Phoebe barged right into the adventurers’ guild, sack of slime juice in hand. I followed close behind, quickly turning intangible to dodge the door swinging through my face. Phoebe swept through the maze of stumbling drunkards with all the grace of a veteran adventurer.

  She slammed the sack onto the table, some of the snot splattering out. “Now, I believe I was promised an interesting quest. An opportunity to raise my rank, you said”.

  “Thank you”, the receptionist replied, as the bag of slime vanished and was replaced with a handful of dirty copper coins. “Although I never guaranteed that it would raise your rank…”.

  Phoebe glowered at her, and the receptionist shrunk behind her desk. “Wait, wait! I promise it really is a good quest! It’s from Pollentown!”.

  “Pollentown?”, Phoebe questioned. “I haven’t been there in ages. What sort of trouble could they be having?”.

  “Right, well, apparently their queen has fallen into a deep slumber. She hasn’t woken in days and nobody knows what to do. The quest is currently unranked, but the bees are offering a generous reward to whoever can wake her…”.

  “This sounds unsolvable”, Phoebe frowned. “Us adventurers are only good for two things: slaying monsters and subsidizing cheap inns. Still, it is interesting”.

  “Right? Right?!”, the receptionist exclaimed a little too hopefully. “This would also be a great quest for you too, Count Boogula! You said you wanted to see more of the world, right? Pollentown is a very unique city!”.

  “Oh, you want to travel the world?”, Phoebe turned to me. “I guess adventuring is a pretty good way to do that”.

  “Come to think of it, what’s your goal, Phoebe?”, I asked, now curious.

  “To become an A-ranked adventurer”, she replied, looking far into the distance. Her words were so serious and full of weight that they caught me off guard.

  The receptionist poked my cheek to get my attention. “She wants to impress her big sister”, she stage whispered. “Lucina Darkbane III, A-ranked ghost hunter. Phoebe really looks up to her”.

  “Th-That has n-nothing to do with it!”, Phoebe’s face flushed red. “I-It’s not like I want her to treat me as more than a little kid sometimes… Though that would be nice…”. An involuntary smile crept its way across her face. “A-Anyways, the quest! Yes! Let’s do this quest, Count Boogula!”.

  She zoomed out of the guild, barrelling through the customers and sending some of them onto the floor, though it wasn’t clear if it was her or the alcohol. “She’s in quite a rush, isn’t she?”, the receptionist smiled. “You’re the first teammate she’s taken on in a long time. Nobody can keep up with her. But I’m sure you more than anyone else knows the value of patience. You two might make a great team”.

  “Thank you. I’ll accept this quest reward on her behalf, then… and after all that grumbling about inn prices…”. The receptionist laughed as I scooped the copper coins off the counter and dashed out after her.

  We walked (or floated, in my case) about half a day before we started to see it, a giant orange hexagonal wall erupting out of the ground. A vibrant blanket of flowers surrounded the walls, with human-sized bee creatures sucking the nectar out of them and then flying back into the city.

  “Ok, a few pointers”, Phoebe began. “This place doesn’t get much human contact, but there is a small pathway through the flowerbed and into the city. Most bees don’t speak our tongue, but a few in the castle do. Never, ever step on any of the flowers or honeycombs”.

  “You sure know a lot”, I replied, impressed. She wore a proud smile on her face. Of course, being a ghost I could ignore all that and just fly over the wall like the bees did, but it was fascinating to hear about this town nevertheless.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Two bees guarded the entrance. We showed them our copper rings and they let us pass through the gates into the city. And what a city it was!

  The ground was covered in honeycombs filled with honey and pollen, except for our little dirt path carved into the structure. Some of the honeycombs rose high into the sky like buildings, with numerous entryways and cavities within. One building was filled with bees sleeping in each little nook, while another had mothers taking care of their larvae, and another still had workers producing the finest honey… actually that last one was kind of gross.

