Archive of Our Own

The winds that blew through the valley had been unusually strong this spring, rippling playfully across the fields and countryside. Anything light and not tied down was tossed into the air, many feet from where it started, if it was not whisked away out of sight. Experienced adult honeybees enjoyed the gusts, sometimes deliberately jumping into the currents, able to ride the winds until they could twist themselves out of the air-stream. Younger, weaker, or inexperienced honeybees beat their wings frantically against the surprise squalls, afraid of becoming lost and easy prey for whatever predator was waiting wherever they landed. Some adolescent honeybees had attempted to copy their elders without prior knowledge of the skills needed, or had been caught in the wind, only to be lost from sight, not to be found. They kept close to each other as they flew, in case one was caught and needed help.

Mighty Wing hated that he was one of the individuals most at risk. Having lost his wings almost three years ago, when Zing Zing’s traitorous plot saw them cut off as unfair punishment, the honeybee had no real way to right himself if caught in a gust, no way to fly to the side and escape the aerial riptide like his comrades. He was forced to crawl along the ground, trying to avoid the current that could sweep him up if he stood in the wrong spot. If he stayed low enough, and kept a small windbreaker in front of them, then he would have less problems. But still, as was his duty as the captain and commander over the honeybee soldiers, it was his duty to take a few of the young cadets on a training mission to check on the conditions of the irrigation canals. He could not be afraid of some little breeze, after all, even if there had been a few close calls over the years that led him to be wary of anyone walking into the wind.

As the favored advisor to the Queen Honeybee, as well as the new honeybee captain, she had managed to procure a fine set of prosthetic wings to attach to what was left of his own. Solid, yet lightweight, easy to balance with them. If the wind was right, and not acting as if it was a sapient hunter, then he could even glide for short distances, even if only to ensure that he did not smash into the ground at full force.

But…the manufactured limbs were just not a natural part of him. A honeybee’s wings were translucent, but the prosthetics were a light brown, marking him, but also occasionally serving as a distraction when he saw them out of the corner of his eye. There was a real risk of the wind blowing him away at any time, even if he had them folded, as there was much less give in the still material than actual wings. Mighty Wing missed true flight. Being carried in a chair, the wind playing around him, was just not the same as flying by his own free will, soaring without a care in the world.

They prosthetics reminded him of the betrayal, far too much. Initially, the snips that took off three fourths of his wings had been almost painless, sad and anxious whispers from the participants and witnesses to the unjust punishment. But the immense, dizzying loss had been felt immediately. A part of him was gone, floating forlornly to the ground in front of his face. A part of him that gave him the name Mighty Wing had simply been erased from existence. After all, the wings had been his most important weapon.

The shock of the loss, alongside the despair of being forced to watch as over 3,000 of his honeybee soldiers had fallen to the slaughter of the wasps due to his own mistake in blindly trusting Zing Zing, had prevented him from fighting back against the accusations of betrayal and attempted regicide in time. He had simply allowed himself to be forced out into the barren wilderness to starve, with very little will to live. And with him out the way, the wasps and spiders had come, capturing the Garden of 1,000 Flowers for several long months. He should have come back earlier to help. The honeybees had assured him that they had been mostly unharmed, if just scared. The occupation had occurred primarily during the fall and winter months, when there had been much less work to do. Even being forced to labor in the winter, they explained, had not been as bad as it would have been in a regular hive, since the former general had trained them on how to survive and navigate in the snow and cold. Besides, he had to get used to having no wings before he could come back, anyway. The loss would have been a distraction.

He supposed they were probably right. It had taken him some weeks to come back to himself and think of ways to return to the garden, clear his name, and assist his hive, greatly encouraged by bees who risked their lives to sneak him honey so that he would not starve to death.

No one needed to mention that he would never completely get used to not having a full set of wings. Naturally, the original wings were not very sensitive in and of themselves, but he could still feel them sometimes, tingling as if they were still there, and itching for flight, suffocating from the prosthetics that had been so difficult to acquire. On occasion, the guilt ate at him late at night, as he curled up into a ball on his bed, nonexistent wings attempting to reach into the cool night air.

The coveted 1,000 Day Potion the honeybees of the 1,000 Flower Garden were known for had helped heal the life-threatening injuries he had received in to driving out the wasps, but it was still not a miraculous wonder. Now matter how much he fantasized, he still knew that his wings would not magically regrow after two years and nine months.

Well, Mighty Wing was nothing if not resilient. It was not all bad. He was quick to figure out that he could store items in the hollow parts of the prosthetics to weigh himself down. Another easy storage compartment to carry supplies as if they were an extra backpack. And the fourths of wings he had still allowed for typical honeybee communication, such as gesturing, or the waggle dance if one was too excited to talk. Pollination was out of the question, as it was not very efficient for him to physically climb up and down each stem.

But there were other jobs, bittersweet as it was.

As the new Honeybee Captain, he was responsible for the training and well-being of the troops. He was very quick to retrain himself on his former martial arts skills, relearning how to balance and whirl so as to slice wasps into pieces, just so he could teach the younger soldiers the way his grandfather had taught him. The grounded honeybee still had the capability to take down many of the enemy wasps all by himself, while his companions called the guards. He was, of course, still himself. He still had his wits about him. With the loss of his wings, he simply had to focus on and hone his other skills. He could still fight for his Queen and Flower Garden, to ensure that the mistakes that he had made would not be made again.

