The first thing Beelzebub noticed was the chatter. After the group entered the town’s walls, she had snuck close enough to get a good view of the town from the depths of one of the lemon trees, for once, thanking her diminutive body that rivaled even Ben’s. And on the topic of that bee, the first thing he noticed was the sheer emptiness of the streets. Beelzebub had decent eyesight as well, but she preferred to use whatever sense was more useful in the moment.

Together, the sensations they took note of painted the town of Lemonholm in a gloomy light. People watched the unusual group of four, or, at least, the three humanoid individuals that were immediately noticeable, from the shadows of their houses, chattering amongst themselves loud enough to make it questionable whether they were shy or just plain odd.

“Every time it’s like this. Why can’t these people be a bit more hospitable?” Vlugh asked, nonchalantly tucking his arms behind his head. The others didn’t respond, already feeling the squeeze of hundreds of fearful gazes. What Beelzebub and Ben knew of Lemonholm was the contents of a brief B-mail, compiling the most important information in a neat package. It was a small town that bordered the north end of the Vultuous Forest, famed for two things: its lemon orchards and its superstitious populace. Most of the remaining information was simply the opinions held by humans or random facts that were the results of the two most notable features. Some time ago, the city had outlawed paved roads from coming anywhere near its political border. They also only dealt with certain merchant and mercenary companies, charged Yiwi exorbitant prices for lemons, and all in all, the place was a generally unpleasant locale to visit.

It was, in essence, a novelty. Nothing particularly important existed there, nobody important lived there, and worst of all, they didn’t like people from out of town. As a result, Beelzebub had absolutely no idea why Mom was going along with Grehn’s plan to ask them for additional food supplies.

Isn’t the food storage filling up anyway? Beelzebub thought. Maybe Mom’s preparing for when little miss Belle finally focuses on one thing and makes more honey. Or maybe Trice has more plans. She wanted to destroy this little town. Maybe that was a bit much. She wanted to rush into town and shake every person in it until they gave up all their food. Already, these mere minutes spent hiding in the tree were torture for her; she didn’t come up here to be stealthy!

“I’d like to speak with the Lord directly,” Grehn finally said, “but knowing him, he’ll come find us, regardless. Let’s go to a tavern or something.”

“Yes! Lemon juice!” Judging by his widening grin, Vlugh seemed happy with the plan. Ben, meanwhile, was happy to just look around, buzzing near rooftops to be as inconspicuous as possible. And Beelzebub continued to squirm, unaccustomed to the intricacies of stealth.

_______

“I remember Follo saying that the people here are fairly friendly with my kind, but it feels like the opposite is true.”

“In my experience, they’re probably nervous about Vlugh and I rather than you. And not just ‘cause we’re mercenaries; it’s purely because we’re outsiders,” Grehn whispered, taking another sip of lemon juice. The trio had made their way into a quaint tavern, followed discreetly by Ben, who was sitting very still in the rafters.

Looking around, Ben nearly laughed out loud, though such a feat was impossible for a bee. The humans in this town were hilarious. As soon as the group walked in, the patrons immediately went completely silent and had slowly scooted away until they were all up against the tavern’s walls, staring into the wood-lined stone. The bartender had pointedly ignored Vlugh’s pleas for lemon juice until Grehn slid a series of crumpled bits of metal, which turned out to be coins. The scrawny man ended up finally swiping away the coins and sliding three glasses the way of the travelers, with Elofan’s being noticeably closer to the size of the other patrons.

“So what now? You said the town’s Lord would come find us but…”

“No need to rush, Elofan,” Grehn said after another sip. “We’ve visited this place at least a couple times on business. Harven’s is one of the few mercenary companies that Lemonholm allows to enter its walls, so I’m confident I know how the City Lord will react to our presence. For now, let’s just wait here.”

“Yeah, Grehn’s right. How about you continue that story while we wait?” Vlugh said. Ben nearly laughed again when he saw how morose Vlugh looked, chin on the bar and empty glass rolling around in front of him. He had downed the entire drink in seconds, and since Grehn held the money, the bartender didn’t seem likely to provide a refill any time soon.

