A Bee Unlike Any Other

Pally and Merwinn, thrilled at the thought of a new adventure, headed south of the village toward the great forest of Sleepinwood. The ten o'clock sun bathed the woods in a soft, golden light, warming the crisp morning air just enough to take the edge off. The freshly fallen snow glittered beneath the sun's rays. As they pressed on, the light played through the branches overhead, weaving an enchanting dance of light and shadow across the snowy ground. Tiny rodent tracks threaded the pristine snow, quiet testimony to the secret life that stirred in this peaceful forest. Now and then a curious squirrel appeared, studying the two adventurers for a moment before vanishing into the high branches.

Pally and Merwinn marched on eagerly, their wooden swords strapped across their backs, ready to face whatever adventures the forest might have in store. Their steps crunched in the snow beneath their boots, and they exchanged knowing smiles, excited by the mission Braum had entrusted to them.

"Look, Merwinn," said Pally, pointing at a row of small footprints in the snow. "That must be a rabbit."

Merwinn nodded, his eyes shining with excitement. "This is just the best! I'd love to have a little pet I could tuck into my pocket and have follow me everywhere."
"And what would you call it?" asked Pally.
"Moshi!" Merwinn shot back.
"Moshi? What does that even mean?"
"No idea, I just think it sounds cute, haha!"
"Moshi? That name just makes me hungry…" Pally replied, clutching his grumbling belly.
"Hey, Moshi's not for eating!" Merwinn exclaimed.
"Moshiiiiiii I'm starving!!!!" said Pally, all in good humor.
The children giggled.

"We can try to catch one when the chance comes along," Pally said. "In the meantime, let's find that honey for the RUMP STEAKS OF DELIGHT!" Stars lit up in their eyes again at the mere mention of those delicious rump steaks.

Merwinn, gathering his wits, asked, "You have any idea where we should look?"
Pally nodded with assurance. "Last time I came here, I saw a bunch of bees heading toward a spot behind the stream, a few kilometers off. We should start there."

So the two children walked on, following the soothing sound of the stream, their footsteps falling in time with the soft murmur of the water.

They finally came to a place where the stream broadened slightly, and noticed a dried-out tree trunk lying across the water, forming a natural bridge. The log, likely shifted there by floods or strong winds, made a perfect walkway to cross without getting their feet wet.

"Look, Merwinn, we can cross here," said Pally, pointing at the trunk. "Careful not to slip."
Merwinn nodded and followed Pally, climbing carefully onto the log. Balance was everything, for the wood—though sturdy—was slick in places beneath a thin sheen of ice. The two boys inched forward, arms outstretched to keep themselves steady.

The sound of water rushing beneath them lent a note of adventure to the crossing. Pally and Merwinn, swept up in the thrill of it, felt as though they were braving some tremendous danger. Their hearts pounded as they balanced on the trunk, feeling like true explorers for whom the slightest misstep would mean certain death.
"Careful not to fall into the lava, Merwinn!" cried Pally, his eyes gleaming. "It'd kill you on the spot!"
"Yes!" Merwinn answered, his hands trembling faintly with excitement as he got a little too caught up in his runaway imagination. "I absolutely must not fall…" he muttered to himself.
Adrenaline surged through their veins as they crossed the stream. Their boundless imaginations turned this simple passage into a heroic epic, where every sound of the water became molten magma to their ears, and every glint of light added to the magic of their quest.

Once on the other side, they leapt down onto the snowy ground, proud of their feat.
"Well done, Sir Merwinn," said Pally with a smile, holding out one hand to his friend and gesturing with the other toward the next leg of their adventure. "We keep on this way. I'm sure the bees are coming from over there."
Merwinn smiled back, feeling more confident after the crossing, and took Pally's hand. "All right, I'm with you. Let's find that honey!"
They set off again, following the faint traces left by the bees they had glimpsed earlier.

After a few minutes of walking through the forest, they heard a humming sound. They were on the right track. They broke into a run toward the noise, and saw a great beautiful hive hanging from a low branch of a large snow-laden oak.

"Over there!" Pally whispered to Merwinn.

