fell long enough that my death should¡¯ve been guaranteed. With my eyes finally recovering, I notice I¡¯m surrounded by towering blades of grass in a wooded area. Looking further out, the trees start thinning out an unknown distance away. More intense buzzing brings my attention back towards the skies. A cloud of thousands of honey bees flies overhead. The chaotic sphere of bees soon begins to take more orderly formations. Astonishingly, the bees split off into multiple groups, each around the same thickness of 3 bees tall but with different shapes and angles. Forming hundreds of almost runic shapes surrounding what can only be a swarming queen. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. A barely noticeable red flash pulses from the queen into the countless workers before ultimately going back into the queen. Still in formation, they suddenly disappear at breakneck speeds as if pushed by an invisible force. Suddenly all is calm and the intense buzzing is now more similar to an indistinct murmur. Hidden beneath the sounds of the wind. These strange events put me into enough shock that my once splitting headache is almost gone. Bees shouldn¡¯t be able to do that. Not once has a swarming hive ever flown with such coordination before. They flew in alignment in small groups while simultaneously circling around the queen, maintaining a unique shape and a set distance from each other. Impossible! I¡¯m left in a daze from that glorious display for longer than I¡¯d like to admit. The soft breeze, barely noticeable buzz of bees, and towering grass blades create an ambiance that simply left me gobsmacked. I could go the entire day like this. It¡¯s a good thing I didn¡¯t eat any salad for lunch, with the way salad passes through me, I might¡¯ve needed a change of clothes after that freefall. Like all good things, my quiet contemplation must come to an end. My rising horror at how strange my body feels and appears makes it impossible to enjoy this peace and quiet any longer. Looking down to the best of my stocky ¡°neck¡¯s¡± ability, it¡¯s apparent I¡¯m no longer human. Two insect legs with some type of claws greet me, outside of my sight I can feel four more legs beneath me and presumed wings on my back. It¡¯s a safe guess that I¡¯m now a bee. As delusional as I feel, this is my reality. I fell from what was obviously a hive. The quacking and tooting I heard at the beginning must¡¯ve been the emergence of a new, young queen. Which would undoubtedly cause the old queen to swarm and leave the nest with a majority of the bees. As for that crazy display of light and speed they accomplished. Welp, that¡¯s not my major concern. Right now, I¡¯m more concerned about my growing hunger. And seeing how unlike all six of my legs, which I was able to use naturally despite never having middle limbs before, I have no idea how to even flex my wings. Let alone beat them fast enough to achieve air time. Luckily it seems my new bee body accepts its reality a lot faster than I should''ve. New major changes typically take me at least three days of being upset before I move on and get over it. Since I¡¯m a bee, that means I eat honey. The only honey I know of is with the long disappeared queen and with the original hive. Who knows how far up the hive is, but it shouldn¡¯t be too far up. Hopefully, it¡¯s only a few feet since while I did fall for a few seconds, bees are a lot lighter so maybe I just fell slowly. Now let¡¯s take some baby steps and try to start fapping my wings. Hrrmph. Heeeerah. Hah. Nope. Nothing. I couldn¡¯t even twitch these damn wings, let alone flap them. Honestly, this is pretty stupid. How does a bee¡ªa flying insect¡ªnot know how to fly? If anything this should be so hard-coded into this body that I shouldn¡¯t even need to think about it. Maybe that¡¯s the problem. I¡¯m thinking too much about it. Before I can meditate and achieve the dao of the bee, a lone buzzing sound approaches me from above. It seems my missing presence has been noticed. I hope they brought some honey for me. All this shock and exertion has me hungrier than a ghost. I bet honey tastes amazing as a bee. Chapter 2: Beewitched I¡¯ve never taken enough notice of my bees to see any of them dance. But now that I¡¯ve seen them dance, I have to say I¡¯d watch it on tv. Not because they¡¯re good dancers or anything. Simply because seeing a bee dance is such a novel sight, especially when said bee is around the same size as you. Their insect appearance is not as terrifying as I would¡¯ve initially thought. With the energy they put into their acrobatics, it¡¯s difficult to see them as anything but a cute bee. Well, as cute as bees can get. Their furry bodies definitely help them become more aesthetic to my human mindset. Soon, the dance comes to an end. The figure eights end suddenly and the lone worker looks at me with exasperation as if saying Hurry up back to the hive, you useless drone! Hurtful words, but I can¡¯t help but be relieved that despite the changes I¡¯ve gone through at least one thing remains the same. I¡¯m useless. In fact, I used to really dislike drones. They¡¯re a waste of space and resources, not only do they contribute nothing to the