Stories of the Forest Life

The Beetle King

The Horn-like crown that sat on the round head of the Beetle king reflected the suns light back onto his people in front of him , as he stood on the robust  almost podium like balcony that was carved into the oak tree.  Silence grew all around the trees , along the gold leaf littered floor , like a seed planted by hope , or even god itself. And God to the beetles was the light of the day , the heat that nursed the plants from seedlings to flowers  ,  and the warmth that saw the beetles from larvae to death.

"My brethren , my people , the light of our lives has been generous "

His shiny carapace was littered in robes of reds and golds , two hooked arms clutching the balcony , a second pair holding his robes and the last shared between the hand of his daughter and wife . They shone a wondrous green , contrasting against the blunt black of their Father and Husband , their King.  The people looked up in both respect , and patience , desperate for news yet understanding of his role. Not just to inform , but to listen .

"The Great Light heeds us a warning , not as its worshipers but as its children"

Great big eyes of black flicked      and fluttered up at the ruler ,  first confusion before the awes of shock could be heard . The balcony was low to the ground , the King could of had his balcony half way up the great log , hell he could of had it at the very top. 'What would that prove' he pointed out to himself every time his green-jeweled queen or the equally beautiful princess had complained. To which they quickly understood what the King had spent their lives teaching them. He was a wise , wise King.  'A king should be like an equal , an equal with a nice hat' he often joked to his Wife. But this was not a time for jokes.

"The Light isn't always clear with its messages , but we musn't focus on what we don't know , but more of what we do."

There was silence

"There will be a war."

The silence was stripped away as quick as it was earned.  Suddenly he wasn't a wise king but a stupid one , not a ruler but an Oppressor. Oh how quick the chess pieces fall , even after the game is over.   Screams and shouts in anger  , shrieks in over-exaggerated fear , boos in a chance of rebellion were all silenced by a single raised arm of their King.

"There will  be war"

He repeated. " Consider us lucky that the almighty light has beckoned this news. We have time to prepare. To stop the unstoppable. It can be done , not through anger but thought. " The thousands of beetles under the rule of the Beetle king simply looked up.  A moment of weakness , restored by wise words from a wise King. All words are wise from whomever is considered in their day and age as wise. Which in this day , and this age , was the Beetle King . An applause wasn't necessary , silence was more then an applause was ever worth.

The next few days the Beetles prepared. Wood for nesting was now for artillery , Flowers for crafting and uniforms . The word had spread quickly however , the Hornets convinced that the war would be the cause of the beetles , so they prepared. The Spiders sure that the war would be of effect of the hornets , and so they prepared.  Before long every species with some link to the Beetle Kingdom was prepared , negotiations to stop the teetering seesaw of war were all in vain , each side far too cautious that the other side would attack once they had their weapons lowered , Each side fully aware that the Beetle Kings word from the Light was practically law. There would be a war , that was certain , for the Light had told the King. The king told his people , and his people told other people , and soon what was whisper of war became a lock of trade , conversation and trust. Food was rationed , seeing as trading was at a forced halt , and conscription quickly ensued . 

The queens graceful hand held the carapace shoulder of not her king but her husband , before snapping back to the reality that he is  her king.

"My dearest , why must you be so dismayed? We are prepared , armed to the teeth , when war breaks out we surely hold victory" she spoke with an alloy of confidence , cockiness , and yet somehow hidden from most was love. Their was lust somewhere in the queen , past the robes of velvet and silk , past the crown and the riches that came with it , past the hard carapace of her body ,  there was love. And yet all that filled the Wise Beetle King was worry and dread. His people would eventually starve , their numbers had halted , and life was no more then a war in itself.  "This is misery. Just..misery" Muttered the Beetle king to his Beetle Queen.

Weeks later the weary and weak Beetle King once again grasped the edge of the balcony. His Daughter by his side but his wife's usual space empty. A look of grief was stapled to them both.

"The queen is dead. "

The usual audience of thousands had slowly slipped to bare hundreds. And even those looked to taking the sympathetic hand of death.

The kings tired face slowly rotated to watch the setting sun.

"The light has lied. And the cost of that..cannot ever...ever  be repaid ."

A new emotion filled the Beetle kings voice , one that he vowed to never feel through his time as King. Anger filled his heart. His hands hooked the golden horn-like crown , ripping it from his head and letting it slip from his hand to the oak floor.

"I'd argue how our time in the embrace of the Light was wasted.. But more importantly then our time , our lives were wasted. It was f-"

A deafening boom blew the Beetles to the ground , their nests and homes blew with them , once the ring of the boom had calmed , the choking would quickly fill that space. Visions were blurry , but what the King could make out made his tired eyes widen. His hands grip on the balconing loosen as he stumbled a step back. What he could only describe as fleshy giants , clothed in garments of white and red , holding metal poles that boomed and banged through the forest.

As booms from one side was met with booms from the other , the Kings mouth open in fear , a foot clothed in thick leather unknowingly smashed down onto his people , before smashing down a step forward , and forward and forward until it was far into the distance. " i..i-" the Kings final words were cut short by another foot scraping down the side of the oak tree in a desperate attempt to run forward , tragically putting the King out of his misery. His final words,  even for a wise man , was not so wise.

And so the forever famous Battle of the Cosmin Forest against the kingdom of Poland and the kingdom of Maldivonia had began.

And so a War had persued.