They quickly ducked behind a bush to watch the scene from a safe distance, out of reach of the bees. The hive was impressive—oval in shape, with a rough, golden texture that resembled papier-mâché, only far sturdier. The layers of wax that formed it rippled in harmonious patterns, a testament to the bees' incredible craftsmanship. It hung heavy beneath the branch, lightly dusted with snow that glittered in the sun.

"Magnificent!" whispered Pally.

Around the hive, a swarm of bees droned without pause. They came and went in a perfectly choreographed ballet, their transparent wings creating a soft thrum in the cold forest air. Their small black-and-yellow bodies moved with astonishing precision, slipping in and out of the hive through perfectly aligned little openings.

They stayed a while, captivated by the spectacle.
"But Pally, how are we going to get the honey? The bees are so many, they'll stop us," Merwinn fretted.
"Hmmm…" Pally thought. "HA! I've got it!" he answered with a sly little smile.

Pally asked Merwinn to station himself at a spot where he'd be clearly visible to the bees, and above all not to move.
"Go over there, Merwinn. Right in front of that trunk, and whatever you do, don't move," Pally murmured, pointing to a clearing.
Merwinn, a bit puzzled, nodded. "All right, but what are you planning to do?"
"Trust me," Pally replied with a wink.
Merwinn, still full of questions, went to stand where Pally had indicated. Meanwhile, Pally quietly began gathering pebbles as he crept closer to the bush. Once in position, he turned toward Merwinn with a mischievous grin.
"You ready?" he asked.
"Uhhh… ready for what?" Merwinn answered, a little naively.
"To run!" Pally shouted, hurling the pebbles at the hive.
Instantly, Pally dove into the bush while the bees, pouring out in a furious mass, identified Merwinn as the only possible culprit. Terrified, Merwinn took off running in a direction that led him away from Pally.

"YOU JEEEEERRRK!!!!" he cried, his voice fading as he sprinted farther away.

"Good luck, buddy!" Pally called out, watching the scene and laughing his head off.

"Right… now that things have quieted down, it's time to get that honey," Pally murmured to himself.

He pulled a jar from his pocket, climbed the tree, and reached his hand into the hive to scoop out the honey. But barely a second after his hand went in, he took a massive sting.

"OUCH!" he cried, losing his grip on the tree. He fell, eating several branches on the way down before slamming his head into the ground.
"aaaa…" groaned Pally. "Guess this is my karma…" he said, with a trace of agony.

Raising his head, he saw a bee—abnormally large, and… blue! He rolled backward, dropping the jar, and drew his wooden sword from his back as fast as he could, holding it out in front of him in case of attack.

His eyes, usually so full of mischief, had turned serious. He watched the huge bee as it began to drift slowly toward him, coming to settle the score.

The bee before Pally was of staggering size, at least half as big as the hive itself. Its massive body was a dark blue, almost nocturnal, striped with black bands that sharpened its menacing look. Its wings, translucent but strong, gave off a heavy, ominous sound.

The bee's eyes, deep and glossy black, seemed to watch Pally with an icy intelligence. Its thick antennae stood tall, reading every shift in the air. Its head tilted slightly forward, giving the impression it was readying itself to strike.
Its abdomen tapered into a fearsome stinger, as long as half of Pally's arm and disturbingly lustrous. The bee's legs, thick and coated with bristles, moved with a surprising agility for a creature its size.

The bee advanced slowly but surely toward Pally, every movement of its imposing body exuding an aura of imminent danger. The dark blue of its body seemed to drink in the surrounding light, adding to an atmosphere already heavy with tension.

The heavy, ominous sound of its wings rang through the air as it drew closer to Pally, like a deep, slow drum, weaving an oppressive mood all around him. Each wingbeat sent a tremor through the air, reinforcing the bee's intimidating presence.

Pally, his wooden sword raised in front of him, felt his heart hammering. He had never seen a bee of this size or color before, and he felt in his bones the danger this creature represented.

Pally took his stance, ready to parry the blue bee's attack. "Come on, then," he murmured, determined to defend himself against this unnatural creature.

The blue bee charged Pally, stinger thrust forward. Pally, muscles taut, managed to deflect the stinger with his wooden sword, though the blade had splintered a little under the force of the bee's ferocious slicing attack. Pally was stunned by the power behind the strike—the bee seemed to throw itself at him with such intensity, as if each blow were its dying breath. He fired back at once with a slashing strike, but the bee dodged with astonishing agility, continuing its course past him.