hive but they also elicit worker bees to feed them early on. They can¡¯t even put in the effort to feed themselves. Plus with no stinger, if the hive is attacked there¡¯s not much they can do besides buzz around an intruder and distract them. The distaste I had for drones went so far, at one point I¡¯d purposefully remove drone broods from my hive if I saw them. Later on I stopped caring since regardless, my little ladies would produce a metric ton of honey every year. Wait, did I actually understand what she was trying to convey? My perpetual silence is met with a huff of displeasure and she flies off with little fanfare this time. Please don¡¯t go! I promise I won¡¯t be a burden. Actually I take that back, please feed me! My mental shouts and heavy breathing bring me no response from the worker. Damn, now I need to add communication to the list.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Within seconds, she¡¯s out of sight and all I can do is wish she was still here dancing. Hmmm let¡¯s go over my options. I currently can¡¯t fly, I can¡¯t talk, but I can crawl. Crawling wouldn¡¯t be my preferred option, not like I have a choice though. The longer I¡¯m outside the hive, the less safe I become. The last thing I need is some bird or insect deciding I¡¯m its next meal. The problem is distance. I can¡¯t really tell how far away anything is. Normally, I would use my height as a measurement. But with me being a miniscule fraction of my original almost six feet, I haven¡¯t the slightest idea. The grass alone is taller than my house in comparison to my current height, let alone the half dead tree the hive is located in. What I should¡¯ve been able to cross in two steps now looks like a mile long walk. All I can do is start trucking I guess, hopefully bees can¡¯t get leg cramps. Thank goodness the grass is fairly sparse so I can just weave in between the stalks while staying on the moist dirt. If the grass was more densely populated then I¡¯d probably have to jump from blade to blade. While it would help my coordination in the long run, I¡¯m already nearing my mental limits and some parkour won¡¯t help with that. Besides mental fatigue, it seems my new body doesn¡¯t mind walking nonstop so much. This almost relaxing walk with huge blades of grass around me isn¡¯t so bad. I wouldn¡¯t mind more giant greenery in my daily life. Not a fan of giant insects though. I¡¯m especially not a fan when I come across a dense line of ants. Each one of these ants are almost similar in length to me. I¡¯ve seen what a group of ants could do to crabs, I¡¯d hate to have to experience firsthand their hospitality and hunger. Adding a detour to my journey isn¡¯t that big of a deal because with how close I am to the hive¡¯s tree, it¡¯s not like I can get lost. Eventually all journeys come to an end, and I reach the tree trunk. I don¡¯t have the slightest clue what type of tree it is. I was never that interested in being able to identify trees by its bark. Not that it matters what type of tree it is I suppose, but it would¡¯ve been nice to at least be able to make a guess about how tall it might be based on its species. Now for the hardest part, the vertical climb. Even with three pairs of limbs and claws on them, I still don¡¯t like my chances. Anyway, enough procrastination, let¡¯s just get this started. Place one leg in front of the other, grab on with my claws, and pull myself further up. Rinse, wash, and repeat until exhaustion. What would¡¯ve been a minute worth of flying, now feels like hours worth of climbing. Luckily, the bark doesn¡¯t change in quality too much and it stays easy to latch onto. And so I keep climbing, and climbing, and climbing. Until exhaustion has me thinking my legs will fall off. My hunger pangs ever increasing in intensity. One leg in front of the other. Over and over again. Finally, after what could only be hours as the sun is starting to set. Turning the once sunny forest into an increasingly dark and menacing woods. Suddenly the light hum of bees¡¯ wings flapping soon becomes the only thing I can hear as it intensifies in volume when I draw nearer. I can¡¯t wait to find one of the nursery worker bees and get her to feed me. Food and shelter here I come! The pampered lifestyle of a drone is going to be the best¡­ even if it only lasts a few months. Might as well make the most of my short lifespan. On the bright side, I may be able to steal some royal jelly, I¡¯ve always wondered what that would taste like. Chapter 3: Please Beehive Yourself The hive¡¯s entrance is a lot wider than what I would consider to be wise. The amount of heat they¡¯d lose during winter with this large entrance could very well doom the hive. Of course, it¡¯s possible that there¡¯s mild winters wherever this is. So bees freezing to death from exposure isn¡¯t a concern. There¡¯s always something heartbreaking when in the dead of winter, you see a line of bee corpses from your beehive leading out as they tried to use the bathroom outside the hive and subsequently froze to death. Surprisingly, there¡¯s a large amount of activity around the hive¡¯s entrance. The swarming that happened only hours ago, despite halving the hive¡¯s population at