Symon would awake to find himself in the present; once more in that insectoid fae body. It was now greatly preferable compared to being a giant, grotesque insect, but it still wasn’t his body. It was still wrong. He was still wrong. And now, he had every horrible, traumatic memory to go along with it. He let out a carnal scream of despair and anguish at the true nature of his predicament. He wailed and curled into a ball as he wept in his own hands.

Through his cries, he’d hear Aniso calling for him.

“Symon? Symon, are you okay?” His concerned questions echoed past the noise of Symon’s despair, allowing him to come to his senses. 

Through hyperventilating, he managed to take in his surroundings, which were notably different. He was in a dark tunnel lit only marginally by tiny lanterns. The floor, wall and ceiling were interconnected like a lumpy tube made from tightly packed dirt and clay. Aniso was looking at him from the other side of rusty, iron bars. Though it was clear that he was on the side of freedom, in a sprawling tunnel hall, while he was in a cell.

“Wh- where am I?” Symon choked.

“Uhm… well. You’re in the ant hill dungeon right now.” Aniso admitted.

“What?!” Symon shouted. As he did, his colors flickered through some kind of magical force, but only for a moment.

“Calm down! It’s okay. It’s just that last night you got a little out of control and you were unresponsive, so for your safety and everyone else's, we put you here.” He explained with a nervous but sympathetic smile. 

“Oh… I… uhm…” Symon couldn’t formulate a proper response as his head swam with emotions. He sat up, tears still streaming down his face that was hot with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Aniso opened the iron door into the cell to show that he wasn’t locked in, and moved to comfort Symon, sitting by his side. “Hey, it’s okay. No one’s mad.”

“It’s not that.” Symon corrected, wiping his eyes. “I got my memories back.”

A smile rose on Aniso’s face. “Really? That’s wonderful, did you figure out how this happened?”

Symon sniffled pathetically before breaking down into tears again.

“Woah woah, Hey…” Aniso pulled Symon into a hug and stroked his back. “It’s okay you don’t gotta talk about it.”

Symon surrendered to the embrace and wept into Aniso’s shoulders, 

“There there… just let it out.” Aniso hummed.

“Is this the miinu that caused so much trouble last night?” Another voice called out. Both Aniso and Symon turned to see in the hall a very tall ant dressed in elegant robes and adorned with jewelry. She looked like a taller, more mature version of the smaller ants. Her brown hair was a slightly longer bob poofed into waves at the end, Her dress was simple robes adorned with geometric patterns and decorated with gold bangles. She was accompanied by her two smaller counterparts, both dressed in iron armor and mean-mugging Symon. 

“Queen Pono!” Aniso greeted with a slight nervous squeak to his voice. “So sorry about what happened. This is Symon, a miinu I found out in the woods with amnesia and I had been helping him out.”

“Q-queen?” Symon swallowed thickly.

Queen Pono looked down at Symon unimpressed. “So a stranger to our tribe comes in and the first thing he does is mess with our sacred magical artifacts, scare my citizens, and damage the main hall?”

“Did I really do all that?” Symon murmured.

“To be fair, those last two things were out of his control, your majesty.” Aniso argued. 

“They wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t touched the stone without permission in the first place.” She shot back.

“You're majesty, for all we know, this could be a spy for the Yellow Jackets!” The small soldier ant chimed in, “Who else would have reason to attack our most precious sanctuary?”

The Queen held out her hand to quite the ant. “Now, now, let us not jump to such conclusions. Hiring non-hive members aren't exactly their MO.” She said before returning to Symon. “Explain yourself, cicada.”

“I… I was cursed!” He blurted out. 

The Queen didn’t expect that answer, judging by the subtle change in her face, eyebrows cocking in intrigue. “What kind of curse?”

“I found a stone, just like the one in your village. When I made contact with it. I… I-” He choked down an emotional reaction bubbling in his throat recalling the memory. “I was transformed into this.”

