Dust

D U S T

in·fin·i·tes·i·mal

ˌinfiniˈtes(ə)məl

adjective

1. extremely small.

noun

1. an indefinitely small quantity; a value approaching zero.

A sound like thunder echoed throughout the void of empty air, scattering the cloud layer and replacing the sky itself with a color of magenta. So vast and almost endless, going beyond what the eye could even comprehend. But he could somewhat comprehend it, because he had seen sights like this his entire life and was entirely used to it.

“DUUUUUUST MITE! WA-A-A-AAAAKE UPPPP!!”

He nearly jumped out of his fur from the booming words that echoed all the way down to him, nearly deafening him by the second shout. He groaned tiredly, slowly sitting up and rubbing his temples to try and soothe the oncoming headache that was associated with being stimulated by noises that were far too loud to stand. “You don't have to shout!” He himself shouted up, but he had a good reason to. The being above could not even hear him unless his voice became strained to as loud as he could possibly muster. Meanwhile, her own voice could be kept to a whisper to make it more comfortable, if still not loud, to the being known as Dust Mite. But she yelled just to see how much he could stand of her and annoy him, and half wondering if her raised voice could make him 'pop', a rather joyous little thought despite how malicious the after effects were.

The sky of magenta shifted, many miles of the color passing by in a consistency that was comparable to fur before the sky was suddenly white, then colored again but this time a deeper purple, and then it was nothing but black. A loud rumbling filled the air, shaking him to his core and rattling his bones, but he was partly unfazed by this. As before, he was used to stuff like this. A wall, this time magenta again, many miles thick overcame the black and the dark purple and the white, closing over the surface area fully before rising over it again to reveal it all once more.

Blinking. Such a massive event was simply an eyelid covering a pupil to remoisturize it and to keep dust and dirt out. Dust Mite gazed skyward, staring into the enormous pupil of his little sister, how laughable it was given how so much more massive she was in comparison to his tiny form, his height in relation to his own namesake. He stood up to his hooves and stretched, his lithe form toned and a silvery grey, his wings fluttering out to get their own morning stretch. If he were of, say, a more normal height, his wingspan would be quite impressive to any pony and certainly enough to make any other pegasi envious, but he could not impress anyone with it given he wasn't even comparable to a fraction of a sliver of down off of a loosened feather. The harsh reality of being small was a bitter one to face.

Another staccato of thunder roars, when in reality it was simple giggling. “Had to get you up somehow sleepy-head!” Lilycup giggled. She was small in stature even for her young age, but always enjoyed feeling so huge when around her brother. Her form was slender, a unicorn with magenta fur and a cotton candy blue mane in a messy scraggle that was rarely kept and dared any brush or comb to try and tame it. “Besides, you've overslept anyway.”

“Nowhere to go and nothing to do . . .” Dust grumbled to himself. “Sleep is better than sitting around all day.”

“Don't be like that Dusty.” Lilycup frowned, the sky-eye peering down at him narrowing and the higher portions of the atmosphere that were her eyebrows furrowed. “You have to seize the day!”

“Not much I can 'seize'.” He repeated, crossing his arms. “If you haven't noticed in the years you've lived with me, I can't exactly do what . . . normal ponies do.”

“You're just being a negative-nancy.” She stuck out her tongue. Even though he couldn't see it, he could definitely hear the great parting of her lips and the slick, wet noise of her tongue hitting empty, dryer air. Being so small gave a very different hearing on the most minuscule of sounds, magnifying them to unwanted volumes.

“And you're being an airhead. Again.” Dust retorted, sticking out his own tongue even though Lily in return could not see it unless she had an incredibly strong microscope on her.

“Hey, what did mom say about calling names?” The younger one pouted. “Do you want to end up back in my hoof-slipper again?” She half-threatened, raising and stomping her hoof, the sound distant and echoing.

“. . . No . . .”

“Then you should have in the years we've lived together learned to be a lot nicer to your BIGGER little sister.” She leaned in closer, the black hole of a pupil closing the great gap until Dust was sure he could just flap his wings up and be within touching distance of the thing. All she had to do was blink and a great, mighty wind was swept up, knocking Dust away with the powerful force the young girl could conjure with the lightest muscle twitch.

He was sent flying backwards many, many yards to him, though to Lilycup the mite she called brother hadn't even moved at all. With a grunt and a twist of his wings Dust righted himself mid-air, flapping to steady his body and flow with the wind until it died down, hovering there as he growled up at her. “Hey, be careful! You know how dangerous that is to me!”