least, seemingly hasn¡¯t affected their work ethic. Or maybe since it¡¯s about to be night time they¡¯re all just coming back to the hive now. I slowly crawl¡ªwhile praying my aching body doesn¡¯t give up and let go of the tree¡¯s bark¡ªinto the hive, trying to act as normal as I can so I can blend in. Which is a needless worry since I undoubtedly do blend in. I am after all a bee of this hive. Even if I do stick out like a sore thumb, it¡¯s not like they will care. These workers have work to do and a weird drone bee not flying won¡¯t stop them. Pushing myself deeper and deeper into the hive, past multiple capped or empty combs, I eventually reach a location with the most activity. My hope is to find some open combs currently being filled with nectar. Then I can take a few sips and gain some energy back. As I continue to bump shoulders past the dense groups of workers, gently placing my legs on the edges of the combs, I find myself walking towards the densest pile of bees in the hive. As if I was drawn here with little choice on my end. If I had to guess, I¡¯d say some pheromones manipulated my decision process. Before I can start to feel paranoid, I¡¯m soon making eye contact with a freshly hatched queen. Or as close to eye contact as possible in this dim and near dark hive. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. The workers quickly hobble off the queen as if they received an unspoken order, moving at a speed unseen in any of the workers in the rest of the hive. A path opened up amongst the bees between the queen and me. Something is wrong, I can feel it. I¡¯m suddenly reminded of the strange formation the bees that swarmed were in. There¡¯s definitely a way for the queen to control the bees. Whatever is happening now just proves that queens are no longer a tool that the workers center themselves around. Queens are tools amongst bees without a doubt. Afterall, the workers decide when the queen swarms by chasing her around long enough until she loses enough weight to be able to fly again. It¡¯s a brutal way of getting someone in shape, especially when it¡¯s your supposed queen. I try to back up away from the queen, what powers she has over the bees, I certainly don¡¯t want to experience it firsthand. Unfortunately, by my second step I¡¯ve bumped into another bee and it¡¯s only now that I notice all the bees¡¯ reflective eyes are staring in my direction. Welp, it was a good first day and just when I was looking forward to trying out nectar and honey as a bee. Continuing my staredown with the queen, a sharp force suddenly hits my mind like a sledgehammer causing my faded headache to reignite with a jolt while my body is suddenly being wrecked with countless phantom pains. A distorted voice makes itself known as I crumple over in agony, my wings finally making themselves known as they twitch rapidly. How can you use qi!? Huh, qi? Without warning, the pain and the feminine voice disappear, leaving me breathless with only the fresh memories of my agony to keep me company. That¡¯s when I noticed it. I¡¯m glowing! The hive has no light sources, there¡¯s nothing to reflect off the workers¡¯ eyes. The light source is me, my damn abdomen is glowing! Looking closer at the workers¡¯ eyes I notice a strange reflection composed of multiple geometric shapes, all inside of a circle. How? Why? The image sparks no familiarity within me, this is the first time I¡¯m observing something so abstract like this, especially inside of nature. If I can be considered a part of nature. Unless¡­ Dr. Avem, his damn notebook had the same drawing. All I got was a glance but the more I look, the more familiar it gets. Who would¡¯ve thought staying in contact with one of my professors would lead to this. Before I could start cursing Dr. Avem with infertility and end his bloodline, the workers go back to their whatever it is they do, the queen is soon engulfed once more, and a lone worker approaches me. Without hesitation, I know what she wants. I extend my proboscis and consume the droplet of honey the nursery worker discharges from her stomach. Disturbing and Delicious! My now rejuvenated body decides there¡¯s only one thing left to do, sleep. Chapter 4: To Bee There¡¯s something amazing about sleeping for an unknown amount of time when you have nothing to really worry about. I mean, yeah sure I¡¯ve lost my body, my house that only had 13 years left on the mortgage, my very productive beehive, and everyone I cared about but at least I don¡¯t need to worry about working any more. Not that I didn¡¯t like my job, it was fairly simple work that paid well enough. Sometimes it did feel like my degree was going to waste by repeating the same tasks forty hours every week that someone could replicate within three months of decent on the job training with less education. But I¡¯m not going to complain about my work not being challenging enough. Despite not knowing exactly how much time is passing, since I¡¯m in a dark hive constantly¡ªdark besides my glowing abdomen of course¡ªI do know that I don¡¯t stay asleep for long periods of time. Maybe five hours at a maximum. If blame needs to be given, then my dreams of giant bee legs stabbing through