The group emerged from the last trap-filled path, breathing heavily but exhilarated. Before them stood the hidden village of the Oompa-Loompas, nestled high among the towering trees.
Treehouse homes made from sturdy wood and woven vines connected by swaying vine bridges filled the canopy. Colorful murals painted with natural dyes decorated the trunks and walls, depicting scenes of harvesting cocoa, dancing under the moonlight, and battling fierce predators. The sweet, rich aroma of cocoa beans hung thick in the air, mixing with the earthy scent of the jungle. Fires crackled in stone pits below, and simple wooden tools lay neatly beside drying racks of fruits and herbs.
The moment the Oompa-Loompas spotted the outsiders, the village fell into a stunned silence. Small midget figures with tan skin froze in place. Some gasped in shock, others stared with wide-eyed curiosity, while a few quickly hid behind trees or pulled children into their homes. Whispers spread like wildfire.
Kevin raised his hands slowly, showing he meant no harm. "Hello everybody," he called out clearly. "Can I talk to your chief?"
The midget people looked at each other in confusion. Diego leaned close and whispered, "I don't think they understand English."
"You don't have to worry," a deep, calm voice replied. "We understand your language."
The crowd parted as the tribal chief stepped forward. He was a sturdy Oompa-Loompa wearing a simple loincloth made of woven leaves and bark, adorned with a necklace of sharp teeth from jungle beasts. Perched proudly on his shoulder was a sleek black bee, larger than normal, its wings shimmering with a faint golden sheen.
"I am Chief Looma-Kahn," the chief declared, his voice carrying authority. He gestured to the bee on his shoulder. "And this is Queen Buzzara, the queen of the Chocobees."
"What brings you humans here on our land?" Chief Looma-Kahn asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Kevin introduced himself and his companions calmly. "I am Kevin Harlan, and these are my companions, Diego, Dora, and Virginia. We are here because of the cacao that you have."
The moment the word "cacao" left his mouth, the entire village turned alert. Spears and wooden bows were raised instantly. Hostile glares replaced curiosity, and even Chief Looma-Kahn's eyes grew cold.
"So you have come to steal our cocoa as well?" the chief asked, his voice low and sharp.
"Whoa, easy there!" Kevin raised his hands higher, his companions mirroring the gesture. "We're not here to steal anything. Instead, we want to trade."
"Trade?" Looma-Kahn's repeated, his tone cautious.
"Yes," Kevin nodded firmly.
For a long moment, the chief held their gaze, then slowly raised his hand and brought it down in a calm, deliberate gesture. One by one, the Oompa‑Loompas lowered their weapons, though they remained watchful. Kevin and his companions let out a collective breath of relief and lowered their hands as well.
"Then follow me," Chief Looma-Kahn said finally.
They followed the chief to a massive ancient tree. Parts of the trunk had been carved out into steps. The group climbed carefully, reaching a spacious platform high above where the chief's home stood. It was a humble but well-built wooden structure with a leaf roof and a curtain doorway.
"This is my humble abode. Come in," the chief said, holding the curtain open.
Inside, the space was cozy and dimly lit by a central fire burning in a hardened clay pit. Simple wooden furniture and woven mats filled the room. The chief sat down cross-legged, and Queen Buzzara remained perched on his shoulder. Kevin and the others joined him around the fire.
The chief poked the fire with a stick to keep it lit. "The cacao that you seek grows here in our village, but only a few trees remain. Our tribe is dying."
"What happened?" Kevin asked.
"This forest holds many dangers," The chief explained, his voice heavy with sorrow. "There are creatures that hunt us and destroy our livelihood. The Snozzwangers, vicious beasts that live to feed on Oompa‑Loompa flesh. The Whangdoodles, terrible, bloodthirsty monsters that raid our settlements without mercy and the Hornswogglers, powerful, ill‑tempered brutes that will stalk and kill any of us they find. Under such constant threat, our people grow weak, and our cocoa trees are torn down or left untended. Even with the help of Melina and her Chocobees, who fight beside us to drive these predators back, we are slowly being overwhelmed."
Kevin fell silent, turning the situation over in his mind.
Looma-Kahn looked at him steadily. "If you have something to offer us, something that can protect our people and our crops, then we may speak of trade. We can give you only a small amount of fruit, for we have little left. But we hold many seeds, saved from better harvests. We try to plant them every season, yet each time, the beasts come and destroy them before they can grow."
Kevin lifted his head, having already formed an idea. "What if I offered you a place to live where there are no predators at all? A land where your people will be safe, protected by many others. There you could plant all the seeds you wish and more than that, we have tools and devices that can help the trees grow far faster than they ever would in the wild. Would that interest you?"
The chief stared at him, wide‑eyed and stunned. It sounded too good to be true, exactly what his tribe had been praying for but he was no fool; nothing came without a price. "That is a great promise. What would you ask in return? What is your part of this bargain?"
"Only this," Kevin said honestly. "I want your help, and I want your cocoa, both the fruit and the seeds. I will plant these trees on our lands, and turn their harvest into something wonderful: foods and treats that people everywhere will love but to do it well, I will need your knowledge, your skill, and your care. Work with me, and we both gain."
Before the chief could reply, a clear, melodic voice spoke from beside him.
"That is a good deal. Take it, Looma-Kahn."
Kevin and his companions froze, their eyes going wide. The voice had come from Queen Buzzura... the queen bee herself.
"What? Shocked that a bee can talk?" Queen Buzzara said, amused by their expressions.
Kevin quickly recovered, shaking his head with a faint smile. "Not as much as you might think, not after the things happening across the Federation lately with the bees. This is just… new to us, that's all."
"Wait! slow down," The Queen said, her tone growing sharp and curious. "What do you mean by things happening? What is this talk of bees?"
"Ah! right," Kevin said, scratching the back of his neck. "There's a bee named Barry who made headlines recently. He claims to speak for all bees, and filed a formal claim to take back every drop of honey in the human world, from the flowers, from jars, from stores, everywhere it is kept."
The queen fell silent for only a heartbeat before she darted forward, buzzing right up to Kevin's face, her wings humming loudly.
"Is this true?" she demanded.
"It is," Kevin confirmed.
Instantly, the queen's aura shifted. Her small body hummed with barely contained fury, and her wings beat faster. "Those foolhardy yellow bees, what in the world are they thinking? If they take every drop of honey, they will throw the entire natural balance out of order! We had an agreement: they tend to the flowers and hives in the human settlements, and we leave those lands to them but this... this breaks every rule we ever set!"