Smallscale

Symon  woke up to the sound of the wind blowing through the grass and trees, and the summer cicadas beginning their daily song. He felt the cool breeze on his skin trying to carefully nudge him awake, but he fought it just for a few more minutes of rest. That's when he was hit with what felt like a bucket of water being dumped on his head, jolting him to consciousness. He choked and coughed as he opened his eyes sleepily. He found himself lying on the ground in the dirt, and his eyes were still bleary. 

 

He was outside, surrounded by blurry green shapes that slowly took form as his eyes adjusted. They were blades of grass as tall as trees, and the trees themselves, bigger than the tallest skyscrapers. Everything was larger than normal. He looked above him to see a large mushroom shading his body like an oversized beach umbrella. A droplet of dew was forming just over his head. That surely was what rudely woke him just now. 

 

"I must've gone mad." Symon thought to himself. "Everything's so big… or have I just become very small? Impossible.”

 

Symon tried to process his situation. He was most certainly in his own bed last he remembered. In fact, he had work in the morning he was meant to wake up early for. He was meant to travel to the city down south by train. Even if he got up, it was far too late into the morning, his scheduled train was probably long gone by now. He thought that surely this was just a dream, and thought about going back to sleep and hopefully waking up back in his bed, safe at home, but the dewdrop above him snapped him back back to reality with another splash of cold water. 

 

Symon shivered on the ground, wondering where his nightgown had gone. He looked down at his naked body and gasped at the sight. His skin was a smooth black color, with stripes of vivid greens and reds. His body, though still humanoid, was segmented. His fingers and toes ended in pointed claws, and he counted two extra limbs lying limply across his torso. He had sensation in these additional limbs that felt quite alien to him. He tried to move them but only managed to get the fingers to twitch. They were still heavy and numb.

 

"What’s happened to me?" He thought, trying to remember how in the world he could have gotten himself in such bizarre circumstances. Try as he might though, the last thing he could honestly remember with true clarity was going to bed the night before, very much still human. Everything else was quite fuzzy. It gave him a headache trying to pull memories from that haze. 

 

Eventually he decided it did him no good to lie around on the ground, and he attempted to lift himself up. A sharp stinging in his back sent him tumbling back to the ground. He was injured but how and from what, he didn't know. He looked around him and eventually spotted a sturdy stick just within his reach. It was long enough for him to slowly prop himself up on it like a cane. His legs wobbled from an unexpected weight on his rear. He felt around for it and was startled to find a plump tail formed at the end of his spine, round like the rear of an insect. Moving his hand further up his back he felt paper thin wings. He attempted to move them, but they tugged painfully on the injury on his back.

 

"This will sound ludicrous but…" he thought to himself. "Is it possible I have become sort of… insect?" Indeed, this body was alien to him, but he had no time to dwell on that. He had to figure out where he was, and what was going on.

 

He limped across the ground as he navigated through the jungle of grass blades and flowers. It was almost impossible to get a grasp of where he was from down here. Anything too far away became a blur, and the foliage was too dense to see ahead much. He had no choice but to blindly go forward until he found something of note. He was hyper vigilant of any sounds. The wind blew the grass around and made him paranoid. At this size, the chirping of birds and croaking of frogs were no longer a soothing sound of nature, but a warning of predators that would eat him without hesitation. 

 

He yelped at the sound of skittering near him, and he gripped the stick tightly frantically watching the grass around him. Out of the swaying blade soon came a massive ant scuttling out into the open. At this scale it was almost the size of a dog. Symon lifted the stick like a weapon, his legs shaking from fear and pain, but the ant seemed uninterested in him. It simply watched him for a moment and wiggled its antenna before crossing to the other side of the grass. Symon let out a shaky sigh of relief as he collapsed back onto his makeshift cane. He was lucky it was just an ant. He still feared what other insects lurked just out of sight in the grass. 

 

He kept walking forward, the pain in his back making it difficult to focus. He stepped into something cold and wet, only to look down to find a small puddle on the ground. Symon knelt down into the puddle; an opportune time to get a look at his face, only to see a horrifying visage staring him back. 