my soft body would be my best guess. Or it¡¯s the actual bee legs jostling me awake from my slumber. Luckily five hours seems to be just enough sleep as I haven¡¯t experienced much drowsiness besides my first night. Speaking of night, I¡¯ve always wondered why forager bees don¡¯t work in shifts. So the day shift would go out foraging, they¡¯d come back as the sun sets, and then the night shift heads out. They¡¯d all still have time to sleep, but now there would be constant nectar collection throughout the day. After all, flowers produce nectar at night. From a beekeeper¡¯s perspective, however, it would become difficult to transport colonies since they all won¡¯t be in the hive at night. But 24/7 nectar collection seems much more efficient. It¡¯s possible that the low temperatures at night in certain areas and seasons would prevent that though. Maybe that habit just never evolved because there are so few areas where it would work. During these past three days since I first arrived, I have yet to spot a single drone. All of them are worker bees, but it¡¯s without a doubt strange for me to be the only drone. Now that doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯ve spent much time looking around the hive and examining every bee I¡¯ve seen. But still, I should¡¯ve at least come across another drone at some point, whether that¡¯s near the queen or otherwise. I even began looking around the brood combs, but even among the few brood combs I¡¯ve come across, there¡¯s only been the worker brood combs. Whereas there hasn¡¯t been a single slightly larger drone brood comb. I can¡¯t even begin to imagine why there¡¯s such a lack of drones. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. Drones aren¡¯t popular by any means, though there should still be a few buzzing around, especially during swarming season. As much as I would like to continue my bloodline, seeing as I¡¯m only a bee now, I don¡¯t really care about continuing it anymore. Besides drones that breed with a queen die shortly after. That¡¯d take my normal short lifespan and turn it into something even shorter. Hopefully there are drones from other hives in the area ready to go at it with this hive¡¯s queen. Otherwise, there¡¯s a real possibility that I may be the only one who can mate with the queen and I¡¯d hate to have to deal with the mental anguish that comes with her invading my mind. If I¡¯m the only drone she has the ability to mate with then it explains why she would be so concerned with my glowing body parts. It¡¯s possible that any characteristics that I may have will end up going towards the future generations of this hive. My ability to glow must be the qi that the queen was talking about. After all, the old queen also glowed when her formation of bees gained a random speed boost so it would explain why the young queen knows about it even if she can¡¯t use it herself. What if my unknowing use of qi to glow could go to all my offspring? What if the queen wants all her children to glow? As stupid as glowing bees sounds, the old queen clearly must¡¯ve been using qi and that speed boost is as good a benefit as glowing in the dark is a detriment. That means my especially early demise is all but guaranteed if the young queen wants more qi using bees! My only option is to escape. While I won¡¯t be able to enjoy that delectable honey ever again, I¡¯ll at least still be able to get nectar. I¡¯ll even be able to just forage for nectar at night just in case the queen sends any search parties after me. Problem is, how will I escape? Flying is the best option and while I have been able to twitch and flap my wings a bit, I¡¯m simply unable to flap them enough times a second. I¡¯m too unused to a part of my body moving at the speeds necessary in order for me to accomplish flight easily. Walking away would have me caught in no time since I¡¯d be a slow moving, glowing target. Plus all that glowing on the forest floor may attract predators and it¡¯d be easy peasy to kill a lone bee with no stinger. All I can do is keep trying to learn how to fly. At the rate I¡¯m going, I might not even be able to get off the ground before the queen is ready to mate. To my knowledge, at least five days is needed before she becomes capable of being sexually active and since she was born around the same time I got here, that leaves only two days to learn how to fly. No pain, no gain as they say. Since trying to safely learn how to fly in the beehive won¡¯t cut it then I need to push my limits. The next logical step is to jump out the hive and flap my wings as I plummet towards a soft landing in the tall grass. With a concrete goal in mind, I walk from the most remote corner of the hive and make my way towards the bright entrance while test flapping my wings as a warm up. Crawling to a stop by the edge, I look over the sheer drop and steel my resolve. Taking a few steps back, I rush forward and take towards the skies. Until gravity kicks in and my plummet begins despite my best efforts to prevent it. Rather than my wing flapping delaying my fall, it only takes me further and further away from the hive as it increases my forward momentum. Just great. Crashing into what I can only