What felt like years of muddy visions was, in fact, a single shock of a microsecond long. Wolfheze fell on his back, and so the bee — stupidly so, rolled on itself backwards three or four times. The blonde's hand was numb and tingly, and the rings around his eyes grew a smudge darker. The puerile grunted and persisted in facing the wall, ignoring the presence of the two.
'Sir Wolfheze!' Called the bee.
'Yes, yes, Safir, I am in pain.'
'Did you see anything?'
The blonde recollected what he saw in the vision, and it made him uneasy. He looked at the self-huddling alopecic, and she had never been this helpless in her entire life through the worlds she ventured into. He now fully accepts the insanity of Arnitikós, and he is unsure if it is worth it to end her miserable life or leave her be. He tried earlier, but it disgusted him immensely; Elias wouldn't do that.
The bee saw the frustration in his eyes, and it grew to be confused and helpless; no matter how much the man would bargain with this mass of deterioration, he would never achieve what he had just started seeking: justice for the Annular blunder.
'Safir,' called Wolfheze, 'may I kill you?'
The bee flew cowardly to a safe distance away, 'No, Sir.'
'This has been the most real-felt dream I've ever had. Do bees dream, Safir?' Asked the blonde.
'What is to dream, Sir?'
'Her, were you sucked into her mind, too?'
'I. . . I can barely remember things.'
'To dream is to see visions in your slumbers, Safir. You know, Safir, the earliest dream I remember is of green rods coming up from the ground. Back in my home, Elpis, there were no trees. No greenery — only rocks!' He snapped at the end as he recalls the days devoid of ice to mine.
'We wouldn't be able to live there.' Said the bee.
'A friend once told me my kind's original home was of great forests and jungles. I've heard there were oceans, but in his time, that was long gone.'
The bee glanced at the puerile, 'What about her, Sir?'
'She may look like me, but she is not of us! As if you would not compare yourself to, say — the fireflies!'
A voice called from the first canal in the cave's entrance, 'Do not hurt Simianette. She's our only hope to rebuild the colony!'
Safir recognised the voice, one of Queen Fiora's remaining advisors, 'And what to ours?' He yelled back.
'You've got your giant; we may have ours.' The voice offered.
Wolfheze treaded carefully to the still-lamenting Arnitikós and replied quietly as he approached her, 'Perhaps we should stop being subjects to the problematic bugs and seek your sanity.' He then tapped on her shoulder softly this time. It did not hurt; she only clenched her entire body in fear. This made him feel pitier than ever, this weak girl on the ground, seeking safety in a cavern's cranny.
Although the faces of his former fellowship constantly flashed before his eyes with the sight of the puerile, perhaps one or two of his gone friends would approve of ending her life while the rest opposed. The dilemma of killing or sparing the life of a former cosmic tyrant who caused the extinction of Mankind had initiated a battle within the confines of Wolfheze's damaged psyche. He nudged her once more. She looked back at him but was overwhelmed with fear and imagination of another strangulation spree. Whimpering and crying, the sounds alerted the bee.
'Sir! It may be unwise to upset the girl for the moment.' Said Safir, then attended to the fireflies' nagging, addressing them, 'No! Not after you all made a fool of me and triggered the gone King to launch a full-scale assault on your colony, now, isn't that foolish? I am but a puny ambassador appointed to relay messages to your court, and now I have nothing!'
The blonde hushed at the scared feral girl, but it wasn't fruitful. He wanted to tell her he wouldn't harm her, but she wouldn't understand.
'Oh right.' He smiled softly, and then his face turned pale at the thought. 'This is the only option. Oh, lend me your strength, Elias.'
The blonde quietly recited,
'I channel my roots to the pulse of light. Deep within the galaxies of my mind.'
And he felt the metaphysical trigger and touched her alopecic scalp, relaying the feeling of equanimity; "I will not hurt you."
She felt it and turned back. It was the face of a man having his eye rings darkening beyond healing. She felt safe; this calm face of Wolfheze now seemed familiar to her to ease her previous dread.
'Ooo. . . aaaaaah. . .!' Her eyes widened ever slightly as she placed her palm over his cheek, signalling a sense of faint familiarity towards the man.
They stood up, and she was zoned out. She was trying to think for the first time in ages but could only feel the intense hunger within her stomach.
The trio walked out of the cave, opposed by the Queen and several of her last surviving minions and advisors. To them, Arnitikós looked safe and slightly content.
'What have you done to our Simianette!' The Queen snapped.
'She is not yours.', Wolfheze diffused, 'And I've known her from another world.' Wolfheze replied sternly, and Safir-Flavum's face turned into a disgusting smug as the blonde turned them down, knowing he'd crush them thinly if they bothered him and the puerile again.
He added, 'And now, you will move aside and rebuild your home. As for me and the girl, we will venture through this world and seek salvation.' He walked till he faced the Queen. The bee sat on his head, and the puerile held Wolfheze's right hand.
'Fly away.' He demanded.
The remaining fireflies moved away and let the three pass. The spiteful insects observed as the trio walked till they crossed the river and disappeared beyond the horizon.
'We failed you, m'lady.' Said one of the advisors.
The Queen was silent.
'Beyond the river and the hill,' said an elite fighter, 'they'll face the spreading plague of the Mavro, and animals of ferocity and disdain.'
'The Darkness Incarnate,' added the Queen, 'will not pass on the oddity of these two in this world. Sisters, we shall rebuild our home and foresee the inevitable spread of said plague, and for that, we must prepare for the eternal darkness that will hover over Sciriala.'