The Legendary Beekeeper-Chapter 41: Han the man... Beelathorn the godling

Han took a moment to savour this victory. There were very few things in this world that brought him true joy: the pride in his father’s eyes whenever the older man looked at him, and the feeling of dominance over those who were born above him.

And so he gazed upon the sentinel’s golden prison, not raising it to the moon’s light despite the shadow his body cast over it, for to do that would be to give a loser position above him.

’You are now mine, sentinel. In body and mind, I will use you so that no self-respecting godling of the hive will ever think to call you king,’ he thought with a smile.

Of course, Han hadn’t given up on the throne completely. He’d be a fool to do it, and a bigger fool to believe the sentinel would keep his promise once in power.

The plan was simple. Raise this creature in such a way that it could not live without him. Manipulate its upbringing so that when it did eventually become king, it would be him pulling strings from its shadow.

And he would be able to do all this without breaking whatever vows he had just made.

But of course, some things were easier said than done.

"My lord, shall I send you back?" the priestess asked, watching Han with an odd expression. There was a glistening in her golden eyes, a sort of strained expression, akin to that she had gazed upon the sentinel with.

’Fear?’ Han thought.

"Priestess," he said, holding the orb to his back. "I never got your name."

The woman nodded, weary of Han’s movements. For whatever reason, she now seemed uncomfortable around him. Perhaps it was because he now held a godling at his fingertips, or perhaps it was because he had managed to tame it.

Whatever it was, Han knew he had to make sure it did not fester.

His conversation with the sentinel had revealed to his mind a larger game at stake. There were more factions at play here than he had earlier imagined. For all he knew, toppling the Architect might make things worse on a universal scale, but more importantly, it might make things difficult for him once he was back on Earth.

And so, what he needed were partners in the Hive... pieces on a chessboard yet to be fathomed.

"I am Beeralia, High Priestess of Qlen," she replied, before quickly adding, "We have stayed long in this space, my lord. You are still but a newborn on the scale of things; it would be improper to keep you here any longer."

Han raised a finger at that, his earlier victory pumping pure confidence into his bloodstream. "Qlen? Is that a planet?"

The priestess nodded.

"Do you think I’d ever be able to visit it?"

The question brought a cold silence between them. And he wondered if perhaps it was rude to ask such questions between members of the Hive.

"If the lord chooses to remain with the Hive at the end of his trials, then he may visit any realm he wishes," she replied, a sceptical expression on her face. "However, there are far better lands than mine; perhaps those would be more to the lord’s liking."

It was only after that last part that Han understood her fear.

He now held a planet-breaker in his hands, and fragments of the Hive could destroy planets on mere whims. Who wouldn’t be sceptical of someone like him visiting their home?

"I only asked out of interest," he said, raising his hands in defeat, certain the gesture was lost to her. "You are the first true acquaintance I’ve made within the Hive, I only-"

"I was only fulfilling the task given to me, my lord," Beeralia interrupted.

Han sucked air through his teeth; rejection was not an easy emotion to overcome. However, he had not expected things to be easy anyway.

Recovering, he opened his system inventory and pulled out a chocolate bar. "Please accept this," he said, and before she could open her mouth to reject him once more, "It’s gratitude, for carrying out your responsibility with more care than you had to." And he wasn’t just saying that, he meant it.

The priestess could’ve treated him as Beelaques did, but at the very least, Beeralia had treated him with respect. And for that, he was truly grateful.

Beeralia made an odd gesture, touching her forehead with all four of her hands, before bowing. Han’s mind stored the image; another gesture that might one day prove useful.

Once the chocolate bar was in her hands, she began weaving those golden threads of hers once more. This time, Han guessed, it was his turn to be changed, to be corrupted by the Hive once more, in exchange for the sentinel’s soul.

"Oh sacred unity," Beeralia whispered under her breath, the intricate patterns of her golden threads becoming more and more complex with each passing microsecond. "Lay witness to this seal."

The pattern between her hands were beginning to look like hexagons, within hexagons... within hexagons —like fractals of inverse chaos theory... order theory if such a thing even existed.

A burning warmth pulsed from the orb in Han’s hand, and an evenly uncomfortable sensation pulsed from the base of his neck.

"These kindred spirits wish to form a vow..." One of the threads tore loose from Beeralia’s hands and bound itself around Han’s neck. The thing dug deep into his skin, and it felt as if it had slit a line right through his throat.

"Han Kim, who has been named Whisperer, do you acknowledge the vow of Lord Beelion Bulrathrax?"

It was almost impossible for him to reply what with the thread around his throat, however he knew that he did not need to open his mouth to converse.

"Yes," he replied, using High Apoidea.

"And do you accept the terms should you become foresworn? Of breaking the vows between those of goldborne?"

Han did know of the repurcussions of breaking his vows, though he could guess... death. However, Beelaria made it clear anyway.

"The punishment is death. An erasure of lineage, of all who hold your blood and seed. Do you accept?"

Han’s mind went to his father back home, to his sister as well —even though that witch did not desrve his pity— to all those family members that were trapped in the ghettos. Who was he to put their lives up for auction so that he may play god on foreign worlds?

"Yes," he answered, shocking even himself.

For in his heart of hearts, he knew this was a small price to pay. Because above it all, he did want to play god, and he relished the idea, that he of low birth now played amongst immortals. He relished in the thought that once he did return to Earth, he and his peoples would no longer be subject to the whims of elites... he would eradicate poverty and want for even the last of his descendants.

And all he had to do was win.

"Then the vow is done," continued. "You are no longer, Han Kim the human..." she said.

"In accordance with Hive law, a lord of a lord shall be renamed in gold."

Han found that he could no longer move. And what was this about being renamed?

"From this moment forth, you are named Beelathorn, for your stinging tongue," she said, the words had a sort of bitterness to them. And Han knew that his efforts to make friendly with her had failed.

"To this, the Hive lays witne..."

Han could no longer hear the words that spilt forth from Beeralia’s mouth. His world was now drowned in a sea of golden light, from which he could not fathom even the outlines of his own consciousness.

It felt as if his organs had been ripped from the coffin of his flesh, and tossed out into oblivion. Lost to space... lost to time. And with each passing instance of non-observation, he fell deeper into this pit of endlessness.

Now all he had, were the echoes of those words...

"You are no longer Han Kim."

No longer boy... no longer helpless.

No longer human.