assume is a ginger¡¯s flower, my fall is broken as the flower sways. I never thought I¡¯d regret not being able to blink. As cowardly as it sounds, I wished for nothing more than to be able to close my eyes at that moment. Looking back towards the hive, it¡¯s clear I¡¯ve fallen over twice the hive¡¯s height. My only option if I want to sleep in safety and fill my stomach with honey before my great escape is to fly back. Sadly, I just proved I still can¡¯t fly even while already in the air. Not eating much so I wouldn¡¯t be weighed down for my first flight was the wrong choice. All I can do is try to fly back before nightfall. Chapter 5: Or Not to Bee It¡¯s almost hypnotic listening to the steadily growing buzz of your wings trying to lift you off the ground. Practice does make perfect. According to Malcolm Gladwell¡¯s 10,000 hour rule, I¡¯ll need to put another 9,974 hours into trying to fly before I master it. Even this small amount of practice has greatly improved my ability. Compared to yesterday when I could only flap my wings 1-2 times a second, I¡¯ve reached at least a few dozen times per second now. Which still isn¡¯t enough to lift me off the ground, but it certainly feels like I¡¯m getting close to actually getting off the ground. Learning how to fly as a bee has caused the opening line from that weird movie to constantly go through my mind. Something about how bees shouldn¡¯t be able to fly because of the known laws of physics or whatever. However, at the time that observation was made, they didn¡¯t know how bees even flew. Rather than flapping their wings up and down, bees flap their wings front to back. This doesn¡¯t make that much sense initially but I¡¯m no physicist so I¡¯m choosing to not put too much thought into it. The smell of ginger flowers is extremely overpowering and I happened to be unlucky enough to land on one. It¡¯s the only thing I¡¯ve been able to smell for the past two hours. At first it was difficult to concentrate on flying while my sense of smell was being assaulted, but it turned out to be a hidden boon. By focusing on the smell rather than my wings, I¡¯ve been able to greatly increase my wing flapping speed in my short two hours of practice today. Without my mind micromanaging my wings¡¯ movements, my body is able to get closer to doing what it¡¯s supposed to be able to do. Which is fly. Continuing my practice, I soon zone out. There¡¯s something so peaceful about the forest in the early morning during spring. The insects are just starting to come out and so birds and other small creatures are starting to feed on them. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. In a way, it¡¯s relaxing watching the cycle of life in action. Small insects feed off flowers¡¯ nectar and then a gray and brown shrike comes sweeping down and gobbles them up. Poor beetle, it didn¡¯t even see death coming. Watching the small bird go here and there attacking small creatures with a passion and unmistakable skill is always impressive. I have no choice but to give it a name as a sign of respect to its deadliness. Gray Blur. A fitting name since its dark color scheme hides it well in the canopy of the trees. Soon the shrike comes to a stop, perching on some type of thorny bush. Glancing about lazily, Gray Blur, in their majesty, preens their feathers. It¡¯s clear they consider nothing here a threat as shrikes are typically social birds and yet this one is all alone. Once done, I soon find myself making eye contact with the bird. Once again, the fear of God fills my entire being. My trance is broken and I find myself actually hovering! Before I can rejoice at my hard work paying off, Gray Blur takes off into the air zooming towards me. I should¡¯ve realized I¡¯d be on the menu today. But now that I¡¯ve figured out how to fly, it¡¯s time to run away. Maneuvering away from the ginger flower, I¡¯m unable to keep my movement while flying consistent. Ramming into some of the taller grasses, I almost feel like a yoyo going up and down but without any sort of rhythm. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if my flying resembles what a drunk be would do. No matter how hard I try though, I can never shake off Gray Blur. As if on a gentle stroll it toys with me. Barely missing me as it tries to impale my body, I go tumbling into the dirt. My landing despite the short height was much harsher than my previous falls. My wings feel like they might not be able to take another beating like that. It¡¯d be really unfortunate if they were to get ripped. Still two thirds of my original distance from the hive, I¡¯ll never be able to make it with the shrike on my tail. Swooping around, the shrike starts making a dive towards me. I lift myself off the ground and fly straight ahead underneath the foliage of a vine on the nearest tree. When outmatched by your opponent, hide and wait for an opportunity to run away. Trembling in fear, I¡¯ve never held so much hatred towards my glowing body. Chapter 6: Honey, Im Home Traveling up the vine, while staying out of sight from Gray Blur. It keeps trying to turn me into a mid-afternoon snack regardless. While I¡¯m small enough to stay hidden beneath the leaves, it does me