When Kyrad realized he had successfully pulled the antenna from the queen’s skull, he didn’t have time to act surprised, as the queen shrieked, then began bumbling around, hitting the wall with its head as it twisted unnaturally. It looked as if two forces were moving the neck in different directions, tugging the tendons with rash movements.

Kyrad could hardly move, however, as he had been hurt badly when he was thrown into the wall. He couldn’t dodge when it crashed into the hive shell beside him then pointed its stinger at him. All he could do was slowly try to crawl away, his arms quivering under his weight.

When he realized the futility, he could only look back in fear as bees began to swarm him, and the queen readied to end it all.

Crack!

The sound of glass shattering beside him woke him from his fear, and a white liquid began to evaporate on the floor, shrouding him in gas. Jakal had returned to help and was looking down at him with panic, standing in the exit they’d come from.

But even then, the queen shot at him.

And missed. At the last second, its tail twitched to the right, burying the stinger far away.

Then, it began to crawl towards him.

Its mandibles opened to grasp him, then...

The queen stopped and slowly scuttled away.

It was apparent that the queen’s life was destined to end, even though the plague had lost its control over her. The queen moved through the fire at the bottom of her nest, then lethargically dug through the poison-riddled honey with her mandibles, eventually pulling a single, fist-sized egg from it and laying it outside the liquid.

Jakal slid down the wall and quickly made his way to Kyrad. Though a few bees hadn’t given up on killing the intruders, he easily outpaced them and made his way into the repellent’s mist.

“Are you alright, Kyrad?”

“Maybe a-” Kyrad wheezed, before lurching upward and coughing out blood. “Bit of a broken rib but, uhh...I’ll make it.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear. Any idea what’s happening outside? I heard some ungodly explosions...”

Kyrad chuckled, shrugging as best as he could while he began to lay down

“Hmm...” Jakal looked between Kyrad and the now still queen bee.

Kyrad’s magma stone had stopped burning his arm, but its use had clearly burnt his right hand like, well, magma...or lava; Jakal didn’t really care about grammar. The swollen, reddish parts of Kyrad’s arm had been spared from the stone’s wrath, but most of his hand had been charred white and red by the wristband’s fire, and probably wouldn’t heal for some time.

“This is gonna hurt, boy,” he said, squatting then creeping his hands towards the wristband. “I’ll take this off real quick, then we can bathe that burn.”

Kyrad smiled, glancing at his hand. “Oh, don’t worry about me. It doesn’t sting at all.”

His mentor smiled grimly. “That’s all the more reason to be...” He blinked, then rolled his eyes, vehement. “Goddamnit, man. Enough with the fuckin bee puns! If it really doesn’t sting at all, I guess I can just-” He ripped the magma stone off kyrad, causing the hunter to yelp and cough, squirming in pain.

“OW-owowowow, please...oh...by the forsaken god that hurt.”

“I’m sure it hurt less than your stupid jokes do,” Jakal replied. “Can I borrow your jacket?”

“Sure, sir?”

After some trial and error, Jakal managed to get the obsidian-plated jacket off Kyrad and put it over his apiarist’s suit. Then, he began to carefully climb down to the bottom of the hive, which was burning to cinders. He stepped beside the queen and patted its head, feeling the strong, slick exoskeleton that protected it. She was perfectly still and possibly already dead, considering she had a gaping hole in her brain and was a burning, injured corpse by that point.

“Not a pleasant sensation, is it? Or maybe you can’t feel pain since you’re a bug.” Jakal looked between the queen and its egg, contemplative. “Nah, I know your kind. You went out of your way to save the next generation from that plague, and I think that’s pretty admirable.” He sighed. “I wish we still had rulers like you, rulers who still gave a shit about the world that’s burning all around them.”

Above, bees fluttered about, flying away as the room was smoked out. Soon, both he and Kyrad would have no choice but to follow them or suffocate.

“But that’s the unfair thing. Yharim, our ‘lord’, is alive, and you’re dead. I remember stalking you before that plaguebringer lobotomized you. To be honest I considered robbing you for what you were worth. Burn the nest, take the honey, and kill the queen for her high-quality chitin...but I said to my buddies that I wasn’t gonna poach a great bee without a good reason. Ends up that, since I didn’t kill ya, a bigger bee came and made you a monster...” He kneeled down to face the bee’s eye, staring at it with an expressionless, taut face. “So, what I’m trying t’ say is that it’s my fault that plaguebringer came to your nest and destroyed Temple City, at least if you ask me.”

He leaned down and picked up the egg, which had nearly caught alight, the threads protecting its insides glowing red. He held it out, like he was presenting an artifact to the world. “And now, the choice has come again. Do I spare your next generation, or end your vulnerable race myself...”

