The first rays of dawn crept across the vast expanse of the train tracks, casting long shadows and turning the rusty metal into a landscape of gold and amber. In the microscopic world nestled between the wooden ties, life was already stirring. And none stirred earlier or more frantically than Elyndor.
The seasoned scopicitae explorer was up with the first light, his many arms wielding an assortment of tiny tools as he dug into the towering mass of discarded burger. Each movement was precise, yet tinged with a desperate energy that spoke volumes about the importance of his search.
“Come on, come on,” Elyndor muttered to himself, his voice muffled by his ever-present breathing apparatus. “Where are you, you infernal scrap of plant fiber?”
As he worked, his mind wandered back to the moment he’d lost his precious notebook. It had all happened so fast – one second he was strolling along, minding his own business, and the next, the sky was falling. Or rather, a burger was falling, which in the scopicitae world amounted to pretty much the same thing.
He could still see it in his mind’s eye: the notebook slipping from his grasp as he dove for cover, tumbling end over end in what seemed like slow motion. Then came the thunderous impact of the burger, and his last glimpse of those invaluable notes disappearing beneath a mountain of bread and meat.
“Weeks of research,” Elyndor grumbled, pausing to wipe a bead of sweat from his brow. “Months of piecing together clues. All buried under this… this fast food fiasco!”
His grumbling must have been louder than he realized, for it wasn’t long before a groggy voice piped up from nearby.
“Mr. Elyndor?” Pippa emerged from a cozy air pocket in the burger bun, rubbing sleep from her eyes with two of her arms while the others stretched languidly. “What’s going on? Why are you making such a racket?”
Elyndor turned, trying (and failing) to mask his frustration with a smile. “Ah, good morning, Pippa. Did I wake you? My apologies. I’m just trying to locate something I lost yesterday during all the… excitement.”
Pippa’s antennae perked up with interest as she scampered over to Elyndor’s impromptu excavation site. Her eyes widened at the sight of his tools – an eclectic collection of repurposed objects that would have been junk in the giant’s world, but were priceless instruments in the hands of a skilled scopicitae.
“Wow!” she exclaimed, picking up what appeared to be a miniature shovel fashioned from a shard of metal. “Where did you get all these amazing gadgets?”
Elyndor couldn’t help but puff up a bit with pride. “Oh, these? I’ve collected them over years of expeditions. That shovel, for instance, is a piece of a giant’s coin that I shaped myself. And this,” he held up a wickedly sharp hook, “is the tip of a sewing needle. Excellent for clearing away tough debris.”
Pippa’s eyes sparkled with admiration. “That’s so cool! But… where were they during all the craziness yesterday? I didn’t see you carrying anything when we met.”
“Ah, well,” Elyndor chuckled, “even the most prepared explorer sometimes has to travel light. I had left most of my gear nearby while I scouted ahead. Thank the great mold mother I didn’t lose it all in the Burger Incident.”
The capital letters were audible in Elyndor’s voice, as if the events of the previous day had already taken on legendary status in his mind.
As Elyndor returned to his digging, Pippa settled herself on a nearby sesame seed, munching contentedly on a bit of hamburger bun. “So,” she said between bites, “what exactly brought you out here anyway? It doesn’t seem like the kind of place a famous explorer would just happen to be passing through.”
Elyndor paused in his work, considering how much to reveal. “Well,” he began slowly, “I was searching for something. Something very important. Important enough that I packed up a bunch of supplies, left the comfort of my home Scopicity, and ended up here in this forsaken, deserted, barren metal world.”
He gestured around at the train tracks and gravel, which to scopicitae eyes must have seemed as vast and inhospitable as a desert. “It’s hot out here, though this shaded area is a bit more bearable. And I have to say, after days of scrounging for sustenance, this unexpected bounty of food is quite welcome.”
Pippa beamed with pride. “Well, you’re welcome to as much of my burger as you want! Mi casa de carne es su casa de carne, as they say!”
Elyndor blinked in confusion. “I… don’t think anyone says that, Pippa.”
“Really? Huh. Maybe I made it up. I do that sometimes,” she replied cheerfully, completely unperturbed.
With a shake of his head and a barely suppressed chuckle, Elyndor returned to his excavation efforts. Pippa watched for a while, occasionally offering to help, but her attention span proved somewhat lacking. Before long, she was wandering off to explore their bready domain, leaving Elyndor to his work.
“First time out in the world,” Elyndor mused to himself as he watched her go. “Can’t fault her for being distracted. She’ll learn soon enough that focus is key to survival out here.” He turned back to his digging, muttering, “Now, if I can just find that blasted notebook…”
Time passed, measured by the gradual shift of shadows across the train tracks. Elyndor had made considerable progress, tunneling deep into the burger, when a sound cut through his concentration like a knife.
A scream. Pippa’s scream.
Elyndor’s head snapped up, antennae twitching wildly as he tried to pinpoint the source of the cry. “Pippa?” he called out. “Pippa, where are you?”
Another scream answered him, this time accompanied by a buzzing sound that made Elyndor’s exoskeleton crawl. He knew that sound all too well, and it spelled trouble.
Abandoning his search, Elyndor scrambled out of his excavation and raced toward the commotion. As he rounded a particularly large sesame seed, he saw a sight that confirmed his worst fears.
There was Pippa, darting in and out of crevices in the bread, her eyes wide with terror. And pursuing her, its multifaceted eyes gleaming with predatory interest, was a fly. To human eyes, it would have been an unremarkable insect, barely worthy of notice. But to a scopicitae, it was a behemoth – a winged monster easily the size of a house.
“Already?” Elyndor muttered in disbelief as he assessed the situation. “I thought this place would be safe for at least a few days, being so barren and abandoned. So much for that theory.”
He watched in amazement as Pippa displayed an agility he wouldn’t have thought possible, given her sheltered upbringing. She leapt and dodged with surprising grace, staying just ahead of the fly’s probing proboscis.
“Where did she get all that energy?” Elyndor wondered aloud. But there was no time for such musings. Pippa might be holding her own for the moment, but it was only a matter of time before the fly got lucky – or she got tired.
Taking a deep breath, Elyndor steeled himself for action. He’d faced down creatures like this before, but it never got any less terrifying. Still, there was no choice. He couldn’t leave Pippa to fend for herself.
“Hey, you overgrown pest!” Elyndor shouted, waving his arms to attract the fly’s attention. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size? Or, well, someone slightly less microscopic, at least!”
As the fly turned its enormous head toward him, Elyndor had a moment to question the wisdom of his plan. But there was no turning back now. With a courage born of necessity, he charged forward, ready to face down a creature many times his size.
In the back of his mind, a wry thought bubbled up: “Well, Elyndor, you wanted adventure. Looks like you’ve found it – along with a side of mortal peril. Let’s just hope we can both make it out of this pickle… or should I say, this burger?”
And with that, Elyndor threw himself into the fray, determined to save his young companion from becoming a fly’s breakfast. The search for his notebook would have to wait. Right now, there was a much more immediate treasure to protect – the life of a fellow scopicitae.
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