little good when Gray Blur can just stick its head underneath the leaves and peck at me. The green, spade shaped leaves don¡¯t exactly help me blend in, though I still wouldn¡¯t be able to blend in when I¡¯m glowing. However, I soon entered a stalemate with the shrike. As I¡¯m spotted, I travel further up the vine where the bigger leaves provide more surface area for me to hide under and slowly start to slow down Gray Blur more and more as the cumbersome leaves become more difficult to move. With plenty of cover, it¡¯s not too difficult to avoid death. I hide beneath a vine leaf, Gray Blur tries to move the leaf and bite me, and then I move to a higher position under a bigger leaf as Gray Blur moves from under the leaf to give chase. Eventually, Gray Blur will get bored and then leave me alone for easier prey. That¡¯s the smart thing to do, besides it already had a good meal with all those creatures it ate earlier in the day. Sadly, nothing is ever as easy as it should be. Seeing Gray Blur¡¯s head peek under the leaf, it doesn¡¯t immediately go under the leaf to peck at me. Thinking this is my lucky break, I stay in place under the leaf as surely Gray Blur has given up. However, a building glow that soon becomes strong enough to show the leaf¡¯s once hidden veins fills me with unease. Quickly flying from underneath the leaf, I¡¯m lucky enough to see Gray Blur¡¯s glowing claw swoop through the air, creating a sharp hiss as it tears the leaf into shreds and digs past the vine¡¯s stem, gouging out a grove shaped like its tiny claws into the tree¡¯s bark. strong enough to leave claw marks in steel! Dr. Avem¡¯s letter flashes through my mind. If big animals are able to mutilate steel then it makes sense even for this tiny bird to destroy wood. This isn¡¯t looking too good for me. A cold shiver runs through me and once again I find myself staring Gray Blur in the eyes. The sneer Gray Blur seems to naturally possess, pushes me to restart my quest to stay hidden. But it all seems so pointless if Gray Blur can just demolish my hiding spot and me in it at the same time.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Before I can even reach the next leaf, Gray Blur¡¯s still shining claw tears through the air towards me. Trying my best to avoid it, I fly away from the tree and the air pressure of its claws help push me out of harm¡¯s way. Still continuing with its attack, Gray Blur quickly mutilates most of the surrounding leaves on the vine with a few quick swipes. Stuck hovering away from the tree with no more leafy shelters intact, it seems this must¡¯ve been that damn bird¡¯s plan all along. To leave me stranded with no protection. Giving up, I continue to hover in place while praying for a clean death. It¡¯s obvious there¡¯s no escape. Sensing my intentions, Gray Blur triumphantly flaps their wings towards me. The glow of its claws start fading and its leisurely elegance is once again back in full swing. Within a few seconds, Gray Blur¡¯s beek is inches away, ready to chomp me to bits. The joy in its eyes are impossible to hide, but it quickly turns to shock as an even bigger predatory bird¡¯s claws pierces through its body in record speed. Gray Blur¡¯s blood splatters as their lifeless body is dragged high up into the sky past the canopy. I make a silent prayer for the beauty that is the cycle of life. Exhaustion fills my body as whatever kept me going while my life was in danger is drained away. As much as I wish to immediately head back to the hive for safety and food. My body is greatly craving something to quench my thirst. The small amounts of tree sap leaking from the tree¡¯s damaged bark calls out to my tired body. Landing on the groves Gray Blur so kindly dug out, I quickly drank the available sap. Thank goodness I¡¯m small so this miniscule amount is more than enough to quench my thirst and growing hunger. I¡¯ve always wanted to feed the bees from my apiary maple sap. Usually the flavor of honey is heavily affected by the flowers that the forager bees gather nectar from. So I figured that bees that primarily store maple sap would produce a honey with hints of maple. Unfortunately, I could never truly test it as there are no maples in my area that I could tap for sap. It¡¯s not like you can just buy maple sap either to my knowledge since it¡¯s always turned into syrup or used in another product. With a filled stomach and bird free environment, I make my way back to the hive which was never that far to begin with. Making my way to the still abnormally large entrance, I land on the entrance¡¯s edge and stare out away from the hive. With a greater appreciation towards being able to stay hidden, I have a lot less complaints about the hive¡¯s entrance. The hive is in an extremely obscured position with the limbs of the tree it¡¯s located in as well as nearby trees¡¯ limbs covering up the hive. It¡¯s almost impossible to notice as the entrance¡¯s shape almost looks like it isn¡¯t an entrance with how similarly shaped it is to the nearby branches. Even with me knowing its location, I still wasn¡¯t able to pinpoint the entrance until I had moved past the low hanging, drooping branches. Suddenly the light hum of the bees¡¯ buzzing wings stops spontaneously. Stomach twisting, I quickly turn around and am once again greeted with the sight of the worker bees staring at me. My presence that is usually never acknowledged is suddenly the highlight of the hive. The sea of bees parts and reveals the now fully matured, young queen. ¡°Ah there you are, it¡¯s good to see that you¡¯re ready to go on our mating flight.