The Wasp Chronicles #1: Into the Hornet's Nest

Terror Valley and Spear of Souls

Clément: So these past few days have been some of the weirdest in my life.  It started with a band cruise: Nothing too terribly abnormal about that.  Then pirates attacked.  That’s right, pirates.  Not like a bunch of thugs on boats with guns, I mean like yo-ho-hoing, gun slinging, swashbuckling, shiver me timbering pirates in old coats with eye patches and peg legs.  I didn’t think they existed anymore.  And then the cruise ship was attacked by… something: Something big and flying; and buzzing.  It tipped over and washed everyone to the shore of this island: Most everyone, anyway.  There were a few I still haven’t seen yet.  And now, I’m dressed like a bug staring into the face of some seven foot tall wasp/human hybrid: Tigervespa, the chieftain of the savage Hornetian tribe.  How weirder can my vacation get?  “Era uoy ydaer ot tpecca eht driht tset (Translation: Are you ready to accept the third test)?” Tigervespa demanded.  “Eya (Translation: Aye),” I said.  He regarded Louis.  “Era uoy ydaer ot tpecca eht driht tset?” He repeated. Louis nodded.  “Sey, Apsevregit (Translation: Yes Tigervespa).”  The Hornetian put a clawed hand on each of our shoulders.  In the Hornetians’ crude language, he declared to the rest of his tribe, “I have always found these two to be a bit too short for my liking, but they have proven themselves in the first two trials.  They are ready to test their mettle in Terror Valley and against all the perils that await them there.”  He had gathered the tribe and the two of us at a pass between two low mountains at what appeared to be the center of the island.  The tribesmen buzzed about restlessly.  Hornetians are wasp men.  They are all about seven feet tall and vaguely humanoid-shaped, save for the fact that they have wings, stingers, and an extra pair of arms.  And they’re covered in orange and ebon striped exoskeleton armor.

The pass overlooked a mist-covered valley full of thick brambles and dead trees.  Rorret Yellav, or in plain English, Terror Valley: A barren trail that wound its way through the vale to a large mud-colored mound at the opposite side as large as a shopping mall.  Tigervespa gave us a shove, and we descended the mountain into the valley.  As we advanced toward the trail, I thought about why we were here.  We had to free our fellow band members.  They were being held prisoners by the Hornetians.  The wasp men believed that if they gave living sacrifices to some giant hornet, then their tribe would have ‘good fortune and prosperity’.  We had visited the Hornetian morgue, a.k.a. a pile of twisted, lifeless exoskeleton.  They never buried their dead. They just devoured the insides and left the empty chitin to rot.  So Louis and I stared pulling pieces off of them and attached them to ourselves. It was a terrible disguise, I thought, when we finished, but the Hornetians couldn’t tell.  With their compound eyes, their vision is too poor.

Learning their language wasn’t too hard, they form words and stuff just like English.  It’s just… different.  The words even kinda sound the same; in a backwards way.  We reached the start of the trail.  It twisted out of sight in the endless mass of purplish black brambles.  “So the Spear of Souls is somewhere in there?” I asked Louis.  “Yep.”  The LEHS band members were together in a bone-filled cave, the entrance to which was sealed by a thick rotten log in a hole, and it takes most of the Hornetians to work the pulleys that lift it… which they only do under direct order of their chief.  So we were going to be chieftains Louis and I.  We would get this Spear of Souls and defeat Tigervespa in a ‘Duel of the Fearless’.  In so doing, we would earn the Hornetians’ respect.  We heard constant buzzing as we continued down the bramble-flanked trail, and once or twice we saw a giant wasp fly overhead.  Those giant wasps… I thought back to what Amy told me. Did that ‘molecular growth machine’ have anything to do with this? “Look!” Louis said suddenly.  There in the middle of the path up ahead of us were two, pale, slimy hornets, crawling around on the ground.  They were each about the size of a large dog.  “They’re grubs” I said. “Babies”  “Do you think they can hurt us?”  “No. But, it’s not the grubs I’m worried about…”  We heard an angry buzz behind us.  We slowly turned around to see an angry hornet as big as a horse staring us down.  “Ew emoc ni ecaep (Translation: We come in peace)!” Louis told it.  “I don’t think it speaks Hornetian…” I said.  “No, it certainly doesn’t” said a voice behind us.

We turned around again and saw Vance Darkwile standing between the two grubs.  “This creature has been chasing me all day,” He said smiling, “I believe it needs a new quarry.”  He picked up one of the grubs.  It squirmed in his hands, and the adult hornet tensed like it was ready to charge.  Darkwile laughed and threw the grub at me.  For a split second, I hesitated.  Should I catch it?  Let it fall?  It hit me and I knocked it away, and before I knew it, the giant hornet was on top of me, its lethal stinger coming closer and closer to my belly… “Clément!” Louis shouted.  He looked like he was ready to fight the thing, but we heard a half-buzz war cry, and the next thing I knew was the beast was off of me being beaten by a Hornetian with a spiked stick.  It was Tigervespa.

“ON ECNAREFRETNI! EHT NAMUH TUOHTIW RIAH SERFRETNI HTIW EHT SLAIRT (Translation: NO INTERFERENCE! THE HUMAN WITHOUT HAIR INTERFERES WITH THE TRIALS)!”  The wasp gave a frightened buzz and took off into the sky and Tigervespa turned on Darkwile.  His stinger bulged and he whirled at the scientist.  Vance turned and ran, as he reached into his trench coat and drew out a weird silver handgun.  He shot a… laser (Is that what that was?) at the Hornetian, and it took off one of his four clawed arms.  Tigervespa roared and flew at him, knocking the gun out of his hand, and shoved him into a… hole?  There was a dark hole in the ground, under a thorn bush.  “Come on, Louis!” I said, and he followed me into the darkness.  We landed after a brief earthen slide in a dimly lit cave.  Darkwile and Tigervespa were fighting on a narrow stone bridge that spanned a dark chasm.  The bridge lead to a ledge on the far wall and on the ledge was a glowing emerald pointed crystal on the end of a long stick.  The Spear of Souls!  Louis watched as I ran across the bridge, narrowly dodging the brawlers, and grabbed the spear.  I looked back.  Tigervespa raked his claws across Darkwile’s face, shattering his black glasses and cutting three deep gashes.  The Hornetian threw him to the ground.  “The Spear of Souls,” Vance Darkwile gasped, “Give it to me! It can—” But he broke into a scream as Tigervespa kicked him in the gut and sent him tumbling into darkness.  “You’ve done well,” The Hornetian chief commented in his language.  “I see you have the Spear of Souls.” And with that, he grabbed me by the shirt and flew out of the hole, grabbing Louis on the way.  He set us down in Terror Valley, before a cave in the mud-colored mound.  He flew inside and shouted “Now you must defeat me!” in Hornetian.  I gave the spear to Louis.