The Bee Dungeon

Vanieskon glared up at Mischief’s disembodied sneer. Her initial instinct was to reject him with all her might. She was the pixie queen! Her ancestors had carved the land of the fair out of the world and then told the gods no when they wanted it back! She bowed to no one, she let no one save herself control any pixie! She would not surrender their fate over to anyone, least of all the gods!

Besides, there was every chance Mischief couldn’t break through the God of Light’s protections even if she did submit, the God of Light was always more popular among the mortals than he was. She’d likely have to find another way regardless.

So, she considered the alternatives. Perhaps she could wrap up the Tower Guards in layers of subtle illusions, slowly warping their perception until they lost all grasp on reality? Perhaps she could use healing and emotion magic to gently soothe the Tower Guards, making them feel good until they grew physically addicted to her presence? Or perhaps using words was the way forward, all she had to do was convince a guard to sign a single contract and then no direct corruption would be necessary. If she appeared to them as an acolyte of the gods, perhaps they’d be more inclined to do as she said?

But…all of these methods would take time and focus, time and focus she could not spare. She was not trying to sway one mortal champion from their quest, she was trying to build an army. Her charm magic was a careful construct of glamours, illusions, emotion, and even healing magic designed to draw out the target’s deepest desires and so bring them to her side with a promise they’d prioritize over everything else, all while quietly and subtly shifting their perception to view her as an ally. It was the work of many centuries, her pride and joy. And it was supposed to be able to charm, or at least significantly break down the resistance of, any mortal in a single instant.

It was also the only method that was fast enough to charm an entire hostile army in the heat of battle.

So, if she resorted to another method, she may be able to grab a few Tower Guards…but not enough. She wouldn’t have anything approaching an army by the time this war was done. She’d still be at the mercy of her current allies.

Perhaps an infiltration could work? If she could disguise herself amongst the ranks of the coup and gain the ear of their Tower Lords, she could focus all of her efforts onto a handful of targets. Sway the Tower Lord and she would sway all those sworn to their service. She wouldn’t even need to rebuild their Towers in that case, letting them continue to rule in her name.

But that had its own hurdles and its own costs. The fact was, she was unfamiliar with the culture and structure of the Conclave, too unfamiliar to guarantee a quick infiltration. It would take her time to determine the optimal approach and what sort of anti-deception methods each Tower Lord employed. Additionally…she had to assume that any anti-corruption protections extended to the Tower Guard must also extend to the Tower Lord, as the God of Light would not have left a dungeon’s biggest vulnerability unaddressed. The gods would even revive dungeon masters from the dead, a boon the God of Death rarely ever permitted! So, why wouldn’t they also intervene to break any hold a third party gained over their most valued champions?

And that was what brought her to her current dilemma. The protection on those related to dungeons was not a static spell she could find a way to bypass at leisure. It was developed and maintained by the gods…so she would be battling against them as active opponents.

Queen Vanieskon of the Pixie Court may hold contempt for the gods’ authority…but she did not doubt their power. A reality made all the more clear by the fact that Mischief, a god traditionally lacking in overt power compared to many others, could suppress her magic so easily. His divine authority, should he choose to spend it, could simply overwrite reality. He did not just defy physical and magical laws, he redefined them as he pleased.

If Vanieskon was going to stand up to the Conclave in the long run, she needed power on the same level. She either needed to surpass the protections on dungeon defenders and charm herself an army…or she needed to empower herself and the fair folk enough to not need one.

Because if she had neither…memories came to her unbidden. Memories of a time from before she was queen, before she had developed her charms. When she, Henilett, and…another, flew and danced over the fields as they pleased, laughing without a care in the world. When they played and befriended mortal and fair alike.

Until the day they were betrayed. Until the day a human that they had loved locked away her best friend behind cold iron…and she and Henilett had been utterly powerless to stop it.

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The day she resolved to make the word pixie strike fear into the hearts of mortals.

And she had succeeded…until now, when the protection of the dungeons made even the average human soldier immune to her strongest weapon. She could still manipulate them, she could still give them the runaround…but she was now their peer. One power among many, rather than an inconceivable force of nature. Someone who could be resisted, countered…and dealt with.

Someone who could not protect all the pixies by reputation alone.

Vanieskon clenched her fists. She saw what Mischief’s game was. He was drawing out her greatest fears and deepest desires, just as her charms had done to so many mortals before. She nearly rejected him for that insult alone.