Queen Pono placed a thoughtful hand on her face. “Hmm… interesting. I haven’t heard of such a thing happening, but knowing the power our artifacts possess, it’s not unlikely. So human-”

“Symon.” Aniso corrected.

She narrowed her eyes in annoyance, “Right. Symon. Where did you find this stone?”

Symon took a breath and recounted as much as he could, barring any mention of his hideous transformation the curse wrought. He feared that if he attempted to even put what happened into words, he would be sick to his stomach. The queen listened intently to his story, and as she did, her face grew grim. Her entourage murmured in audible whispering to each other.

“I see, this is a dilemma indeed.” She replied. “That sounds like the stone of Precursor Village, and if they don’t have it…”

“I have to finish what he started…” He muttered to himself before looking back up at the Queen. “What… what happens if they don’t have it?” 

“Papilo would be able to give you more information on that. But in short,  our very existence relies on the magic our stones provide. Who knows what could happen if they were to go missing.” 

“Then we must retrieve it! I know exactly where it is, I could take you there right now!” Symon stood up quickly and wobbled on his feet. They were still weak and he was sore from sleeping restlessly on the floor.

“Woah buddy!” Aniso steadied him. “I get you’re excited, your house is probably a long way off from here, you need a little more rest before you can make that journey.” 

“I can make the trip.” Symon protested. “I managed to get here in the first place, didn’t I?”

“And I found you bloodied, starving and about to be eaten by a spider. We should at least wait for your wound to seal before going out.”

Symon had almost forgotten about the wound. Its dull pain was merely an echo of everything he went through before, and a painful reminder of how he left things with his family. Could he even show his face to them again? The thought of seeing those horrified looks on their faces again tied his stomach into knots. 

“Alright, we’ll hold off on it until I’m healed up.” Symon conceded. 

“Perfect.” Aniso grinned. He turned to the Queen. “Is it okay if we go now? I promise I’ll keep an eye on him and keep him out of trouble.

“See to it.” She squinted. “Go. I hope I don’t see you down here again.” 

Aniso guided Symon out of the ant tunnels, which despite being made of packed dirt had pretty advanced architecture throughout. Though the tunnels were just a touch too short for Aniso and Symon to navigate without crouching. Many ants bustled through the halls with ease, bumping into the two and giving them looks as they passed. They were finally able to climb out the entrance into the Grotto where the tree’s interior was being repaired by the ants. The damage wasn’t extensive, but certainly noticeable. Pottery and glassware were shattered, and a few platforms collapsed. Most notably, several cracks formed in the base of the tree right in front of the stone.

“Did I do all of this?” Symon said with concern.

Aniso fluttered back into the air, rubbing his legs. “Um… yes? A little bit? Lottle…bit. You kinda exploded last night, but like, with sound.” He explained. “Honestly I’ve never seen magic like that.”

“Magic? I had no idea I was capable of that.” Symon said, his tone full of concern and worry.

“Look, like Queen Pomo said, the stone has a HUGE magic potential. It’s like a battery in a way, that’s why we aren’t supposed to mess with it.”

“I see…” Still Symon rubbed his arm in shame. 

Aniso watched Symon with a frown, and had an idea. “You know what you need. You just need to get your mind off things. You should meet everyone in town! I’m sure they’d love to meet you.”

“I don’t know Aniso, I’d kinda like to keep things low until I can get this situation sorted out.” Symon admitted.

“Come on! It’ll be fun! I’ll take you on my mail route!”

“Mail route?” Symon tilted his head.

Aniso took Symon over to a mailbox at one of the walls. He could read the words ‘Post Office’ written in Miinish on a wooden sign, but said post office was little more than the singular mailbox tucked inside a wooden crevice. Aniso picked up a duffle bag that was hanging gingerly on a hook and threw it over his shoulder. He popped open the door of the mailbox, and about a dozen letters and packages fell out. He carefully placed each parcel into his mail bag.

