The dictionary gave us a MIELGA. As for its translation, the options are three dogs (spiny dogfish, spurdog and piked dogfish) or one shark (mud shark), and it should go without saying, but we will stick with the shark. Anyway, it could also be a plant with purple flowers. And we still don’t know what we will write with them. But what we do know is that our story will include honey (MIEL) and at least one galley (GAlera).
*By the way, the dictionary told us that those sharks have poisonous spines, and they can’t be all that different from the stingers honeybees have, since our dictionary called them stingers, and that is the word we are going to use.
On the deck of an ancient ship there are only a little girl and a plant with purple flowers. The oarsmen are kept below decks, condemned to see only an endless stretch of sea and sky, and they will never know that they are carrying a little girl to war.
The ship stops in the middle of the sea. And the little girl readies herself to defend the flowers from the stingers of the sharks. There are barely any honeybees left in the world. Most hives have fallen. And to avoid disaster, people decided to take the flowers to the sea. They decided to look for some other animal equipped with stingers that would make honey out of flowers. And the sharks agreed to be that animal.
But there is a little girl on the ship, a stowaway, that with her sole presence changes its name to a warship. A little girl willing to fight to the death in the name of the honeybees. Because honey has always been their thing. And it wouldn’t be fair if those flowers were to survive in a world devoid of honeybees. So, she fights against the sharks. Because the honeybees are doomed. And instead of trying to help, people decided to gift those flowers to the sharks. And the little girl isn’t willing to let such a world survive.
Did you think that the little girl would win? The odds were never in her favor, and you look like someone who knows how to put two and two together. But maybe you thought that her hole-riddled corpse would just sink to the bottom of the sea; that her blood would just disappear without a trace, following in the foam’s footsteps, and that would be that. Because she was too young to have an heir, someone that would inherit her will and take up the fight. And you wouldn’t be wrong. I didn’t set sail in that little girl’s name. Every drop of blood I spill is, and always will be, in the honeybees’ memory.
It was a windy day, and the waves kept breaking close to my ear, so, you can take it with a grain of salt. I think I heard someone say that people become angels when they die. And it made me wonder if the same rules apply to honeybees. If they are watching over us and they like what they see. I would like that very much. Because knowing that I was making them proud would take the sting out of having to spend my life fighting. It would make this never-ending fight seem less pointless. At least to my heart.
I wish I could go back in time to when honey still tasted right. I would cover my ears and keep their words from ever stinging my heart. I wish I had never been told that real honey requires honeybees. That it belongs in their very name, and sharks are just a poor substitute. I miss swimming in the sweetness that used to take over my mouth. But every spoonful tastes like dust now that I have been told that I will never get to taste the real deal.
Don’t worry your pretty little head, my shark. I have never disrespected an adversary in my life, and I have no intention of starting with you. I will spill your blood all over the sea, and salt will sting all your wounds. But I won’t forget myself. Red may lead to frenzy in these parts, but you can rest assured that I won’t follow after that color. You will die at my hands. I won’t pretend that I am not home. I will own your death. My willing, deliberate part in it.
Do you know how many flowers have met their death in this sea? It doesn’t feel like my home anymore. It feels like their grave. And I just wish we had never agreed to take up where the honeybees left off.
Honeybees might have had unrivaled stingers, but you only have swords. Flowers like these may not appreciate what we do for them, but we have teeth, if nothing else, and the sea on our side. It only takes a few drops of blood for the frenzy to overtake us. Do you really think that you stand a chance? We learned from the best. And you couldn’t even take over from those honeybees you are trying to avenge.
The sea is too big, there is too much empty space, and I don’t really mind whiling away my days making honey. It may be a thankless job, but honey is sweet, and at least it takes my mind off bluer things. I am not asking for recognition. I just wish someone would take those honeybees off the label.
Don’t ask me. The Sea may remember everything, but those are her secrets, and she doesn’t let anyone in on them. I don’t know what happened to that warship, and I am not interested in making up a story for your entertainment. But if you really are that bored, I guess I could at least point you in the right direction. There are still people fighting in the name of the honeybees today. I am sure they will be delighted to spin a tale or two for you.