¡± I quickly take back my prayer towards the cycle of life, it¡¯s unkind intentions once again rear its ugly head. All I can do is question reality, how did she mature so quickly? Chapter 7: Pollen in Love After a drone bee mates, it quickly dies as its abdomen is ripped open when its endophallus is removed. What a gruesome way to die. I¡¯ve met plenty of people who¡¯d do anything to get some. But even for them, they¡¯re probably not desperate enough to still do it when death is guaranteed. During a mating flight, a queen will mate with a dozen or more drones and with all of them dropping dead shortly after, the path of her flight leaves a visible mark on the earth. It¡¯s quite an impressive power move when you think about it. Sadly for this queen, she¡¯s going to need to find some other drones and remove their endophallus because mine isn¡¯t for sale! Flying off with no warning, I speed away from the hive. Zipping between foliage and branches, I realize how much faster I¡¯m flying compared to when I was running away from Gray Blur. My speed has more than doubled, there¡¯s no way I¡¯ll be caught now. With an endless supply of courage, I fly higher than ever before as I start zooming towards the canopy. I¡¯ll get out of sight and then I¡¯m off to roam the world as a vagrant drone. Who knows, maybe I¡¯ll be able to find another hive and waltz right in and take some honey and leave while they¡¯re none the wiser. My daydreams of living life as a honey bandit distract me long enough to not notice just how much brighter my abdomen is glowing. In fact I didn¡¯t notice how my once dim glow became bright enough to start casting shadows of nearby branches until a peal of laughter sounded in my mind. The queen overtakes me immediately after, generating enough air pressure to cause my tiny body to spiral in the air. Disoriented, I crash into the now hovering queen causing us to plummet. Vigourous flaps of her wings stabilize our trajectory, without even being able to contemplate how or why I grabbed onto the queen, pulses of a burning pain, strong enough to incapacitate me, erupt from my abdomen. Finally, I notice how my abdomen is now like a tiny lightbulb. My burning abdomen sends my mind into a haze, leaving me without enough strength to even remove myself from the queen. The glowing, geometric shapes on my abdomen start crushing inwards, removing most of the air inside me. It seems even my body doesn¡¯t want me to survive. Despite my stubborn will, my body continues to disobey and begins mating with the queen. The initial satisfaction that filled my body as I mate with the queen is soon turned into misery. Wave after wave of fatigue fills my body repeatedly as the insatiable queen won¡¯t let me die until her oviducts are filled. The job of at least a dozen drones is placed solely upon me.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. My once sun-like abdomen quickly dims from the queen¡¯s abuse. The queen¡¯s unforgiving grip doesn¡¯t ease up until my abdomen dims to the point the geometric shapes are no longer visible. Along with the death of the only visible thing unique about me, soon my death comes too. Crashing into the ground, the last thing I see is the uncaring queen returning in the hive¡¯s direction. My body¡¯s goal has been completed and control is returned to me once more. Except, there¡¯s nothing left to control. Completely depleted of strength and energy, all I can do is stare up at the sky as I die like a bug under the sun¡¯s intense heat. It¡¯s possible my crazy drive to learn how to fly wasn¡¯t completely a decision of my own. I never thought about it before, but if I can¡¯t fly then I can¡¯t mate. In that case I could¡¯ve just stayed in the hive and been fed by nursery workers until they kicked me out in the Autumn. The disappearance of the source of my abdomen¡¯s glow seems to have cleared up my mind. All I can think about is how rigged this was. My actions were almost never completely my own. From learning how to fly to seemingly accepting a premature death at the hands of Gray Blur before being saved by a predatory bird¡¯s actions. Originally I thought my quest to fly was fueled by my boyhood dream of flying, but with how worried I was about mating with the queen, I could¡¯ve just stayed in the hive until she had mated with other drones. Then I could learn how to fly. After all, we can¡¯t mate if I can¡¯t fly. Guaranteed survival. Then there¡¯s my acceptance of Gray Blur eating me. Even if I accepted my death, I wouldn¡¯t have just stood there. I would¡¯ve instead still tried to get away no matter how futile my struggle would have been. Even if I didn¡¯t choose to continue to flee, I¡¯d still try to do as much harm on Gray Blur as possible. I could always try to ram myself into their eyes in an attempt to blind