The bee paused, its antennae quivering as it took stock of the situation. Pally, his feet firmly planted, waited for the next assault, ready to react. Still, he couldn't help but worry about his wooden sword, which was already showing signs of splintering after the previous impact. He told himself he had to find a way to avoid too many direct blows, or his sword would shatter and he'd be left defenseless.

An idea came to him suddenly. He spun on his heel and started running in the opposite direction.

The blue bee, seeing its prey turn its back, charged again, stinger ready to strike. Pally sprinted toward the tree that held the hive. Just as the bee was about to drive its stinger into his back, he took a step, then two, onto the trunk of the tree, running until he was horizontal to the ground. With a feline agility, he sprang backward, flipping into a somersault midair.
The bee, carried forward by its own momentum, drove its stinger deep into the trunk and stuck fast. Pally, mid 180-degree rotation, struck with all his strength in a horizontal blow, his wooden sword meeting the bee's abdomen with a dull crack. The force of the blow hurled the bee against another tree, where it crashed heavily.
Pally came back down with grace, spinning through a pirouette that landed him on his two feet like a cat. He immediately resumed his combat stance, his gaze locked on the blue bee. It was staggering, visibly shaken by the blow, but still far from out of the fight.

"Ah, if only I had my real sword, this fight would already be over," Pally muttered, exasperated by the situation.

The bee, wounded as it was, dragged itself upright with difficulty, its wings beating frantically to steady itself. It let out a furious droning, its black eyes fixed on Pally with a glint of vengeance. The young boy knew he didn't have much time before it launched another assault.

Pally moved quickly to the side, searching for a favorable angle of attack. The bee lifted slightly, then plunged at him with disorienting speed. Pally dodged only just in time, feeling the wind of the stinger graze his shoulder. He countered with a flurry of swift blows, trying to throw the creature off balance.

The fight became a frenzied dance, each of Pally's movements a matter of life or death. He used his surroundings to his advantage, pushing off the trees to propel himself and strike with striking agility. The bee, massive as it was, showed a fearsome tenacity, answering with precise, rapid attacks.

Every wingbeat, every droning hum, echoed like a sinister countdown. Pally felt exhaustion starting to drag on his limbs, but he couldn't afford to slow. The bee, for its part, showed no sign of fatigue—its movements remained quick and precise, as if it felt nothing at all, neither pain nor weariness.

Pally found this strange and unsettling, wondering how a bee of this size could go on fighting with such vigor. "There's nothing natural about this," he told himself. But enough thinking! He had to find a way to neutralize the bee before it managed to reach him with that lethal stinger.

Pally couldn't see how he was going to put this tireless bee out of action. His sword wouldn't hold much longer, and fleeing was no use—it was far too fast. He told himself he would have to use the power that lived inside him, even though he couldn't control it and he had been strictly forbidden to use it, given the dangers it could pose to himself and those around him.

But he had no choice.

The bee attacked furiously, as if to finish it. Pally focused, closing his eyes and raising the palm of his hand toward the bee. At the last moment, he opened his eyes with determination, and flames burst from his hand in every direction, some of them reaching the bee. The creature writhed and crashed to the ground not far from Pally, the flames consuming it.

Pally felt burns across his hand that made him wince. He had no control over his flames, which spurted out wildly, setting the exposed grass around him alight. He hurried to stamp on every little flame on the ground.

Pally straightened up, still reeling from what had just happened. He forced himself to calm his breathing, feeling the adrenaline slowly ebb. The snow around him barely smoked. He sighed with relief that he hadn't started a wildfire.

He looked at his hand—it bore a few burns, but nothing alarming.
And yet a shiver ran through him as he thought back to the story Titis had told the night before, of the Delanar mages… What if…? What if somewhere, very far down in his blood, there ran something of a Delanar?

His gaze returned to the bee, which was still writhing until at last it stopped moving, leaving the flames to consume it entirely.

The smell of the charred bee was nauseating, bizarre, strange. Pally had never smelled anything like it.

As the bee—dead now—continued to burn, its size shrank. What had been a gigantic creature grew smaller and smaller, until it reached the size of an ordinary bee. At last it vanished beneath the flames, which finally died out entirely, leaving only a few ashes and a lingering smell in the air. Why had this bee gone from enormous to normal-sized? What had happened to it? Where had that startling strength come from?