“Fine enough. I was on the part where Follo walked in on Enfla while she was making a courting gift for Feltan, right? Man, that was funny. I remember Follo swinging around, whooping like a wild beast while Enfla chased him through the village. She nearly killed him when she caught up! If you could have seen the look on her face when Feltan showed up, I swear. I’m pretty sure she still has the gift, too; she never ended up giving it to him. Can you believe that? The two of them are made for each, but the idiots keep putting things off for stupid reasons.”

Grehn and Vlugh glanced at each other, thinking of a certain pair they knew. Maybe they weren’t as ‘made for each other’ as Feltan and Enfla apparently were, but the idea of a bizarre relationship wasn’t as unusual for them as Elofan might have thought.

“I guess things have been legitimately crazy lately, though. Your Knights really screwed things over for us, you know? Do you know how long it took me to figure out how to make it rain again? Whatever asshole angered the sky has a power that shouldn’t exist,” Elofan said with a scowl.

Grehn and Vlugh glanced at each other a second time. The Burning had been brought up constantly by Elofan on their trek to Lemonholm, so her sentiments were nothing new. However, it was the first they’d heard of her being directly responsible for the reappearance of the rain.

“You were the one who brought the rain back?” Grehn said, full of newfound respect. “I heard one of the Royal Guard themselves caused that. It must’ve been a serious undertaking to perform a miracle like that when the fernen were in that state.”

“Oh man,” Elofan groaned, “tell me about it. Mind isn’t supposed to linger like that. I consider myself an expert on the matters of Mind when it comes to affecting nature, but whatever that ‘Guard’ of yours did is decidedly unnatural. In fact, it was directly opposed to nature. I was actually directly inspired by that to poison the river so we could take back an advantage and go into the forest.”

“Oh right, that was you, wasn’t it? Are you stupid?” Vlugh said, still slumped over the bar. “You do know our Rotor would have purified your poisons, right?”

“Of course. That was the point. It was actually an incredibly detailed plan I came up with, I tell you. Look here: you humans would purify the water, not knowing what the deal was. It was possible you’d assume the new rainfall was washing toxins into the river, and just ignore it, keeping your attention at home. Or, you’d investigate the forest to find the source, which was what I hoped for. See, the Highchief is completely focused on humans, but the lingering threat of whatever made the shroud disappear has been the most pressing thing on our Minds. My poison strategy had the goal of weakening the presence of that unknown threat. Either the poison itself would hurt them, or the humans who went into the forest to search for the poison’s source would encounter them. The rest is - or should’ve been - history. The mysterious danger in the forest would be weakened, the humans would be cautious, and we would have the chance to move back in and heal the forest. It was genius!” Elofan said. Despite her apparent excitement, she knocked back the rest of her drink in one go, as if to drown her sorrows.

“I would’ve gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for those meddling bees.”

“Yes, our… friends have proven to be extremely effective at making everything seem to go horribly wrong in any situation,” Grehn said, still sipping away. He was careful not to mention anything about bees, on the off chance someone might discern what he was saying. Elofan could get away with it, since the fernen language was so obscure that specific terminology wasn’t present in human translation, but the pair of humans had to be more cautious.

“Even so, everything can always be traced back to you humans. Are you sure you don’t know why those unnatural monsters of yours came to the forest and destroyed it? We still don’t understand it whatsoever. If they came for us, they could have destroyed us. That’s how powerful those ‘Guards’ were — even though we outnumbered them heavily, we stood no chance. But they let us flee. Same with the vultures. What were they thinking?”

“Like I said, we have no idea. It’s as much a mystery for us as it is for you lot. When we found out the actual Royal Guard was waiting at our doorstep, I was sure Yiwi would be razed to the ground, and we would never even find out why. Their actions didn’t up being much different.”

“They were scary, and I hate them,” Vlugh said slowly, “but the Guard seem more cool than ordinary knights. Did you see the way those assholes looked at me? Like I was a speck of dirt on their shoe. At least the Guard just ignored me. I can’t forgive them for destroying our orchards, though.”

Elofan pat Vlugh on his shoulder, while Grehn finally finished his drink and ordered another round, making Vlugh perk up. The three of them continued to chatter, and in the meantime, Ben and Beelzebub discussed their critical plans for the town.

“We should have a dance party.”

“Ben, I love the idea. That’s it, no other notes. Eh, Trice might not like it though. She said she’d kill me if I wasn’t stealthy enough.”