One of his duties as Captain was to train the cadets. The young ones in the past few years had been very bright. Honest and true to themselves and the Flower Garden, he looked upon them with pride at their developing skills. He still saw the way some of them looked at him, eyeing the prosthetics and wondering what could have happened, or even what good a Captain could be at fighting without wings. He was quick to teach them lessons in not underestimating an opponent. After all, a scarred elder has seen many battles, and has much experience. It was all simply a part of who he was. No more and no less.

He and the Honeybee Queen had discussed tactics and ways to protect the 1,000 Flower Garden deep into the nights with Wing Wing and the newer generals. The previous year, the idea of a secret glen of poisonous plants had been discussed, and agreed upon. Naturally, in certain dosages, poisons could be turned into cures, and the honeybees in the garden were well known for their healing medicines other than the 1,000 day potion. But the poisons could also be used conventionally, to be rubbed into the tips of their arrows, to strike the invading wasps.

How exactly the Wasp General found out about the supposed glen, if not the location, was a looming issue. His patrol had not managed to get the information on how the wasp soldier had found out, before Mighty Wing had decapitated the enemy in a rage. It had taken a few hours to remember the skills of the black wasp that had scouted for the Wasp General, forcing him to increase patrols even inside the kingdom. Who knew if that one was still alive, after the invasion?

He was sure that the wasps were due to attack soon. Somehow, the Wasp General had just kept coming back in the past, time after time. Where had he kept getting reinforcements? How did he convince newcomers to attack us? Even if they had decimated the wasp troops, it was unknown how desperate they could now be in trying to take over the honey stores of the 1,000 Flower Garden. Visits with the yellow butterfly near the ginseng pass had revealed that the spiders that usually lay in wait for travelers had mostly vanished, coinciding with reports from his own troops small groups of spiders occasionally appearing around the edges of the kingdom. Both the Wasp General and the Spider King had been gone for so long, that it was only natural for them to have built up a new army, something even the cadets seriously trained to fight against.

And then, they had finally heard from them. Except, instead of an attack, or a demand for surrender, they had asked for peace talks.

Still, inexperience easily resulted in curiosity, leading to lots of unwanted questions. As they took shelter behind a log, the wind blew harder, dragging everything in its way towards the river behind them.

“But sir, why should our Queen meet with the Wasp General in a diplomatic matter? Is he not dangerous with his armies and ambitions?”

“Surely, he does not have enough of an army left to warrant an actual meeting?” Another asked.

Mighty Wing held himself back from bristling and scaring the youngster. It would be unbecoming to do so in front of his friend, the Chief of Staff, who had accompanied the group in monitoring the irrigation channels. Besides, the younglings needed to learn. “The Wasp General is dangerous, yes. But our queen believes that if we do not practice diplomacy with our enemies, then we are no better than the barbaric creatures who refuse to open their doors to the concept of community. Where would we be if we did not try to act civilized?”

A good speech for the youngsters, putting aside his own hatred and distaste at the idea. The wind began to pick up as he spoke, adding a dramatic background he did not need. Still, they nodded, in awe of receiving advice from one of the greatest heroes in the garden.

The Chief of Staff bowed forward from behind another branch a little way off, moving to join them. “Perhaps he will reveal that he had a change of heart and wants to leave us alone from now on, although we must still be on our guard in case it is a-” the wind caught him as he was halfway across the gap, forcing him to stagger, almost falling over. Naturally, he bent his knees to catch his balance and finish his trek. A leaf flew over his head, startling him and forcing the honeybee to open his wings, catching him.

In a moment, Mighty Wing was standing behind him, instinct forcing him to catch his comrade under the arms. The wind increased again, compelling the honeybee to shove the Chief of Staff to safety, as others had done for him in the past. Off balance, his own wings tried to flare in surprise, prosthetics opening automatically.

He twisted in the air as he was blown away, cadets, Chief of Staff, and other honeybees carefully trying to follow him to assist in his landing. A little way away, he could see one of the streams, the water was rushing up to meet him. On any other day, he would have been glad for the softer landing. But with the recent rains, the stream had swelled, threatening to wash him away.

 If I angle myself correctly, then I can land in that calm looking section! He twisted his body, angling the drag of the prosthetics to correct his form.

A little bit behind him, the pursuing honeybees saw their comrade splash into the water.

Like with the wind above, the current of the water was indeed calm behind a rock. It should have been easy to swim to the surface and back to the shore. Instead, something caught Mighty Wing’s leg, pulling him down into the depths. Twisting, pulling out his dagger to cut himself free, his head brushed against a protruding rock, briefly startling him long enough to be pulled into an unfamiliar orb, which began to sink further down.

On his knees, the honeybee looked around at the strange container. There was air inside of it, albeit not much. It would run out soon if he did not manage to force himself back out and swim back up. How curious! What could this be? An alarm bell ringing deep inside of his head snapped him out of his wonder. This could be dangerous. Next to him and below him were other, similar, pods, each with a dark figure inside of them. He went for a closer look.

They are all dead! A collection of different insects that had been blown into the stream by the wind. Ants, beetles, and even some of the missing honeybees from the past few weeks. A few looked as if they had suffocated, the pods slightly deflated. Other bodies appeared to have been drained.

A shadow moved above him. “Oh! It is you! What a catch! What a catch!” Mighty Wing looked up in time to see the diving bell spiders descend on him, powerless under the water.