  I flew up to get a better view and to my surprise, the town was entirely symmetrical, save for the human path marring it. Each building had a central core cavity running through it, most of them holding large stores of water or low-grade honey. The wall on the other hand was mostly solid, with shallow holes at the top for defenders to crouch in.

  In the center of town was the palace, which was unlike any other structure. It was made up of a ring of tall honeycombs arranged in a circle, protected from above by a solid, semi-transparent layer of crystallized honey. The only entrance was through the front, like a human dwelling. Around the palace itself was a vibrant ring of flowers. The bees had filled those parts of the honeycomb floor with dirt and were using them as flowerpots, essentially.

  “This place is amazing!”, I rushed back down to tell Phoebe. She stopped and looked around, seemingly for the first time. “I guess it is, isn’t it? You don’t often get to see it, either. Bees really keep to themselves. The last time I went here, it was because of the White Bee…”.

  “The White Bee?”, I asked. She nodded. “It had white and black stripes. Was killing both people and its fellow bees alike. So the rumors say, anyways. I never got to see it, and the survivors’ accounts were all muddled. Eventually the incidents just stopped, and that was that”.

  “What a strange creature”, I turned back to the city. “This place is like a utopia. I wonder why it went crazy like that”.

  “Well, the bards back then would tell you that it got a taste of human blood, and could never go back to pollen again”, she smirked. “Me personally? I don’t think this place is what it seems. Sure, the bees know nothing of war and never lack purpose. They have no dreams or goals beyond bettering the hive today. In a way, its enviable. But they’re also just slaves. Maybe the White Bee just wanted a real sense of identity, of feeling special and unique”.

  I had no response. Before I knew it, we were entering the palace gates. The sleeping queen was gigantic, double the size of the others. One attendant was trying to tickle her with its wings, while another was directing a choir of singing… yes, singing bees. Around this pandemonium, one large bee was buzzing around frantically. It turned towards us as we entered, quickly flying down to greet us.

  “Greetingzzz, brave adventurerzzz”, he bowed. I couldn’t help but notice that his especially thick antennae looked like a mustache. “Welcome to Pollentown”.

  “Huh”, Phoebe replied. “You guys normally call us ‘dirtbound’. I appreciate the name change”. The bee flinched in response.

  “That izzz zzzimply not true”, the bee stumbled a bit over his words. “Our great ancezzztorzzz created a whole path juzzzt for the dirtbou- I mean, adventurerzzz…”.

  “Bad blood aside”, I interjected, “my name is Count Boogula, friendly ghost and new adventurer. F-ranked and rising!”.

  “I’m Phoebe Darkbane III, C-ranked adventurer. Nice to meet you, Mr. Moustache”.

  Judging by the bee’s blank expression, he had no idea what those ranks meant. He clapped his hands… feet… appendages (?) together cheerfully, regardless. “Wonderful! I hope your courage and rezzzourzzzfulnezzz… *cough cough*… help you zzzolve our plight. In the hive I am known azzz ‘Chief Attendant of Her Divinity, Buzzbuzz”. He puffed out his chest proudly.

  “Great, Buzzbuzz. Good to know”. “No, no!”, he quickly corrected. “Buzzbuzz is the zzzacred name of our queen. I am her humble chief attendant”, he said not so humbly.

  “Ok. We’ll just call you Chief, then. Thanks, Chief”. The bee was now thoroughly deflated at his new name. Half of his moustache drooped dangerously close to a honeycomb that held what looked like the queen’s poop.

  “Wait, hold on a second. Say ‘buzz’ again?”, I asked. “Buzz”, he replied. “Ok. Now say ‘bus’”. “Buzzz”.

  “Is it just me, or is he overemphasizing his accent on purpose?”, I whispered. Phoebe shrugged. “I never figured it out either. Bees do like differentiating themselves from us. Maybe the accent is just entirely fake in the first place”.

  “I have endured enough humiliation today!”, Chief snapped, tears welling in his eyes.