Some would find the interior of the Singing Hive uncomfortably claustrophobic, between the narrow walls and oftentimes low ceilings, but it was something Chyn'Ik'Zakeer had always found comforting and reassuring. The floors and walls were worn from the passage of innumerable numbers of her brethren over the many millennia, but down in the depths of the Hive it was still fairly well maintained. But Zakeer had little time for thinking, as she had somewhere to be. She moved quickly through the narrow tunnels, paying close attention to the luminescent fungus along the walls, glowing a dim white in the darkness of the Hive. Normally Zakeer could navigate by memory, but she had never been in this section of the hive before. One didn't come here unless one was invited, and it was quite clear. She saw her fellow warriors standing guard at regular intervals in the twisting tunnels, she paid little attention to them and they paid little attention to her. But eventually Zakeer arrived at her destination, a door set in the side of the wall and flanked by two guards who looked at her as she stopped in front of it.

"Chyn'Ik'Zakeer?" One asked.

"That's me," she replied, and other guard opened the door and informed the sole occupant of Zakeer's arrival.

Zakeer strode in with a polite nod of the head at the pair of guards, and then stopped in the middle of room to quickly take stock. It was fancy, there was no doubt about that. There was a short table at one end, several intricate rugs on the floor as well as tapestries hanging from the walls, as well as several large indentations along the walls containing a wide variety of objects such as scrolls and glowing fungus, but the most telling things were the beaded curtains leading to other rooms. The other individual was sitting on a cushion in front of the table, staring at Zakeer. She was another Nyr'kiin, though with her black and white shell, thin waist, and stinger she looked very much like a large wasp when compared to Zakeer's thicker, grey body. But she also wore the blue markings of the warrior caste, but her marking were far more extensive and intricate than Zakeer's own.

"Chyn'Ter'Vakin," Zakeer said, with an overly dramatic bow; the two Nyr'kiin stared at one another for a moment, before the room was filled with their buzzing laughter.

"It's been too long sister," Vakin said, standing up and making her way to Zakeer.

"Well it's not like I can just stride in and visit you whenever I please," Zakeer said before the two of them gave each other a long hug. Then, once they broke apart, "After all, you're Chyn'[i]Ter[/i]'Vakin now. Must be busy being a Grand Councillor."

"Zakeer, believe me when I tell you that you have no idea," Vakin replied, "Sometimes I envy you; politics is a whole other type of fighting altogether."

"Hey, if you weren't good enough at it you wouldn't be Grand Councillor," Zakeer said, then made a show of looking around the room, "But are you honestly telling me the perks aren't worth it? You get a room to yourself! With a door!"

Vakin laughed at that, "We both know the perks aren't important. But yes, they are quite nice."

Then Vakin made her way over to her table, pulling a pair of cushions out from underneath it. "Here, have a seat. I know it wasn't a short walk over here," she said, tossing one of the cushions to her sister.

Zakeer caught it easily, and then dropped it on the ground near to the wall; Vakin made her way over and dropped the cushion down next to her. "Yeah, it was a pretty long walk. But you know as well as I do that it's nothing compared to being on patrol," Zakeer said.

"These days you spend most of the patrol on the back of lizard," Vakin teased.

"Hey, I didn't always," Zakeer retorted, "And you don't even go out on patrol anymore."

"True, true," Vakin said with a laugh, then sighed, "You know, I am sorry it took so long to invite you for a visit."

Zakeer just waved it off, "Oh, it's no big deal. You're a Grand Councillor now, you're busy. And I have to go out to make sure the filth doesn't get too close to home. We're both busy."

"You have no idea," Vakin said, shaking her head.

"Is there something the matter?" Zakeer said, her demeanour now completely serious, "What's wrong."

"Oh, it's nothing."

"Vakin, I have known you since we were nymphs. I can tell when something's wrong, so do not lie to me."

"There's a storm on the horizon, and sometimes I feel like I'm the only one who doesn't want charge headlong into it."

"A storm? What?"

Vakin sighed again and shook her head, "With the Dratha around us, we've always been expecting a war to come at some point. But now it's getting close."

Zakeer cocked her head at this, "I don't understand, what's the problem? That sounds great; the filthy monsters need to learn to fear us again."

"Zakeer, listen to me, things are not as black and white as that," Vakin said, "You know the Salished?"

"Of course. Bloody powerhouse over in the Rainlands, no friends of the Dratha either," Zakeer said, "Of course, they're no friends of us either. But what's the problem?"

"The Empire hasn't been stable in a long time, and it seems like every day more people want to capitalize on that," Vakin explained, "And before you ask, yes. They want to go to war."

"What in the name of the Great Mother is wrong with them?" Zakeer nearly shouted. Then continued, more quietly, "I am no fan of them either, but they're not the real threat here. Those worthless wizards in their bloody cesspools are the real problem!"

"I know Zakeer, I know," Vakin said, "War is coming, and I can't stop it. But enough of the Grand Council aren't willing to throw Nyr'kiin lives away on a war with the Salished, so I've been able to convince them to wait."

"If they're really so set on war, they aren't going to wait forever you know."

"Believe me, I know. But if there are those among us looking to take advantage of the Salished, can you imagine what the Dratha must be thinking?"

Zakeer was silent for a moment as she thought, then she laughed as realization dawned on her, "Those wretches are like giant vultures, uglier of course but you know what I mean. There is no way they'll pass this up."

"If war is coming to the Singing Hive, then the Singing Hive will go to war when the time is right for us," Vakin said, "I can only hope the Dratha get a move on soon."

"Oh, so do I. I'd love nothing more than to put the in their place," then Zakeer noticed Vakin shaking her head, "What?"

"I'd still rather not go to war at all, to be honest. War is absolute hell," Vakin told her sister, "Think of how many will die. Even if we get the jump on them."

"And they'll die proud, having given their lives for their Hive and their people. I don't understand the problem here," Zakeer said, the honest confusion evident in her voice.

"You know what Zakeer, how about we forget this," Vakin said, "Believe it or nor, I didn't call you over to unload this on you."

"Well I don't believe it," Zakeer said, the joking tone evident in her voice.

"Oh hush. I just wanted to see my sister again, chat about old times, catch up," Vakin said, then stood up and made her way to one of the indentations in the wall, "Maybe get unfortunately drunk."

"Hah, just like old times. Well, I'm not doing anything important tomorrow, so that sounds great," Zakeer said, "So what've you got?"

"Well, you know those perks you mentioned earlier? Here's another one," Vakin said turning around to reveal a rather large bottle of reddish liquid.

"What [i]is[/i] that?" Zakeer asked.

"It's wine. I'll spare you the details, but it is very good wine from a very long way off," Vakin said proudly.

"Sounds good. Just one question. What's wine?"

Vakin laughed at that, "Alcohol made from grapes."

"Grapes?"

"Oh, for the Great Mother's sake just shut up and let's drink."