“Everything's dangerous to you.” She rolled her eyes, the generated sound akin to a thousand rumbling rollercoasters taking off on their tracks, slow and audibly low, but picking up to manifest all at once into a cacophony of noise. “Now c'mon, mom has breakfast ready.” A shadow began to loom over him, darkening the area for miles and miles as two enormous fingertips began to close in on him.

“Mind if I hike it own my own today?” Dust asked, causing the fingertips to halt, their looming presence still making him nervous with how close their gigantic stature was to him, always giving the sense of imminent and possible crushing. “Need to give my wings a stretch, I haven't flown in a while.”

A short pause followed as Lilycup hummed in consideration, a low thrum that resonated deep within his bones and lightly shook the ground beneath him. “You know how mom and dad don't like you going unsupervised . . .” She reminded.

“Please?”

“I dunno . . .”

“Please?” He repeated, tone bordering on begging. This caused Lily to crack a smirk, the familiar sound of lips parting and fur moving into that certain shape of sound off so far away. That always meant two things: Trouble and embarrassment.

“Hmm . . I suppose so . . . if you'd do a little favor for me.”

The tiny mite known as Mite sighed exasperatedly. “Fine. What is it that you want me to do? This time?” He added. This was quite a common thing. “Want me to make Diamond Tiara think she has fur infestation again? Fly around in your ear and at least try to clean out the ear wax? Ugh . . . " He blushed. "Clean your hoof? Or at least fractions of it at least?"

"Hehe . . . I'll let you know in time Dusty." She leaned back, stepping away from her tiny brother, giving him a wave and a wink before trotting off, every step thunderous and earth-shaking. Dust Mite was taken aback. Normally her demands in trade for his freedom was usually 'here and now' sort of stuff. Well, at least he could shrug it off, but the sense of dread for what laid in the future made him shudder a bit.

Giving himself a little stretch once more, he spread his wings and flexed them. With a slow intake of breath he took a running start before pushing off of the ground, soaring up into the open air. He looked behind him, his tiny little 'room', really just a piece of lint for a bed resting on a shelf in the corner of a closet, looking far away as he zoomed away from it. He was small, everything else was big, but this speed he had while flying, this insane sense of mobility is what he lived for despite his talent was basically being just small. In a world more colossal than he could imagine, everything controlling and watchful, flying was when he could be himself, be free.

In a couple minutes he left the closet, flying through the open crack in the door and out into the vast, vast hallway. Everything was always blurry and far away, so he didn't bother looking at the family photos that he was in but couldn't be seen, didn't look at the accomplishments his siblings had done at normal sizes. He didn't want to think about it on his way to the kitchen.

As he entered the air space of the kitchen, he was assaulted with a blast of sensations. Heat from the oven, the smell of oats and pancakes, the sounds of booming laughter and scraping chairs against a linoleum floor far away. Well, time for breakfast. And to hear his mother ramble on again about him flying alone. He would most likely be scolded instead of his sister. The usual bit about how his safety was of the utmost concern and how he couldn't do what 'other' ponies could do without consequence. He was eighteen. He already knew this rhyme back and forth.

With another mighty flap he shot towards the table, the visages of his mother and sister off in the distance, a bevy of breakfast items waiting, more food than he could ever eat in his entire lifetime just sitting there. However, something felt a bit off. He found his flapping wasn't nearly as effective this time flying. He wasn't covering nearly as much distance as he usually did. Dust was beginning to feel...tired.

It just so happened today that a thought crossed Small Smiles' mind as she cooked. Why not open a window this morning? It lets in fresh air, sunshine, and gets rid of the heat of the oven. This fresh air created a strong wind draft that was currently holding Dust Mite back, and with the lightest of breezes, sucked him outside flailing and screaming, not even heard or seen.

"Where's Dust Mite?" Small asked, sitting down and glancing over at her thirteen year old daughter, Lilycup flashing a fake smile.

"I uhh...let him fly to the kitchen today."

Small sighed. "You know that's dangerous for him Honey. Go fetch him and bring him here for breakfast. Poor little guy, probably isn't even out of the closet yet." She sighed, taking a sip of her coffee as her shrunken son desperately tried to right him amidst the confusion of getting sucked outside by a wind current, somewhere he had never actually been before.

It was going to be a long day.