But, unfortunately, knowing what he was doing did not change what her greatest fears and deepest desires actually were. Nor did it change what options she had left to fulfill them.

Her first choice was for Finnakynne to become greater than she ever was, a demigod queen of trickery that everyone, whether mortal or divine, would have to respect…but that game was finished. Finnakynne had rejected her teachings utterly, completely intent on making the same exact mistake her mother had made all those years ago. Finnakynne would not learn until it was too late.

So, Vanieskon had only one choice left to keep her daughter and her people safe. She trembled and ground her teeth against each other…and then lowered her head.

“…fine. You win, you gods have all finally won. Do with me what you please, place me in your cage, make me your slave. Just…spare the pixies this fate and help me to protect them. Give me the power I need to keep them safe, to put these mortals in their place and ensure none of them will ever think of harming a pixie.”

Mischief’s disembodied smile made a grin full of teeth.

“Wise choice, queen of the pixies. I will greatly enjoy your service. Now, as my first command…as the price you shall pay for our bargain…”

Vanieskon closed her eyes and braced herself. The God of Mischief had dropped his mask, for he had no need of it any longer. The game was over, he had her at his mercy and they both knew it. Countless years of dancing around each other, of probing and prodding, of manipulation pitted against manipulation and he had finally come out on top.

But she would endure anything to ensure the mortals dreaded to approach her people.

The shadows approached her, wrapping all around her and extinguishing the light. The temple fell away, Vanieskon found herself in a pitch-black void, where she could see nothing but the God of Mischief’s disembodied smile. She was now alone with a god, subject to the full might of his authority. She was caught in his cage, one stronger and deeper than any construct of cold iron.

“…I want you to…”

She could not help a shiver as his smile approached her, the only thing she could see in the darkness. She held her breath…the moment approached…

And then the darkness vanished all at once, letting the light of the temple bathe over her. The God of Mischief turned back into his familiar young man form…and booped her on the nose with his finger.

“…go home and give Finny a hug!”

Vanieskon blinked. Mischief crossed his arms and puffed out his cheeks.

“I mean, seriously, Vanie! When was the last time you hugged her? You were supposed to give her twice as many hugs since I couldn’t give her any until now! I know you were afraid overt affection would make her develop a weakness others could exploit, but that’s the point! If you don’t have any obvious weaknesses, how can you bait people into traps? You’ve even tricked yourself and done the self-fulfilling prophecy thing where your desire to make her immune to mortal charms has caused her to throw herself at the first human to show her kindness! Lucky you Beely is actually a good person, which Finny can sense, you know? That’s the truly ironic part of it, the thing that makes her reject your lessons also means she was never in any danger in the first place! You never needed to toughen her up! You just hurt her for your own fears!”

Vanieskon’s mind had gone blank while Mischief continued to rant.

“And furthermore, what exactly did you expect from me, Vanie?! Not everyone who has even the slightest leverage over you is going to do terrible things to you, Vanie! I thought we knew each other better than that, Vanie! Did all our time together mean nothing, huh?! If you really seduced me, then shouldn’t you have known I actually liked you?! It’s ok to trust a person or two without a thousand-page magical compact signed in triplicate, Vanie! Look, even I still have people who trust me and whom I trust!”

Vanieskon couldn’t reply as Mischief muttered to himself.

“Granted, those people are Bee, who just met me, Beely, who’s entirely too trusting, and Finny, who’s my own daughter, but still…anyways! So, that’s my condition! Go and give Finny a hug, show her some actual affection for once, free of tricks or lessons, and I’ll give you a blessing or something. Then we can spend forever together once you tire of this mortal coil!”

Mischief then gave her a hug, gently patted her cheek, and then started ascending back up towards the ceiling of the temple.

“Well then, I’ll see you around, Vanie! Oh, by the way, if you really want to protect the pixies, just get the Oracle of Light to swear something to that effect. That woman is obsessed with her god, she will stop at nothing to fulfill any oath she swears in Light’s name. She also has the Butcher of Blackwood wrapped around her finger, the respect of nearly every living human, and the biggest dungeon in the world with a patron god that adores her, so yeah, get her on your side and you’re good to go. Ok now, bye!”

And then he was gone, leaving Vanieskon alone. And for the first time in millennia, her strength failed her, and her legs gave out. She sat at the floor, staring up at the God of Mischief’s statue and blinking repeatedly.

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