“Yeah…. But what else can we do? All Grehn wants to do is get these people to give us more food and pretend it’s for Yiwi. And this place is way smaller than that big city. I’ve pretty much looked at everything already.”

“That’s what happens when all you think about is looking, buddy. Don’t worry, Mom won’t let them drag this out too long. I guess we should just relax and eat lemons until the humans end up leaving.” Even as she said that, Beelzebub couldn’t help but snort. She was already so bored that she had half a mind to wander around the area, searching for monsters or mercenaries to play with. But the sight of a pair of glasses-like antennae made her shiver and hunker down. Why do I gotta be scared of her? I could totally take her on in a fight! Yeah, when I get back, I’ll challenge her. I bet she got a taste for battle after that little duel with Feltan.

Beelzebub had already grown bored with sparring, so even the thought of a duel didn’t quench her thirst. Her only real battle had been against Toh that one time, and it was a slaughter. The man simply wasn’t built to handle overwhelming power. Putting aside Beryl and Bend, who could offer only a modicum of challenge, her only real competition was Bedivere or her fellow Valkybees, but even then she was unsatisfied. They were strong, sure, but Belial was so enthused with improving his capability with guns and Beau’s technology, while Belphegora had become enthralled with politics and subterfuge. Behemoth was too meek, and Bedivere… he was a good match for Beelzebub’s constant bloodthirst, but he was still Bedivere. Though she couldn’t defeat him, he didn’t provide much in the way of variety. And even then, she could feel herself understanding his tactics and skills more and more, making the matches closer and closer. But if she never got into a real fight, she felt like she would be starving her spirit.

Just then, the door of the tavern swung open, forcing the already muted tavern to become eerily still. A man with a bushy brown beard that clashed against his smooth, boyish face walked in, flanked by three humans of varying shape and size, two women and one man. All of them wore identical uniforms, simple and clean suits of navy blue accented by identical turquoise scarves. Each also bore some type of weapon, with all four of them sporting at least one gun each. The first man was the shortest of the bunch, but he walked with the gait of a killer, and Beelzebub instantly tensed. She hadn’t seen them at all until they walked into the tavern and into Ben’s line of sight, and through his vision her gaze was stuck on the man in front, especially his simple, unadorned rifle and bayonet. Ben, meanwhile, noticed the twinkling silver medallions on their lapels, since they were so shiny and neat-looking. Especially that of the man in front, whose medallion was so exquisite it shamed most of the decorative pieces he’d ever seen in Yiwi.

“Freakin’ mercs! Freakin’ in my town! I didn’t call for you freaks, so what are you freakin’ doing here?” A voice cried out before anyone could break the silence. A fifth person shoved past the looming soldiers, revealing a wrinkled old man in disheveled yellow clothing. Grehn recognized him as the Lord of Lemonholm, and stood, ready to plead his case. However, the beareded soldier turned and began to speak in a calm tone before he had the chance.

“Now Mister Sawah, calm down. They’re just having a drink. If possible, could we continue our business? Having to follow you here on your whim was quite bothersome. I’m sure that whatever business the mercenaries have is important, but we were in the middle of a conversation.”

“They’re disrupting the town’s peace! First you freakin’ knights show up, now freakin’ mercs. I don’t know what terrible plot you lot are unfolding, but I tell you now, I won’t let you have your way! I want all of you out by this time tomorrow. End!” Lord Sawah said before abruptly turning and storming away.

The bearded soldier watched helplessly as the Lord left. “Meyara, could you please go and try to convince Mister Sawah to continue cooperating with us? He seemed to dislike you least of any of us.”

At his word, one of the women following him closed her eyes and took a deep breath before nodding and jogging away. The man sighed and made his way to the bar, tossing some coins down as he sat. Then he turned to the unusual trio next to him and extended his hand towards the still standing Grehn, who had stopped staring at the door and was now looking wide-eyed at the man’s lapel.

“How do you do? Unusual group you have here. A Riktish, a Drevan, even a fernen. Mercenaries, at least the humans. I’m Knight Commander Greyan. Nice to meet you.”

Grehn’s increasingly dry mouth didn’t allow him to swallow, but he did manage to extend a hand in turn before he whispered. “Yeah. Likewise.”