“And you are saying that you have yet to find him?” The Queen Honeybee sat up straighter, expression growing stricter as she processed the information.

General Wing Wing’s wings briefly shuddered as he kneeled, antenna twitching in submission, answered by the nervous flaps of the attendants behind him. “No, your majesty. But we will work hard to find him or the body soon, I assure you.”

The Queen’s eyes narrowed, “You will find him. Alive. The reports on the stream I have received over the past few days suggest that the water currents have been very strong. He will have been washed downstream, and reemerged from the banks elsewhere, if outside interference does not occur. I order you to start looking for him!” Her favorite advisor could not have been killed. Not when the wasps and spiders had suggested that they were interested in diplomacy, partially spurred on by the idea that they were incapable of defeating their nemesis Mighty Wing. How very suspicious for him to vanish on the eve of the meeting!

The Wasp General was elated, having shared a small celebration of alcohol with the Spider King when the messengers had brought the news. It had been well worth paying the limited supplies to keep the diving bell spiders spying on the 1,000 Flower Kingdom, well-hidden out of sight. Not only could they hear any conversations near the water, they could take the bees or any other insect as their own food source, as well.

He had almost hoped to capture Mighty Wing at the diplomatic meeting. Setting up a trap for his hated obstacle was risky, but it was possible that he could remove suspicion from himself by speaking flowery language to the Honeybee Queen. The damn queen knew him far too well to be buttered up normally, after the way he had treated her. With anyone else, he could have called for a diplomatic meeting to discuss a peace treaty, and then attacked during the talks. But not here, where she would have to be an absolute fool not to have an army prepared to attack a little way away from the meeting place. He would have to go through with the talks as if they were a legitimate thing, as he was conceding that his wasp army, albeit smaller than before, held the same value as the low born peasants everyone knew he saw as nothing more than servants.

But thanks to his own brilliance, the blockade to his greatness was removed even before the meeting. He would still go through with the meeting, though. After all, he had a new plaything to look forward to, once he managed to deflect suspicion from himself on the disappearance. He would finally fulfill his promise to the late Wasp King and execute Mighty Wing on his grave. After the honeybee had been made to apologize and beg properly, of course. Only then, could he declare himself king, and sit on the throne in the hive palace.

He paused in the dungeons, listening around the corner, expecting to hear angry shouts.

“Hey! Are you alive?” the voice of the hated enemy of the wasps and spiders drifted through the air.

“Can you hear me?” For a moment, he assumed it was about himself.

“Are you all ok? Can you tell me who you are?” Another pause. “Are you…are you…oh. What have they done?” the tone suggested outrage, but also a worry that what he was witnessing could be his own fate. A quiet, rasping moan could be heard in response.

Aha! So, he has seen the other subjects of the prison! Both Wasp General and spider king turned to each other in order to share an excited glance.

“Hold on, I can’t hear you. Let me just-” the enraged grunting was a problem that struck fear through the hearts of the wasps and spiders. The former general had, after all, been known to be quite the escape artist.

The Spider King had gathered his subjects with the strongest threads, just for such a preparation. Together, they had woven a web across the small cell, hopefully able to withstand the struggles of the honeybee, making sure to restrain his limbs to the best of their abilities. The Wasp General had repeatedly warned the spiders not to allow the honeybee to get any leverage. Sticking him to the middle of the web so he had nothing solid to strain against had been one way. They had been worried that binding his limbs with actual rope or chains would be detrimental. Since they were thicker, the honeybee was liable to find a way to slip them off, if not cut them off completely. So, spider thread with some elasticity that twisted with him, threads forever moving just out of reach of his fingers and wings, it would have to be.

Wrists, elbows, knees, and ankles were bound away from each other, with other thread around his waist, just loose enough to allow for some limited hemolymph movement. It was possible that the position would put pressure on the honeybee soldier’s chest and breathing, but that was a risk they needed to take until the other measures in restraining the escape artist were prepared. His capture had been a surprise, after all.

“I can see your shadow in the torchlight, Wasp General and King Spider. How about you show yourself and tell me the truth of what this is all about?”

Together, the wasp and the spider moved forward to gloat in front of their enemy.

“Just as I thought, the rumors of the two of you wanting to make peace were false. Let me guess, this was a plot to try and kidnap me at the diplomacy meeting, wasn’t it?” Mighty Wing watched the two smirk. “I guess the meeting is cancelled now, isn’t it?”

The Wasp General began to laugh, startling the captive honeybee and spider king. “No, I have every intention of still meeting with the Queen in order to discuss terms for peace. Obviously, we would have turned on the delegation, but with you already here, deep in our territory, there is no need for that anymore. We will still have to continue with the meeting to cover our tracks, though.”

“So, you intend to meet with sweet words and empty promises, only to stab your guest in the back, as always.” Briefly, his own back flared in pain. Less from the restrictive position, but more from the memory of Zing Zing’s accomplice stabbing him in an attempt at assassination.

“It is kind of the truth! We do want peace. Although that peace will come with extensive revenge for our king, first.” While he spoke, the General eyed the smile spreading across the face of the accompanying Spider King, suggesting that he was imagining the peace that would come with a delicious smorgasbord made out of bees, still sore that Mighty Wing had rescued all the prisoners he had kept in the restaurant larder. They would have to defeat the bees sooner, rather than later. The spiders did not mind eating wasps, after all.