“But that’s the thing. More than I want to spit on your grave...I don’t want to.”

He smiled, then cradled it in his arms, fire burning all around him.

“It’s a fucking cruel world out there, yet we never stop telling tales of the fools with compassion.”

“So this is me...”

Mage slumped over Ethir’s truncated body, a measure of disgust on her face.

“Yep,” Mage responded to the dead man, calm and emotionless. “It is.”

Ethir sighed in their head, somehow. “I guess this is it. I’ll go down to the underworld, and...hopefully, someday I’ll visit the stars. Do you know what happens down in the underworld?”

Mage shrugged. “Nope. I don’t know how to revive you either. Sis might be able to, though.”

“You mean the great witch, right? You’re her clone or something like that?”

“Yeah, I guess. I killed my other sister on accident, though.”

“Well shit, that sucks...but I guess you don’t feel sadness or whatever, huh.”

“No...I guess I...I sort-of do? Maybe? I don’t really know,” Mage responded, a little more contemplative than usual.

“Why do I even give a damn...Well, it’d be awkward t’ meet those two after I’m already dead, so you can send me down the pit again. I’m all outta rage, anyway, so I couldn’t help you out.”

“Thanks for the help!”

“No problem. I don’t know how the heck you work, but if you need help again, I doubt I’d mind being resurrected every once in a while...what a world I live in.”

Mage chuckled. “You’re not used to being revived?”

“I don’t even know how to respond to that. Now end this ‘revivification’ thing, I’m feeling something creepy squirming in my soul already.”

“Ok, ok, see you later.”

“Uhh, yeah. I’ll see you in hell, heh. And make sure you bury me properly!”

Mage chuckled, then let go of his spirit, letting Ethir fall back down the pits of Tartarus.

She zipped down the tunnel to make sure the other hunters were alright, and naught but a second later stopped at the entrance to the bee hive’s core. The whole room was beginning to fall apart, fire spreading all across it, laying waste to the wood and wax. Laying dead at the bottom was the queen bee’s corpse. Not far below the entrance, Jakal was struggling to climb Kyrad out of the room.

When she saw them, she called down. “Do you two require help?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” Kyrad responded, hobbling up with the help of Jakal’s lent shoulder.

As soon as he said it, Mage flew to them, grasped the two men in her arms, then was back up to the entrance to let them down half a second later. “Are you two in fit condition?” she asked immediately as they lurched in disorientation.

“U-oooh...” Jakal said, woozy from the sudden movement. “N-no, Kyrad could use some help. He got knocked real hard by the queen.”

“I-I’m fine,” Kyrad insisted, his voice drifting as he tried to stand, dizzy. “You don’t need to carry me or anything. Also, you’re really strong.”

Mage smiled like he’d said something amusing. “You saw me catch a plague nuke earlier, right? You should already know that.”

“Mmmm, I guess I di-” Kyrad began, before suddenly being lifted over Mage’s shoulders like a sack of potatoes. “I said I was alrigh-” He suddenly coughed, spitting some blood out and cringing in pain.

“See?” Jakal said, raising his eyebrows in amusement as mage casually trotted forward with the squirming hunter in her arm. “I said you were seriously hurt.”

“I swear...” Kyrad said, his voice hoarse. “Mage was just too rough...”

“Too bad, too sad!” she responded, her inability to understand what ‘sad’ even meant making the phrase all the more aggravating.

Kyrad wanted to snap a snarky comment, but he only sighed, too exhausted to argue. “Fine...” he finally said. “But I guess that means you’ll be dragging Ethir back.”

Jakal cringed. “Oh man...” he began, before trailing off, uninterested in disrespecting his dead comrade. “It’s gonna be a long walk back...”

Mage scratched her head in an oblivious manner. “O-oh! Of course I can...” she suddenly switched her tone to something less befitting of her cheerful self. “I guess I can carry you all.”

That got a chuckle out of the other two.

It really made her happy to see other people laugh.

2 Days Later

“In the crucible of stars, may his soul rest upon the reckoning of a new age. For those who once held him dear, shall they sleep their eternal slumber with him, satisfied. When the lord of stars rises again, we pray that the future he sought will be found and that his legacy will live within the star eternal. For the warrior we have lost, we pray;”

The few who joined Ethir’s funeral said in unison: “Vivere in Astrum Deum.”

Five people kneeled before a spike of brown and red rock, which glowed a dim red under the night’s darkness. The graveyard surrounding it was packed with graves, though not many were marked with names or given much detail. Not many were willing to waste their time on graves, with the state of the city, which the graveyard was just outside of.