 

His eyes were massive and red like that of an alien, and his jaw was obscured with rather gruesome mandibles. His long hair, once a nice black color, had turned teal like the stripes on his body, and it was a mess. He couldn't resist picking the dirt and debris out of it. As he did he noticed his antennae. He reached out to touch them out of curiosity, which caused a shocking sensation that made his nerves tingle and his body shudder. 

 

He stared at his reflection, dismayed and sick to his stomach. "How could something like this happen to me?" He thought. "I feel like I'm going crazy. I look hideous!" 

 

At that thought he thrust a fist at the surface of the water in frustration, only to be met with the strange jelly-like consistency of the water that completely distracted him from his self-loathing. He pressed a curious finger down and watched the surface bend significantly against the pressure of his hand. He then scooped up the water, and to his amazement, an orb of water sat perfectly on his hand like a bubble. He watched in astonishment as he gently wiggled the ball, and it in turn squashed and stretched without breaking. 

 

It was as he stared at this ball of water that he realized just how thirsty he was. His throat ached like he hadn't had anything to drink in ages. He wondered, for a moment, if he had become an insect, would it not hurt to take a drink from it? The temptation was simply too great, so he gently pressed the water to his lips and drank.

 

Big mistake. 

 

The water was nasty, tasting like mud. Symon spat it out quickly and entered a coughing fit, desperate to get that taste out of his mouth. It was as he was coughing that he failed to realize something large was crawling towards him until he heard an otherworldly hissing sound. 

 

Symon turned around to see a spider lurking over him from behind. A small orbweaver to be sure, but at this scale, it might as well have been the size of a bear. Symon couldn't contain a fearful whimper as he slowly grabbed his cane and stood without making any sudden movements. It was useless, as the spider lunged at him anyway. 

 

Symon screamed and took off deeper into the grass, the adrenaline keeping him on his feet for just a little longer despite tripping and stumbling over the large pebbles and twigs. The spider was giving chase, and it was fast. Too fast. Symon would never be able to outrun it in his condition. 

 

Desperate to get away, Symon felt the ground suddenly give way beneath him and before he knew it he was tumbling down a trench in the dirt. The trip down was painful and left him bruised and unable to stand. He tried to catch his breath when he saw the spider looming over the cliff's edge. Symon was trapped.

 

He clutched the stick that had carried him this far like a life-line. "How did I let this happen? This has to be my fault, I always end up in the worst situations," He sobbed. As he did, a piercing sound came from his lower abdomen; a screeching sound that no human could make with their voice, but it most certainly came from him. This caught the spider off guard just long enough for a fish hook to come down onto its head. The hook pierced through the spiders flesh as it wriggled for freedom, only for the hook to get lodged deeper. Then as fast as it had come down, the hook was ripped out, ripping the spiders head in half.

 

It had happened so quickly that Symon had barely processed that it was another person, or entity, that had killed the spider. Standing over it was another strange insect person not all that different to him. His skin was blue with black stripes and he had white hair tied into a ponytail. His wings and tail shape suggested he was similar to a common blue damselfly. 

 

The boy wrapped the hook aroind his waist; a fowl looking mustard yellow blood coming dripping from it, then looked at the trembling gentleman in the hole. Symon had not yet stopped crying but quickly wiped the tears from his eyes as soon as he was being watched. 

 

"Hey there, are you okay?" The boy asked him. His voice was strange. He spoke in a crude language of clicks and squeaks and screeches, yet Symon was able to understand it as if it was his first language. 

 

"Y-yes I'm-" He quickly stopped himself with the same painful squeaking coming out of his own mouth despite him not intending to speak this language. "I… I'm… I'm trying.. to-" no matter how hard he tried it wouldn't go away, so he resigned himself to staying silent. 

 

"You don't have to talk. Just hold tight." The boy said before clambering down into the trench with Symon. He looked over his body. "You're hurt. Hold still." He pulled a satchel off his shoulder that looked like it was hand made with twined grass. He pulled out a cloth scrap from a larger piece of fabric and a leather canteen. He poured some water out onto the cloth and handed the rest to Symon.