“Do you intend to display my capture at the end of the meeting? I assure you; we are much better prepared than the last time to fight off your hordes.”

“Oh, well I do say we have a much better plan than that, this time. What is it you have said? It is best to use our wits than to rely on brute force? We have been preparing for the next invasion.”

“We.” It was not a question, nor an accusation. Simply a statement. The spider king rubbed his front legs together as Mighty Wing’s expression turned to rage and disgust, once again straining at his restraints. His wings managed to fray a few threads, unraveling them slowly the more he moved and twisted, but just not enough to free himself.

“You have humiliated and bested us so many times, and encouraged your honeybee soldiers to follow in your footsteps. Our numbers are lower than in the past, so it is for the best that we take out as many of your soldiers in a way that does not involve physical confrontation, at first.”

And that is why they want to know about the supposed glen of poisonous flowers. I can’t let them know. Involuntarily, his eyes flitted between the other captives of the cells, some now recognizable as the former unit commanders of the General’s army. He could only guess that the Wasp General had imprisoned them for failing to contain the Honeybee uprising, or even for being contenders for the Wasp King’s throne. They were all far too sickly for a normal illness. “What, are you milking spider venom to poison the water supply? If the two of you have learned to work together, than why would you not want to work with everyone else for the sake of community? You might as well tell me, since you have already told me so much.”

The spider king sighed. “Unfortunately, spider venom does not survive outside of the body very well, although it can be tempered to leave the prey alive instead of killing them. Together, we have created a machine to spray fresh venom quite a distance, though, it is quite taxing and takes a while to reload.”

“But would you not rather the death by poison to be quick?” the Wasp General asked.

Here we go. Mighty Wing said nothing, instead choosing to glare as he paused in his struggling.

“I know you killed a few of my soldiers when they asked about your secret batch of poisonous flowers. If we could get ahold of these flowers, supposedly planted away from your other flowers, we could synthesize a large batch enough to quickly decimate your hive and subdue the survivors. Given your knowledge on medicines and that they were meant to be used against us, I can easily surmise that the poison you could make would kill quickly, and with little pain. So, how about you make this easier on everyone and give us the location of the flowers, why don’t you?”

“How DARE you!” Mighty Wing glanced at the downed insects. “Do you really think that I would just tell you the location of the plants we would use for special medicinal purposes!”

The guard unlocked the cell, allowing the Wasp General inside. There was not enough room for the spider king and his attendants. “You will tell us, eventually.”

Briefly, Mighty Wing remembered the fates of Zing Zing and his attendant. How they had been desperate to tell the truth to the queen to stop the punishment before their execution. How it had been Zing Zing’s plan for him to go through the same thing, despite being innocent. It had only been the Queen’s favoritism that had spared him from writhing under the same torment. Was he going to meet the same fate, after all? He struggled harder, grunting as more and more of the webbing was cut by his wings. I must report this before it is too late!

The wasp general slowly checked the other bonds, starting just below a clasping hand, nails threatening to scratch if he got too close. His own hand moved to grasp the honeybee’s face under the chin, thumb near his cheek, forcing the figure to look forwards at him. “We can do this quickly, or it can be-”

Mighty Wing moved, lowering his head to bite the hand touching him, barely missing the aimed at fingers. With a shout, the Wasp General slapped at his captive with his other hand, taking a step back. Still attached, Mighty Wing was pulled a few inches forward, leverage he could not have obtained otherwise. His wings, with more space, moved outwards, than forwards in practiced movements. The Spider King shouted a warning as the honeybee’s wings broke free, edges beginning to rip through the reinforced webbing.

Violently, the honeybee soldier twisted, angle allowing the wings to cut through more of the webbing around his body. His mouth was forced to let go of the hand he was biting, but his goal had been reached. Within moments, he was free of the webbing, slamming against the doors of the cell to prevent the Wasp General from closing it on him, he washed a few precious seconds pushing it open again, turning to fight his enemies in the narrow hallway. 

Instead, the Spider King’s attendant lowered a device shaped like a trumpet, biting down on one end. Before Mighty Wing could dodge or hold his breath, a mist pumped out towards him, numbing his limbs into uselessness.

Fuck-shit! He collapsed on the ground, intent on figuring out how to move with the added handicap.

Another attendant of the Spider King, this one with a muzzle, rushed forward, briefly yanking him to his knees before burying its fangs into his exposed shoulder, ending his struggles as the cold, paralyzing venom did its work.

The Wasp General watched in delight as Mighty Wing tried to move, failing more and more. Twitching on the ground, his struggles ceased as his limbs locked up on himself, cramping and twisting at times as the honeybee’s instincts screamed at him to fly away. Labored, panting, breaths stilled, returning to normal as he curled up on himself.

He had seen it before, but in the distance as the spiders had tried their special venom on other insects. But no, the sight of those disgusting peasants, the honeybees, twitching on the ground would always be his favorite sight.

“Fascinating. And this will keep him like this for how long again?”

“Thanks to your assistance in inventing the aerosol sprayers, we have been able to experiment quite a bit. With this combination, he will be fully conscious, yet barely able to move for approximately 12 hours. Once the anesthetic wears off, the poison will activate and attack his body, so he will be able to move again, but will be very weak.”

The Wasp General grinned, an idea coming over him. He ran his fingers over Mighty Wing’s back gently inspecting the foreign material strapped over the ruined wings.

