The Scribe

Mind Like A Hive – Part 5

March 13, 2017

Alrighty, fresh week, fresh start.  I’m going to get this post knocked out (roughly a thousand words), then I’m going to go downstairs and edit my heart out.  Hopefully in just a figurative sense, I can’t imagine having my heart leave my chest would be good for my health: That’s in enough question as it stands!

So with Mind Like a Hive, I want to try and give a better grasp on the sheer scale of the conflict going on around Sheraith.  Her Hivemother is in serious trouble, and a cabal of her opponents have decided it’s time for her reign to end so that she can be replaced with a new hivemother who is more inclined to lean their direction, if not replace them with an outright sycophant.

It’s an interesting dynamic, and definitely allows for a great deal of tension within the story itself.  The conflict is vast, covering a full third of the entire flower (a neat idea if I do say so myself… and I do… say so… myself.  *cough*).  Even though the Kova  are very small in stature (think about 2.75 feet, or roughly one meter), they are fierce warriors.  They have a long, deep tradition of fighting to protect their Hivemother, and they follow their directives without question.  I’m going to begin going over the entire bargain at the start of each piece of the story, so it’ll definitely build some more context that the Kova operate under during the conflict.

With that in mind, I’d like to go ahead and dive into the next story piece.  I’ve been working on it in my head for most of the weekend, and I’m excited to get it on paper.  That’s a fun part of developing my skills as an author: even on the days I’m not writing, I’m still writing in my head.  That’s pretty cool, not gonna lie.

Without further mental acrobatics…

Mind Like a Hive, Part 5

 The Bargain, Line 1

No Kova shall be bound to a Hive, by force of arms or by treaty.  A Kova may leave a Hive or join any new Hive, at any time, with the full blessing of the Hivemother.

 It was with a heavy heart that Sheraith Bohigdon forced Guyver to bank towards the forward command post.  She had seen the vast line of Hive El’yntis bowing dangerously under the combined weight of The Trio.  Even though Hive El’yntis was a thousand years famed for it’s ground superiority from Hivemother El’yntis’ efforts to engineer the perfect war mount, it was still on the brink of collapse.  In cluster after cluster, the enormous, three meter tall hulking behemoths of the war-beasts let out their trumpet cries of wounded outrage.  There’s only so much their hides and armor can do about the numbers…
Even though the Trio was a cabal of the three smallest hives on all the Flower, they still outnumbered El’yntis three to one.  Plus, there’s the minor matter of Family Bohigdon’s defection, and the war-beasts on the other side because of it.  It still shamed Sheraith to her core whenever she thought of it.  Even though the Kova always had the right to leave any Hive, honor and principle were the cornerstone of Kovan society.  A Kova would no more abandon a longtime Hivemother who hadn’t seriously wronged them than the Flower would begin to rock to and fro as it floated along the endless river.  That the Trio had managed to convince the entire Bohigdon council to abandon El’yntis was a disgrace, as well as a major strategic coup.  
A war-beast and it’s company of five Kovan dragoons went under from the combined might of a teal and royal blue clad beast.  Sheraith’s nostrils flared, and her eyes flashed over with the dangerous red of blood-lust.  Guyver chirruped in alarm as she tried to make him dive the small company, her hands flying towards her bow with lethal intent.  At the last moment, Guyver snapped them out of her reckless dive, and towards the command tent.  He warbled and chirped at her in accusing tones, and her desire to slay her traitorous family was replaced with shame at having risked General Hawthorne’s orders to her heedless actions.  She patted Guyver to let him know she was sorry, and he didn’t shake his head too much in his victory.  Sheraith snorted and cuffed his chitin anyway, and Guyver’s high nasal chuffing laughter filled Sheraith like fine drink as he came in for a landing on the small space made ready for him by exhausted looking squires.  Everyone here looks as haggard as if they’ve been on the line this whole battle.  Who knows, they probably have been.
One squire, able to heave himself upright after catching his breath the fastest, saluted with fist to chest. “Squire Bartlath reporti… oh thank goodness it’s you Aunty!  Do we have new orders from the General then?”  Limping and hurt as she was, Sheraith still pulled her young niece into a fierce hug.  “Thank the Matron you’re alright Barty.  Go fetch the forward colonel, and be quick about it!”  Barty sped away, bounding off like a racing stag-bug towards the command tent.  A grimly smiling Sheraith trailed along in her wake, limping slightly as she patted her message satchel, preparing to send hundreds of Kova to the embrace of the Matron as they tried to save as many of their comrades as they could.
Bartyfully,
 Justin

 

Teller of tales. Horrible liar. Fair hand at video games and card games.

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