“I’m actually the mail carrier in town, ‘cause I'm the best flier and the fastest one here, so I can get my job done fast.” Aniso explained. “You wanna see~?” He held out his arms.

“Does a village this small even need a mail carrier?” Symon questioned.

Aniso evaded the question. “Come on… you’ve barely even seen the village. What else do you have to do today?”

Symon relented with a sigh and an eye roll and held out his own arms. Aniso scooped Symon up in two of his arms and zoomed up through the center of the grotto. He used his other two hands to frisbee the letters into the mail boxes with perfect accuracy. He barely spent a second on a single floor before he was moving to the next.

“Wow, that is fast.” Symon blinked, impressed but also clinging on for dear life like a frightened cat.

“Ha! You should see when I have all four arms available. Oh-!” Aniso paused on the floor and landed by one of the many doors deeper into the tree, setting Symon on his feet. “Opportunity to meet someone new, spotted.” 

Aniso tossed a package in his hands and knocked on the wooden door. Answering the door was a chubby, middle aged looking ladybug Miinu with white bob that curled around her cheeks, donned a black hairband and vibrant red and black polka-dot dress. The lady smiled as soon as she saw Aniso.

“Hello darlin’. Is that my latest fabric shipment?” She asked.

“Now, Mrs. Coco, you know I wouldn’t snoop on your mail like that.” Aniso replied with a charming grin.

Mr. Coco laughed. “Ah, polite as always. And whose is this with you?” She turned her attention to Symon.

“This is Symon! He’s new in town, and I was actually hoping that you could help us find something for him to wear.” Aniso explained.

“Well I certainly was wondering if he was making a statement or not.” She looked him up and down.

“Uhm…” Symon self consciously hid his body behind his hands at the sudden realization of his nakedness. Though now that he thought about it, he was instinctively hiding private parts he no longer could feel or see down there. Where did they go? A question for another time, for sure.

“Oh don’t worry about it hun,” She chuckled. “I’ll get you something real nice! Come in! Come in!”

Mrs. Coco guided the boys into her home. It was a cozy little hole in the tree no bigger than a studio apartment… for bugs. Her living space was decorated top to bottom in colorful fabric and handmade clothes. Half finished projects and sewing supplies were scattered across the table. A table that was made from an empty spool of thread at that. 

“Mrs. Coco is our local seamstress. She’s provided the outfits for, like, half the village.” Aniso explained to Symon.

“Alright let me see here.” Mrs. Coco looked him over. “There’s so many possibilities for a look that’s right for you. I mean looked at those gorgeous colors, and those gold wings. I have to say you are one of the handsomest cicadas I’ve seen.”

“Ah, heh heh, well…” He blushed a bit at the unexpected compliment. He hadn’t actually considered that his form may be beautiful to the other Miinu, rather than the monstrosity he perceived it to be. He had to admit though, Tacua Speciosa was a spectacular cicada. It’s colorful neon bands striking through a slick black, it's a truly impressive insect, he just wasn’t sure how he felt being one. 

“Is there anything you had in mind hun?” Mrs. Coco asked.

“Well, honestly just a comfortable pair of trousers would do, to be honest. And something to cover up…” He gently touched the bandages on his chest.

“Hmm… well that’s incredibly vague, you got a style that you prefer?” 

“Ah..” He thought for a second. “I suppose I just like things that are elegant, but professional.”

She pulled out a long string of beads. and began wrapping it around his body as if to measure it. It was a strange way of doing it, but if he were to guess, it seemed like each bead was perfectly a millimeter apart allowing for some sort of accurate measurement. The ladybug then trotted over to a chest and pulled out a pair of grey trousers that looked like they were made from scrap denim. 

“How about these?” 

Symon touched the fabric and recoiled in disgust. He always hated certain fabrics for how awful their texture felt on his hands, and denim felt like sandpaper.” 

“I’m sorry, is there something softer?” He asked.