Mind Like a Hive – Part 4 (Part Negative One?)
I have had almost zero sleep because of my son. Today appears to be a complete and utter cluster of crazy. I haven’t created any new story work for quite some time, and I’m beginning to suspect that I’m not really ever going to be a long term successful author, because I still haven’t finished editing a scant three thousand words after two months.
Yet here we go. It’s Friday, so lets do this.
Mind Like a Hive – Part Four
In the beginning was The Flower. The litany of creation began whispering in the corners of Sheraith Bohigdon’s mind as she limped her way back to the landing field, her orders from General Hawthorne tucked under her arm. The Flower, old as the world, bloomed at the dawning of time. Although the porrebug had done the usual fantastic job with her wounds, and the analgesic saliva of the lovely creature would stop the pain for hours to come, Sheraith still had to grit her teeth if her leg caught on anything. She was also very light headed from blood loss. Yet she was one of few knights to have made it back from the front, and she was the only one in condition to fly. The Flower lived for countless millennia in solitude, basking in the glory of the Suns rays, floating on the endless ocean of Aubrean.
General Hawthorne had been her usual direct self. She doesn’t even know how to be anything else anymore, even in bed. Sheraith chuckled darkly as she came into sight of Gyver’s magnificent form, head darting to the landing field greens in pursuit of the tick bugs the stableboy had thrown in front of him. The General needed her to deliver the orders to the frontal command post, so they could begin an organized retreat towards their secondary line of defense. It needed to be an organized retreat as soon as possible, because it would become a rout before too much longer. The Flower, despite it’s ageless perfection, became lonely in it’s wanderings. So it invited the first of the Matrons. How the forward command post was expected to do that, with the armies of three separate Hives arrayed against them, victory had been almost impossible from the start of this campaign. Yet they had no choice but to fight.
The Hivemother, the first Matron, Mother of all that walked and crawled on all The Flower. It was she which designed the hives, she which made the first of the Kova, and it was she which made the Bargain. Gyver was reluctant to leave any of his meal on the grass, but Sheraith made sure to explain to him that they had to go, promising a double helping at the end of the journey. His eyes filtered through the deep purple of determined obstinance, but readily enough came back to his usual battle orange quickly enough. “That’s my boy” Sheraith cooed as she buried her face on his warm neck.
The Hivemother asked that the Kova serve as the defenders of the Hive. In return, the Hivemother would breed all manner of useful creatures to help the Kova thrive. The first Lordfathers and Lordmothers of the Kova agreed, and the Bargain remains sealed in wax in the Hivemothers Shrine, preserved for all time so neither the Matrons nor the Kova forget their duty.
Kovafully,
Justin