 

"Drink," The boy demanded as he started washing the mud and blood off of Symon's wounds. Symon was more than happy to have something to drink and quickly gulped down the clean water. Compared to everything else it was the most satisfying water in the world. 

 

"What's your name?" The boy asked. 

 

In a still hoarse tone, Symon answered with his own name.

 

"Heh… that's a weird name. You can call me Aniso- Oh dang! Your back. It's really bad here!" He noted, running a finger near the tender wound on Symon’s back. "You're bleeding really badly, hang on."

 

Aniso quickly started rummaging through his bag, finding more cloth and using a small shard of metal to cut it into strips. As he was doing this Symon looked down to see the same yellowish blood was dripping down his thighs from the wound on his back. 

 

Aniso was quick to use the newly cut cloth to wrap up Symons chest. "Man, I don't know what got you, but it got you good." He said. "You're lucky I was out here hunting. Are you from The Grotto? I've never seen you around before."

 

Symon looked at him with confusion at the question. 

 

"Er… how about any of the other Miinu settlements?"

 

Still not understanding, Symon shook his head.

 

"Dang… Wait- are you feral?"

 

"I… don't understand… anything you're asking me." Symon eventually answered. 

 

"Aw duh Aniso, a feral wouldn't know what a feral is. Obviously ." He lightly smacked his own forehead. "Listen, I'll get you all cleaned up and I'll explain everything to you when I get you home."

 

"Home?" Symon questioned. It was quickly after asking that Aniso had finished wiping most of the blood and dirt off of him pulled his satchel over his shoulder.

 

"I'll show you, hang on," He said with a smirk before lifting Symon into his arms, which startled poor Symon, as no one had picked him up like this since he was a child. Aniso expanded his wings outwards and buzzed as they rapidly flapped. He took off into the sky and Symon clung on for dear life. He couldn't believe he was flying, but so far he had seen stranger. 

 

"I'll have the ants come out here and get that spider. The girls will love roasting it." He said cheekily.

 

Aniso was able to take them both above the grass where Symon could finally make heads or tails of where they were. They were near an old walking trail deep in the forest. He should have recognized it easily as it was similar to the one not far from his home. 

 

Ansio made a turn off the path, following a stream for some time before ducking through a thick wall of vines deep in the woods. Once through, Symon spotted an abandoned cottage, human sized. The house had a thick layer of moss creeping up its stonework exterior, the yard was overgrown with tall grass, flowers, and bushes long overdue for a trim. Lots of junk was left in the yard to be overtaken by nature; gardening tools, children's toys, an old bird bath, and other lawn decor lost to time. 

 

The overgrown stone path from the house led to a still thriving koi pond in the yard. A tree stood tall and proud next to it, its gnarled roots slipping into the water.

 

It was only as they flew closer that he noticed something peculiar about the tree. Its surface was decorated in miniature houses scattered up its trunk. They looked hand crafted and painted bright, dazzling colors. He knew from his studies of miniature crafting that these were known as fairy houses. It was believed by some that if you left these tiny homes outside and provided offerings, the fae would invite themselves inside and protect the property. He had always thought that the tradition was based in myth, a bunch of spiritualist hogwash, but as he looked at himself and his savior, he had to question if he was in the presence of fairies at this moment, and had he somehow become one?

 

Aniso landed on the patio of one of these tiny houses and used his extra pair of hands to knock on the door without jostling Symon. Another of the bug folk answered. The man who stood in the door was a bright green insect, with wings that resembled a long oversized coat made of leaves. The draping sleeves on his arms brought to mind the silhouette of a leaf insect. The gentleman removed the large spectacles on his face, revealing orange beady eyes underneath and rubbing the sleep out of them. 

 

"Aniso? You're here earlier than usual," The gentleman said before looking down at the stranger he was carrying.

 

"Sorry Dr. Leif, I kinda ran into a situation when I was out," Aniso explained. 