“Wha…? don…are.” a quiet whisper as the vocal cords were finally silenced.

Quickly, the Wasp General removed the prosthetics, inspecting the handiwork before placing them back into the cell. He and the Spider King watched the honeybee’s stumps flutter, jerking frantically as if in an attempt to cut off their heads. How curious it is that spider venom hardly ever attacks the wings. It must be because they are so integral to our bodies.

Well, it was not as if the honeybee could fly away from him even if he was not paralyzed, or even communicate with ruined wings. The Honeybee Queen had made sure of that, and the wasps had not even been responsible for her error.

Short as the wings were, the Wasp General could still feel the small gusts of wing and mild vibrations coming from under his throne. It had been well worth it to trap Mighty Wing in the small container under the seat, to listen to him try and fail to even move his tongue to scream out a warning. The sheer torment of knowing that his hive was in great danger, with the ones who could save him right there in front of him, but no way to message them was what would keep him pleasantly smiling throughout the terrible ordeal of having to treat the filthy bee peasants as if they were equals.

His eyes wandered over the sight of all the bees surrounding their queen, wings beating frantically as if expelling nervous energy, others slower as to calm the others. The queen sat near the other end of the table, her attendant General Wing Wing halfway down, other honeybees passing messages between the two. Their little wings also flicked and beat, as if displaying the proper amount of fear and nerves one should have when faced by a superior creature that the queen could not show. On occasion, however, the honeybee queen beat her own wings, as if it was a signal for the others to relax, or in agreement with what an attendant had said. With the queen slightly out of sight, however, the alternate general beat his wings the hardest, sweat beading on his forehead at the proximity to the enemy general.

Despite everything, they were still scared on him, apparently. Good.

“And you cannot order your troops to return to you, leaving the other bee hives alone?” The Honeybee queen had some questions, to be asked by Wing Wing, who would serve as her attendant in Mighty Wing’s stead. It was a start. If this meeting went smoothly, then she could expect to have to meet with the wasps several times to try and create something resembling a nonaggression pact, if not a peace treaty. If anything, it would just be a talk, to prove that it was possible to meet without the two species devolving into violence.

As upsetting as his disappearance is, Mighty Wing’s presence at this meeting may have resulted in a few complications. Even the queen, mostly aloof of minor interpersonal conflicts, was aware of the Wasp Generals fear and animosity. And how could that not exist, when the wasp knew what her Captain was capable of?

“I have been keeping the wasps under my control the best I can. Once a new wasp king has been crowned, then he could return this place to a proper kingdom.”

“Am I to assume that person would be you?”

“Unfortunately, the former Wasp King’s children appear to either be dead or lost, and cannot take over. There are many in the army that would prefer that I take the throne, as the general. There are others who would believe that another individual would be better at the job. Naturally, there will be squabbles until all but one are convinced to back down, or removed from the equation. There are certain tasks that must be done in order to ascend to the throne, as well, but I still need time to do them. This may involve me having to enter your lands on occasion”

“You claim to want peace, despite what you have done to all Honeybee kind in the past. And yet, still, recently, there are reports of wasp raids from a few honeybee hives from outside the valley.”

“I hold those reports to be a bit inconsequential. These winds and been blowing both squads of wasps and individual wasps far out of the valley. They cannot be controlled if they are away from my power. The reports I have heard even suggest that the honeybees saw a few wasps, and threw jars of honey at them as an offering to make them go away, or even that the bees saw one single wasp several times and panicked. I have no intention of ordering my wasps to attack the honeybees at this point in time.”

It was true enough. Just the words of outsiders, without solid proof, spoken in a room of two leaders who hated each other.

The honeybee Queen was genuinely surprised when there was no attack or hassling on the way back to her hive.

A day later, the Wasp General and the Spider King began their work.

“So…so you actually do know how to work to make your own hon- no, what is that smell? Agh! Gak!”

It had been well worth it to actually create some of their own honey from specific plants in the mountains, partially for the horrified reactions of whoever was unfortunately enough to eat the honey. Not that the fun of it all could even possibly convince himself or the rest of the wasps to continue working to make their own normal honey, when there were still honeybees to steal it from or make work for them.

“Almond blossoms and…uuugh… blech! King of Bitters? Why would you make honey this disgusting?”

The little honeybee was coming out of the paralysis, only for the poison part of the venom to start attacking his very being. His face had begun to flush, first, easily mistakable for rage over knowing that almost everything the Wasp General had said during the meeting at been a lie. The wasp had almost prepared to run again, until the Spider King pointed at him to watch closer.

The flushing settled, allowing the tensing face to have an almost burning appearance. The usually strong, piercing eyes began to water as the nose ran uncontrollably. Drooping antennae matched the closing eyelids as the honeybee forced himself to curl into a sitting position, mirroring the victims in the other cells as his muscles cramped from the poison venom.

“Ahhhh…guh...” the sigh was long, as the honeybee forced his wings to stop to prevent the jolting in his brain. Pressure began to build behind his forehead, forcing both his eyes and room to swim.

In actuality, while not a cure, the honey was actually a mitigative measure for the poison’s effects. The King of Bitters honey, despite its namesake taste, would reduce the fever and inflammation in his nerves for a set period of time. The disgusting tasting almond honey would help prevent any serious spasms and seizures while they questioned their quarry.