"Aah, I'm asking too many questions!" Pally exclaimed aloud, weary of his own thoughts. "Let's get back to that honey!"

He picked up his jar, which fortunately hadn't cracked, and reaching into the hive he filled it with honey.

Pally heard Merwinn shouting in the distance. "PALLLY!!!" He couldn't see his friend yet, but he was glad to hear him approaching so he could tell him of his exploits. "Ah Merwinn, finally, there you are, I have to tell you abo…" he began.

Merwinn cut him off, bellowing, "PALLY RUUUUUN!"

Pally then saw Merwinn in a panic, being chased by the pile of bees he had riled up with his pebbles. Pally pulled a face, his eyes wide with terror. "GEEEEEEEEEEEEUUUUH!" he cried out before setting off at a run alongside Merwinn.

And so began a wild, breakneck chase. "DAMN IT MERWINN, YOU STILL HAVEN'T DEALT WITH THEM?!"
"WHAT DID YOU EXPECT ME TO DO? YOU THREW ME TO THE WOLVES WITHOUT WARNING, YOU JERK!" Merwinn shot back, yelling.

"AAAAAAAAH!" cried Pally, desperately searching for a solution. Running along the stream, he shouted to Merwinn, "THERE, INTO THE WATER!"

The two of them dove headfirst into the icy stream. The water closed around them instantly, stealing their breath. They hid beneath the surface, hearing the bees droning above, the sound muffled by the water but still unsettling.

Their surroundings turned suddenly oppressive, the sun's rays barely filtering through the surface as the bees thrashed the water into froth above. Frightened fish darted between the rocks, and bubbles of air escaped from their mouths, making their situation even more precarious.

Pally and Merwinn waited patiently under the water, but they were starting to run out of air. Panic swelled inside them, their lungs burning. The bees, it seemed, were quite willing to wait them out. Just as they were about to come up for air, Pally noticed two aquatic plants nearby. He tore them free and realized they had hollow stems.

"Here, take this!" he said, miming to Merwinn to use the plant like a straw.

They used the stems to breathe without having to lift their heads out of the water. The droning above still felt threatening, but knowing they could breathe helped them keep their heads.

As they waited, Merwinn glanced at Pally and saw that one of the flames from earlier had burned away part of his clothing, revealing a stretch of his bare backside. The sight was so unexpected and ridiculous that Merwinn could hardly contain his laughter, sending a cascade of bubbles around his reed.

"Whoaaa, what's with that face?" Pally thought, noticing Merwinn's expression as he fought desperately not to burst out laughing. Caught up in the same silent fit of giggles, Pally tried to hold back his own, but their efforts only produced another cascade of bubbles that drew yet more of the bees' attention.

The bees, their curiosity pricked, began landing on the reeds, investigating the mysterious droning and movement beneath the water. The situation grew more and more perilous—and also terribly funny.

That was when William appeared. Seeing two idiots in the water, blowing bubbles around their reeds with furious bees hovering above them, he couldn't help rolling his eyes in exasperation. Brandishing the flaming torch he had brought with him, he drove the bees away in a few quick swipes.

Pally and Merwinn, freed from their torment, burst out of the water coughing and spluttering, trying to clear their noses and ears. Soaked and worn out, but unharmed, they hauled themselves painfully upright.

"You two are truly impossible," William declared in a dry, serious tone.

"What are you doing here, William?" asked Pally, shivering to the bone as he tried to wring the water out of his shoe.

"Braum ordered me to help you with the honey," William answered, his eyes half-closed with weariness. "You forgot the torch for getting the honey out, village idiots." He tossed the burning torch onto the ground with an exasperated precision. "It's done. I'll leave you to it now," he added, before turning on his heel and walking off without another word.

"Pally, did you manage to get the honey?" asked Merwinn, still trembling slightly from their underwater escapade.

"Yes, don't you worry," Pally answered with a mischievous grin. "What an adventure…"

The two boys looked at each other and burst into laughter, finally grasping the sheer madness of everything that had just happened. Their laughter rang out through the forest, carrying away with it the tension and the fright of the moment.