Work Text:
“For too long have the bees been defined by our simple way of life, our honey, our lack of valuable exports,” The Queen, Cocolia, announced from the top of the hive, her voice echoing around each of the many alcoves that constituted it. “My new decree, for the future of our hive, is for us to begin investing our work into beeswax. We shall use it, and sell it, to an extent greater than that of the Silkworms’ own silk!”
The group of workers and drones that had gathered around Cocolia’s plinth began to flap their wings in excitement, creating an incessant droning not unlike clapping. The bees however, did not think about the irrationality of the concept that their Queen had just proposed.
The neighbouring Silkworms had been known to be one of the greatest exporters of any substance in the entire forest due to the quality and versatility of their silk. Beeswax could be used as a substitute in many cases, and it was likely that most of the other animals in the forest would eagerly accept this new alternative, though attempting to outproduce the Silkworms was little more than a dream in the eyes of the bees.
However, that was Cocolia’s decree, so that was what would be done.
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Clara waved goodbye to her last friends and family, as they departed to work for the beeswax industry. As the last bees faded from her view, she found herself staring over the currently well-stocked honey cells that she had been left with. What was once a job to be performed by thousands of bees, was now to be performed by the small group of 100 workers that Cocolia had left to create honey.
The daunting task was made a little easier thanks to the unusually bountiful spring that coincided with Cocolia’s decree. Given they worked hard enough, there was enough pollen within a short radius around the hive, meaning they would be able to produce enough honey to feed them all.
It took a while after they had left for Clara to begin moving to her work, choosing to silently stand among the small crowd of bees that too froze with solace and dread. With an unfounded determination she flew away and began to tend to the stores of nectar that had been left untouched for a couple days. The now somewhat hollow swarm of bees slowly began to trail after her, finding their own place to work, and beginning to work the hardest they ever would.
In no small part thanks to the bountiful crop of flowers that year, the bees were able to produce enough honey to sustain the hive. According to the Drones, and even more so Cocolia herself, the harvests were actually greater than they were before due to the resources that they traded the newfound surplus of beeswax for.
Clara and the worker bees however, the ones responsible for the alleged surplus of honey that Cocolia was so quick to commend to the vigilance of her subjects, found themselves with the displeasure of being hungry more often than not. Even with the bumper crop, the few workers were unable to meet the demands of the hive as well as they could before, leaving much of the gathered nectar to rot in its cells.
Compounding upon the lack of workers that still created honey was another decree that Cocolia ordered. Even with the large workforce that had been taken away, the beeswax producers struggled to meet the monumental outputs of the Silkworms, and so it was decreed that all honey producers should make use of their cells that are not being used to produce honey, to instead create beeswax.
Immediately, Clara took to this request, allocating a section no larger than a fifth of her cells to start producing the illustrious substance. However, the already diminutive man hours and field space that the workers had left was stretched even thinner as they now began producing what had stolen away their friends and family.
However, that was Cocolia’s decree, so that was what would be done.
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For the first time since the workers initially went to produce solely beeswax, Clara’s determination that had been a model to workers who had their families taken away from them came into question. As the springtime ended, what was once their lifeline had gone away, and what was once mild hunger had escalated to starvation.
Due to further restrictions placed upon them by Cocolia, in an effort to “ Shape an Identity for our hive ”, and increase productivity, any formal events such as funerals were outlawed. The starved bodies of the unfortunately passed were placed into cells, and with a barely five second wake were sealed away, out of fear of prosecution.
Where she would once have continued working tirelessly through the grief, after the never ending news of more and more deaths, to the point where she was no longer surprised by the fact that some of her best friends had died, Clara found herself working less and less. In turn, the amount of food that was able to be produced slowed down, as workers died, and the ones that didn’t lost their last source of hope.
As less workers were able to tend the growingly smaller fields, honey production slowed even more. Cocolia had revoked the decree that requires honey-producers to produce beeswax in their cells as well, which along with the dwindling population of bees allowed the deaths due to starvation to slow, however it still had not returned to what it was before.
No more than a week later, the final impromptu ‘funeral’ would be held. Not for the last death, but for the last the workers would have any last determination to hold. Clara’s malnourished body was placed in her cell, the first one she had decided to tend. Without a word spoken from the depressed crowd, they flew their separate ways, for that was Cocolia’s decree.