Following the honeybee, the wasp general pounced, pulling him out of the curled-up position, briefly frowning as a whine was stifled and the angry glare returned. “Hm? Don’t you want to keep your strength up? To try and ask for help if it comes?” he sneered, “I am very sorry that this food is unlike the sweet honey you bees are able to make.”

He trapped the arms against his body, while gripping the burning head in a vice grip as the bee struggled and gagged at the taste, legs frantically kicking against the dirt of the cell. But the honeybees of the 1,000 Flower Garden were known for their knowledge of medicines for a good reason. Soon, the wasp’s enjoyment faded as Mighty Wing ceased struggling, simply taking the honey while his face twisted in disgust, knowing it would help his condition.

Once the jar was empty and the effects allowed to settle, the Wasp King began more of his interrogation. “I know you could hear everything that was said in the meeting. Would you like to know the tasks I must complete in order to become the king of the wasps?”

“We…we have captured a few wasps before…they say you must kill us…”

“Correct! The wasps wish for me to execute you and many other bees on the gravestone of our previous king. Normally, we would sacrifice the queen as well, but I think it is safe to assume that she knows almost nothing, and that you are half of the source of her power anyway,” the Spider King’s attendant handed the Wasp General a cup.

Mighty Wing blinked slightly back into focus, confused.

“Oh!” Are you saying that you did not know? Your queen is weak without you! That is why it was so easy to take over the 1,000 Flower Garden once you were gone. That is why it will be so easy to poison her with our spider venom.”

“We are not so stupid as to allow-” the liquid was forced down his throat, burning as it went down.

The new venom heightened the sensation of the original, while still allowing for proper, if clumsy, movement. Not that it mattered, with the Wasp General pinning the honeybee to the ground as he writhed, blearily attempting to fight the enemy. The venom continued to ravage his system, as if it was ripping him apart, twisting every fiber of him into a new piece. The burning in his face increased as his antennae continued to dance frantically.

“How about it? If you take us to these poison flowers of yours, which surely work faster than our spider venom, then the other bees will not have to die so painfully. We can keep you in this state for weeks at a time, you know?”

Even in his feverish state, Mighty Wing did not doubt that they were telling the truth. But, if he could hold out, just a little longer, then surely his countrymen could make it in time-

He could not help but claw at the ground, crying out as the Wasp General began to twist his wings. The Spider King, dropping formalities, reached through the bars of the cell and joined in, wasp and spider sharing the wings and twisting in differing directions.

“STOP IT!”

A blade was pressed against his head, before moving to his back. In an instant, he paused, tensing. “You don’t really need these useless things, do you? You can’t fly, anyway, so you would lead us to the flowers without these stumps. Still, you can keep them if you want. It is up to you.”

Mighty Wing remained silent, eyes wide and briefly clear, staring at the ground, shivering.

The blade began to press in.

“Wait…” a whisper.

The blade began to slide, readying to saw away what was left of his old name. The honeybee found he was not ready for such an action. Prosthetics or no, the one fourth of his remaining wings was still a gift from his countrymen. The queen had meant for the entirety of his wings to be sliced off, and her own executioners had gone against such orders, inviting similar punishment themselves, just to allow him to retain ahold of a little bit of himself, at least so he could survive while banished. He could not lose such a gift, such a part of his old self.

“Don’t you dare, you barbarians! Do you not have any sense of civilized behavior when it comes to prisoners?”

The sliding cut was familiar, all too familiar. Not exactly painful, but the intense feeling of loss, the almost silent ripping sound and a blade slicing something thin and gossamer, accompanied by the palpable horror and unease of the onlookers. As the wings began to drift downwards, he was taken back to during the war. The intense depression of the loss of all the honeybee soldiers under his command. The silent, judging crowds, glaring at him for failing them. others, quietly jeering, before looking away embarrassed. All, except for Zing Zing and the Queen, knowing that without his assistance, without his presence strangely scaring the wasps and the spiders, they were likely to be overrun. The kingdom would fall, and it was his own fault.

The wing slicing had never been painful in the physical sense. But the part of him that made him Mighty Wings was gonegonegonepleaseno gone forever, just thoughtlessly gone in what was supposed to be a merciful punishment as opposed to execution. He would not have chosen death. If the Queen had ordered him to be executed, he might have fought back, but he had held hope that losing most of his wings and being banished for a time would see her forgiving him, as it had, but to lose them completely-

I am not ready!

He watched the salty droplets stain the ripped sheets of paper next to his head, a warning.

“Just let me rest for a little bit! Let me have a rest and I can take you there! Just don’t do that!” He was not scared. He could never be scared of wasps and spiders or even the wind. But losing his wings?

The blade retracted, to the cackling of the spiders and wasps. “Rest? With how long it will take you to crawl along the ground while leading our entire armies to collect the plants? We will leave immediately!”

The stress had not made his fever any better, and it certainly did not help his balance as he tried to make sense of things. The entire wasp and spider army. The entire wasp and spider army was following him. Strong thread bound his wrists in front of him, a rope leading back to the Wasp General, who held the end firmly. At least it was not around his neck. He would have been choked unconscious by now.

His captors had given him his prosthetics back, assisting in reattaching them, somewhat gently as they were fascinated by the technology. They were rather disappointed that their little joke about him crawling had been reality. The wings did not allow him to fly, but were more for balance, comfort. He could barely glide with them. Every step only brought severe pain as his burning insides were jolted, the spiders and wasps preventing him from fainting. On occasion, one of them would assist in dragging or lifting him up a cliff or over a pond. A dark, sinister, convoy of death, reaching through the woods.