them. But to just stand there and accept my fate? Very unlikely. As I continue examining all my choices during the short few days I¡¯ve been a bee, I¡¯m suddenly aware of how I still haven¡¯t died. Using my legs to the best of my ability to feel my abdomen, I finally notice that I¡¯m fully intact. There isn¡¯t a single injury on me! The only evidence of my near death is my heavily fatigued body. Slowly getting up, I¡¯m filled with relief at my continued existence. Split between continuing with my plan of running away or going back to the hive to eat and rest, I have no choice but to head back to the hive. I don¡¯t have the energy to run away any time soon. I also desperately need some food. Flying back to the hive with a similar speed as my mating flight, it seems despite the disappearance of my glow, the speed boost is permanent. Returning to the hive, the hero¡¯s welcome I secretly anticipated doesn¡¯t happen. The workers continue their day with the same indifference they usually have towards me. Welp, my survival is the most important. Crawling through the hive¡¯s interior is even more difficult without my slight glow. Taking longer than normal, I finally reach the part of the hive with the highest number of nursery bees. A nursery worker seemingly notices my fatigue and quickly begins feeding me. My exhaustion is eased a bit and I make my way to a remote spot to sleep. You know, this place isn¡¯t so bad. Chapter 8: Honeymoon There isn¡¯t much to do in a hive. Besides eating and sleeping, most of my day is spent outside the hive. Maybe I would spend more time in the hive if I could communicate with the workers, even the queen. But with no way for me to accomplish that, all I can do is go out exploring. First I explored the area around the hive. There wasn¡¯t much to see, just trees, flowers, birds, insects, vines, and dirt. Probably about half a mile west there is a small, stagnant pond. I avoided getting too close to it as I¡¯m sure there¡¯s plenty of things willing to snack on me there. It wasn¡¯t until I flew above the canopy did I get a good view of what¡¯s around the hive. North, the direction the hive is facing, in a couple of miles starts turning mountainous with tree covered hills and mountains reaching towards the clouds. Strangely despite all indications that it¡¯s spring, I spot multiple trees that don¡¯t have green leaves. They increase in concentration the higher up you look on the mountain, giving it a beautiful appearance as large trees of reds, greens, blues, yellows, and some whites and blacks color its landscape. Despite the lack of oddly colored trees near the hive, I can¡¯t help but worry if their strange color will be a potential problem. Of course, that¡¯s neither here nor there. Slightly west of the mountains are the beginnings of a river that curves further west and then straightens out as it starts flowing mostly south. East of the hive, the forest continues seemingly endlessly. There are odd colored trees further east but not anywhere near the concentration seen on the hills and mountains towards the north.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. South of the hive is where the treeline starts thinning out. Eventually it turns into grassland with plenty of wild flowers growing. The lack of trees in that direction allows me to see even further with more clarity compared to the other directions. However, unlike the other directions that don¡¯t have even the slightest sign of human activity, there¡¯s only what I can describe as a vague silhouette of an old timey wagon caravan heading northeast along the river. Shocked by my finding, I can¡¯t help but fly in circles out of excitement. I¡¯ll finally have some human contact, I might even be able to talk to them and see if they can solve my whole being a bee problem. My excitement quickly dies as I realize that I¡¯m still a bee. I can¡¯t even communicate with the other bees in my hive, despite the queen naturally being able to do so, let alone communicate with someone multiple times my size. They might even just stomp on me out of annoyance. Filled with indecision, I decide to simply check the people out and see what I can glean from them. It¡¯d be especially useful if they speak English, but judging by how they¡¯re using covered wagons, I might be in some remote part of the world. Nothing ventured, nothing gained as they say. Besides I don¡¯t want to assume the worst, you know what they say about assuming after all. Maybe they¡¯re just the type of people who like to relive the old days and those weird trees are painted. Flying south, out of the forest, after about half an hour to an hour of flight I reach the point where they¡¯re setting up camp by the river. With the setting sun it¡¯s difficult to make out their image clearly. I¡¯m going to need to get a closer look to see better and hopefully hear what they¡¯re talking about. Coming closer to the wagon encirclement I soon cross paths with an absolutely massive man with a sword almost as wide as he is with biceps bigger than an average man¡¯s thighs. It¡¯s clear he doesn¡¯t skip the gym. What caused me to be gobsmacked though, was not his muscular appearance but his dark green skin!