Mage, Jakal, and Kyrad had attended the funeral, of course, alongside Kiary, despite Kyrad’s insistence that she should continue to rest at their home. The final person in attendance was an Astrite priest, who was adorned in blueish grey clothes lined with tungsten, which glowed faintly under the night sky.

Mage looked a bit fidgety, like a child who didn’t know what they should be doing, and was the first to rise to her feet after the chant. Then, Jakal stood and wiped the nonexistent mud and dust off his ragged jeans, just about as aimless as the girl. No matter how many funerals he attended, he never felt less uncomfortable. When Kyrad and Kiary met eyes, they knew to stand together without speaking. Surprisingly, it was the sick one who had to hold the other sibling up, as Kyrad’s injuries still hadn’t healed.

When he saw everyone had stood, the priest did the same then faced the group with a solemn nod. “Thus ends another bloodline, retaken by the earth. I thank each of you, First Hunters, for your service. Though you haven’t become a martyr like Ethir, you have killed the blight laid upon Temple City, so you have my gratitude and everyone else’s as well.”

Jakal nodded with a satisfied but reserved expression, while Kyrad sighed, then smiled. Kiary tried to make the same expression, but when Mage said, “No problem!” without reading the mood at all, she couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity.

“Well,” the priest began, a bit more lighthearted. “You First Hunters have saved the city twice, now. I understand that nearly nine years have passed since the plague was unleashed, and new hunters have taken the place of the last...or, well, I guess all that’s left of your new recruits is you, Kyrad, and perhaps your strange mage, but I honestly, to the bottom of my heart believe your order will not die quite yet.”

Jakal smirked. “What, are you saying more young people are gonna throw themselves at death for a chance at glory?”

The priest shrugged. “If that’s the way you see it, yes. With the plaguebringer gone, we can finally rebuild. It has felt like an age since people cared to improve their lives, for we’ve all been in fear of losing it all to the plague again. You are a hero, Jakal, just like your comrades. Don’t forget that.”

The old man laughed heartily, though with a twinge of melancholy. “I’m all too aware of who I am, Jaagon. Perhaps...” He looked at Mage and Kyrad. “Perhaps We really could use some help. What do you think, Kyrad? Should we recruit a few more people? We’ve got plenty of high-grade titanium to arm em’ with, now that we’ve knocked down the nest.”

“Wait...” Kyrad said. “You aren’t thinking what I’m thinking, are you?”

Mage looked between the two with confusion, curious.

“Maybe we can kill a few more of those abominations, huh?” Jakal asked. “Throw our lives on the line to help a few people.”

The other hunter nodded his head, smirking. “Just what I was thinking, old man!” The two hunters slapped their hands together, and gripped tight in understanding.

“U-uhh...what’s going on?” Mage asked.

“Oh, it’s just soldier stuff,” Kiary said.

“I’m a soldier too!” Mage said before interrupting their handshake with her own hand.

Kyrad shrugged, then fell limp, falling back into his sister’s arms. “Yeah, I guess we’ll need you too, Mage...we should give you a real name, though.”

“What name then?”

“How about...uhh...fire’s your whole theme so...yeah, that’s it! What about Ignia? What do you think about that name?”

The mage shrugged. “It sounds way cooler than Mage! Also, I’ll take anything that’s not a literal word for a name!” Ignia said, bouncing on her toes excitedly.

“Sounds good to me. Then you’re Ignia, newest member of the First Hunters,” Jakal said. “Listen up, y’all. We’re gonna gather all the fighters we can, throw some quality-ass weapons into their hands, and we’re gonna show those fuckin’ plaguebringers what it really means to bring waste!”

Everyone cheered, and the priest smiled nostalgically.

“While we’re at it,” Jakal said, “How about we also add ‘kill the fuckin’ goliath queen too. Save our lil’ Kiary too, eh?” he scruffed the weak girl’s hair.

They cheered again and began to walk down the graveyard path, chatting about how they would proceed and what they’d do once their plan finally got up and running.

One person remained at the grave, however, staring into the distance with a calm expression.

Ignia smiled at something hidden in the darkness of the night, invisible. “Is that you watching, big sister?”

...

“I’ll see you one day, one way or another. So if that really is you, you better keep watching.”

She reluctantly jogged back to the group, joining their hopeful conversation as a sense of ease fell on her mind.

But somehow, despite everything, she felt fear for the first time. Something fundamental to existence, something that went beyond physical emotions. Now that she finally felt at ease, unease just as surely crept upon her.

Would it all be taken from her, just like her other sister had been?

She didn’t understand what had come upon her, but it was quite normal. Happiness and fear were a package deal, just as sadness and hope were. Anything a person could keep could be taken away, and anything a person could lose could be found again.

And perhaps one day, Ignia would grow to truly understand that.