Finally, finally, in a glen in the woods near the 1,000 Flowers Garden, he paused, unveiling the markers the wasps would recognize as the secret poisonous flower patch. Even in the evening, the wind blew the sweet smell around, as the bell-shaped blooms danced ominously.

“Lily of the Valley!” A wasp soldier whispered. The other wasps and spiders spread out under the blooms, careful not to touch.

The Wasp General frowned. “But these flowers do not produce nectar. How could you produce medicine from them?” he pulled Mighty Wing closer using the rope, flashing the knife as the weakened honeybee faltered. Watering, dizzy eyes followed as it flashed back and forth, hoping to avoid a sharp blow.

“Not the nectar. They have…a…sap in them that we can…can…” he was sinking towards the ground again, catching himself and standing up, dripping with sweat despite the cool air. “Please. Properly. I can show you,” the winds increased, rustling the trees.

The combined armies moved under the flowers, standing around the roots. Collectivity, they leaned in closer as the honeybee moved under a strong stem, a leaf dropping above his head.

Instantly, a whistle sounded, piercing through the air. The buzzing and screaming began.

Where is the Spider King? What are his men doing? Did they give up and run away again like cowards? He needs to bring them down!

The only reason the Wasp General was still alive was due to his quick thinking in grabbing the honeybee as a hostage before flying upwards. He could see the honeybee soldiers in the darkness as they occasionally came close, faces livid as they hesitated in shooting their Captain with an arrow or spear. Still, they would not allow him to escape with his captive, forcing him towards the middle where his troops were being decimated once again by the bows and arrows of the 1,000 Flower Garden. Looking around, he understood.

Too much cover! The arrows have enough speed to rain down, but the spider web guns can’t make it through the leaves. The few that had, catching soldiers to drag down, found the web ropes swiftly cut free by other honeybees. They had not thought to bring the larger web cannons. Instead, the ones that could, had retreated, fleeing into the thicket.

His previously limp captive stirred, almost causing him to lose his balance, beginning to slip out of his grasp. If I drop him, they will leave me alone to escape!

But he knew he could not simply drop the honeybee in front of just anyone. Moving Mighty Wing out to his front, one arm supported the honeybee under the armpits, head and limps hanging limply. With his other hand, he held a knife to the unconscious neck, threatening to slice, and calmly waited.

It was not long before the familiar General Wing Wing materialized from the group, flying slowly towards the two so he could speak to the wasp and ask of his demands.

Perfect. All eyes will be on the two of them! Now, where to run that they will not expect?

Mighty Wing was falling.

He was falling and someone was yelling his name. Multiple individuals were screaming at him, ordering him to wake up. But who were they? His mind burned, hot and fuzzy, rational thought barely making its way through the horrendous pain devouring his body.

Confused, he opened his eyes. Below him, sharp rocks reached up to meet him, while above, General Wing Wing hurtled from the sky, reaching down to meet him with outstretched arms, but with momentum just a hair not fast enough to match the waiting rocks.

And then it clicked. The Wasp General dropped me! I can get away and warn everyone about his plot!

Quickly, Mighty Wing managed to spin himself upright. The prosthetic wings would not stop his fall completely, but they were designed to provide some lift in just such a situation. His own wings flared, briefly catching the wind, slowing his descent, just enough for the embrace of his rescuer, avoiding the jagged rocks below.

General Wing Wing cradled his twitching friend behind a rock, hidden from the battlefield. He had not crashed, had not injured himself in the descent, but there was something terribly, terribly wrong. Was it the artificial wings? Had they dug in somewhere important and ruptured something? The honeybee had painfully screamed at the small jolt of the landing, going as limp as he had while in the Wasp Leader’s clutches, before struggling in his own grasp.

His face was pale and clammy, dripping beads of sweat as he tried to move despite the cooler air. Wing Wing was quick to remove the tight bonds, immediately afterwards checking his comrade’s limbs and body for broken bones, finding none.

“Captain Mighty Wing, get ahold of yourself! Come to your senses! What is wrong?”

“Augh, eh, gack.” The body was going slack, unseeing eyes closing, yet the antennae flailed around, frantically, as if they were hands grasping for something. The general moved, catching and caressing the antennae with his own, a strong sense of calmness meeting confused panic, one soothing the other.

A deep, steadying, breath, and the downed honeybee spoke. “Antidote!”

“Medic!”

It did not matter how the spiders mixed their poisons. The antivenom antidote panacea the honeybees of the 1,000 Flower Garden had created worked all the same.

Mighty Wing shivered slightly, head supported by a folded towel while covered in a blanket as his fever and pain subsided, he finally allowed himself to go limp, allowing himself to rest for the first time since the wind had caught him. A sense of peace washed over him, lazily drifting his antennae from comrade to comrade, exchanging comforting messages. Foreheads touched, allowing vibrational communication on his health status, allowing the medic to treat his injuries without him needing to tax himself by speaking.

And then finally, he needed to rise, as was his duty. “Help me to sit up.”

“Drink this,” the medic ordered. Nectar, diluted with water, to help him regain his strength as the venom in his body was finally destroyed. Delicious, sweet, nectar, to wash away the terrible aftertaste of the wasp’s honey.

