Zaber was staring at a bee crawling over the fish. The roar of the waterfall echoed ceaselessly in the background, and the humid air clung to his skin. The rocks on the shore were wet from the water, with tiny droplets glistening on their surface. The bee climbed onto the fish, paused for a moment, and looked at Zaber. Then, after standing motionless for a brief while, it glanced toward its hive.
In the next instant, two more bees emerged and landed on the fish. They stood close to one another, moving cautiously, their small wings fluttering slowly, while Zaber silently observed it all. There was no wind around—only the relentless noise of the waterfall.
These bees have just been born, he thought.
They do not yet possess their own will. That is why they cannot protect themselves from my killing intent.
After a short time, the bees ate a little from the fish and returned to their hive. The interior of the hive was dark and narrow.
