Standard disclaimers apply. I don't own anything except the idea that the bees were Bees, and the offer extended. Everything else you recognize I have no ownership over.

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The young maunt began putting her few belongings that she had accumulated in the past seven years in her one bag in which the Superior Maunt had been kind enough to give her. A few changes of clothing, several books, amongst other items all found their way into the tattered and worn bag.

Once she had finished packing up her few belongings, the woman - called Sister Saint Aelphaba by her fellow maunts - cast her dark brown eyes across the room. Good; she hadn't left anything. Turning to the door, she silently opened it and stepped out into the hallway.

There was nobody around, of course. All the novices were taking care of their duties. Either that, or praying for some absurd reason. Aelphaba, Elphaba was her real name, prayed along with them when it was required, sure. But that didn't mean she believed in any of that. Her father, Frexspar, had always rambled on about the Unnamed God, and now any religion was as far from her mind as was her father himself. Elphaba simply had no time or patience to think about the past, as it were.

In the seven long years she had spent at the outpost mauntery, Elphaba had only made friends with - or even spoken to - the many animals and fewer Animals. Most had fled for reasons they hadn't chosen to enlighten her with, but a large group remained. The Bees.

Walking quickly and silently through the halls, Elphaba soon came to the clearing that was at the center of the mauntery. In the center of that clearing was a large tree in which the Bees had made their residence. She paused a moment, watching, and then walked quickly over. Setting her old bag on the ground, she placed an emerald palm on the wood, and waited.

Within moments, the Bees swarmed out. But they didn't sting, merely perched on her arms and head, and one - the designated speaker - was on her earlobe so as to be heard. The other novices were wary of Elphaba for this, and as she didn't speak to them, were never told that the insects that lived in the tree were actually Bees.

"Miss Elphaba, my queen would like to extend you an offer. If you ever require assistance, simply speak to any bees or Bees. All bees understand, but not all are gifted with speech. Ask them to contact our hive, and we will come to your assistance."

Elphaba blinked in mild surprise, and then nodded, giving the bees a small half-smile. "Thank you."

There was a small buzz, then a grouchy response. "Pray you don't require it."

The maunt nodded once again, then moved to pick up her bag. Instantly, all the bees flew off of her, some heading back into the hive, some going out in search of flowers. Picking up her bag, Elphaba turned away from the tree and, not looking back, walked back into the hallways.

When she had neared the entrance to the maunt, however, an old huddled-over woman stepped into her path, holding a large broom that was a few inches taller than she was. But for Elphaba, who towered over many people, it only came up to her shoulder. Her dark eyes rested on the broom for a moment, and then down at the woman as she stepped aside to let her pass. The woman was obviously her superior, and had to be shown respect.

But as the old maunt looked up at Elphaba, the emerald woman saw her face. It was Mother Yackle, a woman whom many novices enjoyed gossiping about, their main topic being that the woman was mad. Elphaba had never seen the woman any differently than anybody else at the mauntery, but regardless, her eyes immediately went to the floor.

Out of the corner of her dark eyes, Elphaba saw the woman hold out the broom to her. She instantly took it - you didn't argue with superiors - but held it uncertainly. She then saw Mother Yackle give her a toothy grin. "Take it with you, poppet. It will be your link to destiny."

So her destiny was to be domestic, Elphaba mused. She lowered it so it rested on the ground, and waited. Soon, she was alone in the hallway once again.

Time to join the caravan so she could apologize to Sarima, Fiyero's wife, for their love affair and inform her how he had died - attacked by the Gale Force. Hopefully she could be forgiven.

So, with broom in one hand and bag in the other, she walked towards and out of the doors to the Cloister of Saint Glinda, prepared both mentally and physically for whatever would happen in the future.