General Wing Wing leaned over to him, continuing to provide comfort via their antenna.

“You were not harmed in the hive castle, were you?”

A short laugh. “Other than the poison bite, I am fine. It is a wonder that all of you were able to keep your faces and actions in check at the diplomatic meeting, though.”

“Our queen herself was surprised that we were not attacked on the way back, considering how furious she was, and how she was unable to hide her anger.”

“I suppose I should consider the fact that the wasps were not paying attention for such a low frequency was a blessing.”

“Eh? What do you mean?” a younger medic asked, as another, young, soldier cocked his head.

Mighty Wing chuckled bitterly as the medic paused, glancing at him in concern. “If a honeybee’s wings are clipped, the frequency of the vibrational communication is increased while the intensity decreases.” The former general rested his arm on his knee, moving his head to allow for the medic to clean and bandage the punctures in his shoulder. “If my wings were not the way they were, the Wasp General might have noticed that I was managing to communicate a plan to my comrades to bring them all here. Even if they knew that honeybees could speak to each other by vibrating their wings, they would have assumed that I would not be able to participate.”

“Amazing! How could you have thought of that?”

“One must use every tool at their disposal, in order to remain sharp to defeat the enemies. Our Queen knew that I could possibly be targeted, and had us practice for just such an occasion. And even still, we were to learn special coded vibrational wingbeats that would not normally be used in general conversation, in case there was someone who did know and was paying attention. You will learn it soon enough.”

“But still, deciding to expose the location of the Lily of the Valley flowers, and have us wait there for however long it took you to bring them, was a fantastic idea!” The general complimented.

“There was enough cover for you to shoot down, and they could not shoot up. Once you attacked, as usual when faced with a larger threat, the spiders would run into the only shelter they had available, and the wind would blow any of their webbing back onto them. A simple matter of tactics, in the end. But I am very glad that you to get here as fast as you did. I was so worried for our homeland, I know some would give up because I was missing in the past.” I don't think I could have stalled them for much longer without losing what was left of my wings.

“We will always strive to protect our garden, each and every one of us. We are no longer a fledgling country whose soldiers would give up because one individual was missing.”

“I am very glad we have changed so much. The late Captain would be so proud of us.”

The group moved from behind the rock, intent on removing the Captain from the battlefield. Wing Wing supported Mighty Wing’s good shoulder, while another honeybee held onto his waist on the other side.

Turning, they were in time to see a large force of the honeybee army converge on the spider army in the thicket. Suddenly, without warning, the spiders erupted from their cover, aerosol poison masks affixed to their faces as they shot their web guns, forcing many of the struck bees to land on the ground. A second and third wave of bees moved to help their fellows as the spiders prepared a second attack.

“No! Wait! Fall back!” Mighty Wing yelled a warning.

The cloud of poison exploded into the air towards the honeybees, billowing through the air as many wasps followed behind it, ready to slaughter the victims. The cloud was blown back by the winds, many wasps and spiders failing to find refuge before they were covered in their own poisonous weapons.

Mighty Wing wasted no time, snatching a bow and arrow from a nearby soldier, he lit the tip with another’s torch, firing into the toxic cloud.

The smell of burning wasps and spiders filled the air, as the enemies were no longer able to escape.

"They should have listened," Mighty Wing mumbled. Slowly, exhaustion penetrating his very being, he sank down towards the ground, allowing the medics to safely carry him off in a stretcher.

It had been the last straw. They were hunting. The honeybees knew the locations of the wasp and spider towns and hives, having scouted them out after the Chief of Staff had been kidnapped by them years ago. Kidnapping innocent insects, kidnapping their own, once again, when they said they had stopped. Mass poisoning? Such a danger needed to be removed.

The prison had its own ventilation shaft, that the honeybees knew. Anyone inside could be retrieved unharmed, later, and given antidotes and detoxing potions, if need be, in order to get their stories. There was no problem in burning down the former Wasp King’s hive castle with so many of the remnants of the wasps’ armies still inside, just as they had done to the spiders.

The cadets watched, wide eyed, some with fury and vengeance towards the enemy, some shocked by the brutality.

Mighty Wing stood tall on a rock overlooking the carnage, searching for survivors and escapees, occasionally giving orders to aides who passed along messages.

“Sir…?” Several of the cadets were confused. Perhaps a bit young and naïve to have been taken out on such a mission, but the Queen had declared that this would be a turning point in the history of the 1,000 Flower Garden. It would be imperative that the youngsters be able to watch as they were proactive in eradicating as many of the enemy as possible.

He twitched an antenna, giving a soft smile to remove their fear. They would not be considered a traitor for speaking their minds. Where would their society be if they did not listen to everyone, even the youngest, to assuage their fears?

“The forces of the wasps and the spiders have been greatly depleted. They should not be able to harm us anymore. Why do we need to continue chasing after each and every one? They are so small compared to us, now, their army should be inconsequential to us.”

Mighty Wing smiled as he spoke, gently patting the heads of the youngsters. “Although the enemy may be no more than a mosquito when compared to us, we must never forget how they have acted in the past. We cannot consider them as less dangerous than an elephant. The stragglers will be the most important. After all, even a small fire must be snuffed out before it can spread. And we must protect ourselves, so we can protect our neighbors and the community.”

The cadets and honeybee soldiers cheered in victory as the castle burned. If the Wasp General managed to survive, they would hunt him down.