 

"Yes I can see that," Dr. Leif noted, returning the spectacles to his face. "If he is hurt, bring him in, quickly." He opened the door wider and headed into the house, Aniso following behind. Once inside, it became apparent that the inside the fairy houses were incomplete, and eventually opened into tunnels inside the wood of the tree itself. That being said, it was surprisingly furnished. Tables, chairs, cabinets, and more were all put together from objects the tiny residents could easily get their hands on; small pieces of twig and bark, leaves, bamboo, even recycled garbage and knick-knacks from the human world. 

 

For example, a fire pit sat firmly in the center of the home, with a sewing thimble hanging from it like a pot. The fire was no more than a hot ember, yet kept the delicious smelling contents of the pot boiling all the same.

Dr. Leif gestured to a cot by the window for Aniso to set Symon down in. The doctor was quick to start examining Symon all over, studying his body. “His bug-kin appears to be Tacua speciosa, or the Great Colorful Cicada,” He noted.

“P-pardon? Bug-kin? Cicada?” Symon repeated in confusion.

“I think he’s a feral, he doesn’t seem to know much about what’s going on,” Ansio explained.

“I see. Well no worries sir, I will explain everything while I treat these wounds of yours.” Dr. Leif said as he began undressing the makeshift bandages, which came off a sickly yellow color. “We call ourselves the Miinu and we’re not like the bugs you see roaming around outside. We have evolved and gained intelligence. We’re all based on different species. Your bug-kin is the species you resemble the most. I’m a Leaf Insect and Aniso here is a common Blue Damselfly.”

Aniso waved in the background. “Don’t worry about taking notes by the way, you’ll have plenty of time to figure everything out.”

“So... were all of you once human as well?” Symon asked.

Dr. Leif and Aniso exchanged bewildered glances for a moment. “Erm… no? We were born like this. Humans are a completely different species. We try to avoid them actually,” Dr. Leif explained.

“But… I’m human.”

Dr. Leif turned back to Aniso. “I think he might have hurt his head as well as his back.”

“I’m telling the truth! I’m a human man. My name is Symon Cantillo. I’m a traveling antiques salesman out of the city of Minau, and-and I have parents and a young sister who are probably very concerned about where I am right now. I don’t even know where or what I am right now and I have no memory of anything before going to work and-” As Symon was rambling, Dr. Leif pressed an assuring hand on his shoulder.

“Please relax Symon. I’m sure you’re very confused and scared right now, but none of what you’re saying is making any sense,” He said.

“You must believe me! I need to get out of here, I need to get home and find my parents. I- Augh-!” Symon tried to stand in his panic, but the pain in his back sent him back down.

“Woah, woah, hey. Calm down, it’s okay. We’ll figure everything out soon, but you’re not going anywhere in this state. Please just hold still for a moment.” Dr. Leif checked the wound. “This is a pretty nasty injury back here, almost like a stab wound, and it doesn't look as fresh as your other scrapes. Do you remember how you got this?”

Symon shook his head.

Dr. Leif let out a sigh. “No matter, we’ll treat it and figure out the rest from there.” 

 

The doctor headed to a cabinet and pulled out a crude glass bottle which was filled with a funny smelling salve, some of which he scooped out with a finger and began rubbing along the wound. It was cold and made the wound sting. “Try not to flinch too much. This will disinfect the wound and prevent infection.”

He pulled out a roll of fresh bandages and redressed the wound. Already Symon could feel the medicine making the skin and muscles on his back feel cool and numb.

“Based on the temperature of your skin, you might also have a fever. Whether it's from exhaustion or infection, you probably should rest. You can stay here for a while,” The doctor concluded as he gently laid Symon out on the cot.

It was oddly comfortable, and after his morning had been, his body felt like it was made of lead. Only now, as the adrenaline wore off, he noticed all the small aches and pains all over his body as though he had been hit by a trolley. He wanted so badly to remember what happened between falling asleep a normal human man in his own bed, and waking up an injured little insect in the middle of the forest.

He could hear that Dr. Leif had started speaking to Aniso in a hushed tone. If he’d been less tired, Symon might have cared enough to listen in more closely. Rather, he stared outside at the swaying leaves of the tree and drifted asleep.