War of the Wasps
“Bee careful, Glory,” My mother called out to me before I left, a vial dangling on my back.
“What did we say mom? No more bee puns,” I called out, my wings already lifting me into the air.
My mom, Orchid, always tells me to be careful when I go out for pollen. Mother is always worried about the war. It began when Queen Nectar of the bees was killed by a wasp on her journey back to the hive. No one could believe that after a 20-year truce the wasps had betrayed us. Queen Stinger denied that her wasps had done anything, but there was too much tension between the wasps and bees. The war had begun.
I flew out to the fields to gather pollen from my favorite meadow. It was filled with fluffy white flowers with plenty of pollen within. I carefully gathered all the pollen I could without taking too much from the flowers. I wiped the last bit of the yellow dust off my legs and into the vial. Time to return to the hive.
I lifted off into the air, the vial not at all weighing me down, content on returning home to another night of the Spring Festivals. The hive was within view when, suddenly, a sack came down against my face. I wasn’t sure if it was the fear or the pain of being dragged against dirt, but it felt like there were 100 stingers striking me at once.
“Is this the one Striker brought back?” Asked an unfamiliar voice.
“I doubt we would bring back such a puny bee,” said another.
“I did. We have to study all bees, even peculiar little ones,” said the voice I assumed to be Striker.
They attempted to carry the sack I was in, but I fluttered my wings to get them to drop it. Their solution was to knock me out, so I couldn’t see what happened next. I woke up in a room, chained to a wall. My captors appeared to be wasps, and from the marking on their wings, they were Wing wasps.
“What hive is she from? Will they notice she’s gone?” Asked one of the voices.
“She’s from the Gold Hive, no one will no she’s missing, Stripes,” said Striker.
“Why can’t we let her go after we study her?” Said another voice, that sounded kind.
“Because we have to take her back to Viper. The head of research always knows what to do. It’s obvious, Wing.”
They left after that. I gave it some thought and realized, they were right. No one is coming for me. They won’t notice or won’t care. I’m stuck here. They mentioned I was from the Gold Hive, so they must be taking bees from all hives. There are four hives, first, Diamond, then Sapphire, after that Gold, and then Silver. The wasps had four tribes too, each named after a wasp part. There were Heads, Legs, Wings, and Stingers. They were each trained for their part specifically. Heads, knowledge, Legs, utility, Wings, flight, and Stingers, strength.
All the hard thinking made me fall asleep, and I awoke to chains rattling. I recognized the wasp as Wing.
“Hi, I’m Wing,” he said.
“I see your parents were feeling
creative,” I said to much laughter from Wing.
She led me away after freeing me, and to my surprise my hive was outside.
“I was so worried!” cried my mom.
“So glad you’re back!” exclaimed Meadow.
I was happy to see that hive really did care about me. Although, I barely had any time to think because Striker came swooping in.
“That’s our prisoner,” he shouted.
My tribe began to fight theirs. It was a big commotion, but then I saw something very important. It was a memorial to Queen Nectar!
“Wait!” I cried out.
“They honored Queen Nectar. This memorial is proof. The wasps didn’t kill her.”
“But they captured us!” cried Meadow.
“Only because we were at war!” I called back.
Something dawned on all of them at that moment, and I saw they understand. The wasps apologized and freed the prisoners while everyone spread the word to the tribes. The morning had come. The Wasp Wars were over. Peace was with us all again. And now all pay memorial to queen Nectar.