To be honest, I don’t really understand human standards of time.
To me, it’s all just summarized as “a while ago,” “recently,” “yesterday,” or “tomorrow”—mere instants—yet humans die even when I’m just breathing. The same goes for other living things, but for beings with intelligence, humans die incredibly fast.
Perhaps that’s why humans divide and record units of time in such detail. I don’t know what difference it makes, but they die just from breathing, so I suppose each day must be precious to them. I just accept it as it is.
Anyway. Even for someone like me, this was quite a long time ago.
I don’t know exactly when it started. At some point, humans began gathering and living at the base of my home.
Humans call my territory the White Snake Mountain Range. There aren’t many white snakes in my territory, though. I don’t know why they call it that, but it seems like a pretty name anyway.
Then one day, for some reason, humans set out a feast of delicious things in front of my home. Are they giving this to me to eat? When I appeared, they were incredibly startled. When I asked if there was anything I could do to thank them, they asked me to make it rain.
The sky isn’t my domain, so that would be a bit difficult. It’s not that I can’t do it, but right now the young plants need to grow, and if they get rained on, the little ones will die, which would be problematic. When I asked why they needed rain, they said they had no water. Water for them to drink, water for the plants. So I asked if water alone would suffice, and they said yes.
As thanks, I carved out a small stream and sent water down to them. Water overflows here, so it wasn’t difficult at all. The humans were overjoyed.
They gave me more gifts—lots of colorful cloth and shiny things. I was grateful too, so I granted most of their requests.
The things they called “requests” were all too easy and simple, yet what the humans gave me were curious and pretty things. There’s nothing bad in it for me. They’re good to me, so I’m happy too.
That’s how we became quite good neighbors.
I hadn’t gone down there for a while, but recently I went down almost every day. Since it had gotten cold and everyone was sleeping, I had nothing to do. I was bored, so I went to see what the humans were up to these days.
I’m sure I remembered there being only a few hundred of them, but I don’t know when their numbers increased like this. Humans call this a city. They even built something called a castle over there. The human leader lives there, apparently.
What? You’ve been living in packs in my territory and haven’t greeted me once?
The last human pack leader I remember was Phellos, and by human standards, that was 1,200 years ago. To me, it’s just been “a while,” but by their standards, isn’t that an incredibly distant time? I feel a bit hurt.
No, wait. Humans come in many varieties and have short lifespans, so they can forget quickly. Plus, their numbers have grown enormously, so maybe they’ve become able to live happily without playing with me anymore. Well, that’s a good thing.
While I was thinking about this and that and looking around, I found something incredibly beautiful there.
My goodness, to think something this beautiful exists. Jet-black hair and amber-like brilliant eyes, and on top of that, I can faintly sense an ancient blessing.
They’ve definitely received a star. Why is something like this just lying around so carelessly? Are star-blessed individuals common among humans now? This is strange. Even in my territory, receiving a star is truly, truly rare.
“You’re really beautiful.”
“…What the hell is this crazy bastard?”
I spoke to them because they were so beautiful, but they turned out to be a rather aggressive individual. The thing was quite wary of me. The other young ones around for some reason looked around nervously and gradually scattered away. So only that thing and I remained.
“Hello? What should I call you?”
“Why the hell should I care! Fuck off! You pervert!”
And they ran away. Why? Wasn’t that a reasonably polite greeting? It’s something I learned quite a long time ago, but isn’t this how humans greet each other? Is it because it’s sunset? So the very next day, as soon as the sun rose, I went to find them again.
“What are you trying to do with me? Even if you sell me, you won’t get much!”
“Sell you? You? Why?”
I’ve heard that humans obtain what they need with something called money. I don’t know the details. But why would I need human money? Pretty jewels or well-carved stone pieces would be nice since they’re pretty, but those are nice to have, not necessary.
In the first place, I like beautiful things, but I’m not desperate enough to torment weak humans who don’t live long just to obtain them. I already have so much—why would I torment such pitiful things?
“I just came to see you because you’re beautiful.”
“What’s wrong with your eyes? This is seriously crazy.”
“Is it strange to come see something beautiful?”
“Why would you come to see a beggar kid thief like me?”
“You don’t know that you’re beautiful. Why do you think that way?”
They called me a weird bastard and ran away again. Several more nights passed like that. I kept going to see them. Maybe because they’re a young individual? They had quite a temper—feisty as hell—but that was cute too. They’re beautiful anyway. When I kept coming to see them, they finally told me why they weren’t beautiful.
They said they weren’t beautiful because they had nothing, were dirty, and even stole things as a kid. It was truly strange talk.
“You can just fill what you don’t have.”
“I don’t even have food to eat, where would I get money?”
“What you need is human wealth?”
“…I’ve been thinking this, but you really talk weird. And you go around wearing strange clothes too.”
“I’m strange?”
“Just looking at your clothes, you’re a noble, right? No matter how blind I am, I know that’s silk.”
These are clothes some human gave me before—they must be good. I’m not really sure, but I guess you have to reach a certain level to wear them. I just thought everyone wore different things because they had different tastes. Is there some kind of established order among them?
“You’re smart.”
“You’re seriously insane. I think I’m going crazy too.”
“What would you do with that wealth?”
“Money is good to have. You can eat, sleep in good places, buy warm clothes to wear….”
My goodness, these things die just from breathing, yet they have to solve all survival activities with this thing called wealth. Food is something you hunt or gather, and for sleeping, you just make a nest.
I don’t understand clothes. Maybe it’s because they don’t have fur, but I remember other intelligent beings only used them for decoration. Even then, I’ve rarely seen anyone bother with them.
Their durability is truly pathetic too. How do such weak things multiply and live in such numbers?
“What about your mother or father?”
“Would I be begging and stealing if I had those?”
They must have become independent early. It’s strange, though. I thought humans raised their young to adulthood before letting them be independent. This one is still too small to even reproduce, yet they were made independent this quickly despite having no parent.
Don’t pack-forming individuals usually help their own kind? I heard humans are especially devoted to their kin.
“Can’t you ask other individuals for help? You’re a hatchling. Your kin will help you.”
“I don’t know what this hatchling thing is, but why would others help me? Is there a sucker who’d feed and clothe a beggar kid?”
They don’t even care for their own young. Was I mistaken? But this individual received a star, right? They’re an incredibly precious individual, yet they just leave them be?
“Then what can you eat?”
“…Will you give me something?”
“If I can.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re beautiful.”
“I’m not beautiful. Your eyes are just messed up. I’m so dirty I don’t even remember when I last washed….”
“Are you herbivorous or carnivorous?”
They kept insisting they weren’t beautiful, so I just said what I wanted to say. At my question, the thing looked at me with suspicious eyes and asked.
“What’s that?”
“Um…. The difference between plants and meat?”
“Then meat.”
Are humans carnivorous? I think I saw them eating plants before, but they seemed closer to omnivorous…. Anyway, this individual seems to like meat.
No, I thought so, but I was wrong.
“How am I supposed to eat this?”
“It’s meat.”
“It’s a corpse.”
“You can’t eat this?”
I caught them a rabbit, but they said they couldn’t eat that. What, do I need to give them something smaller? When I caught them a mouse, they shrieked and ran away again. So next time I brought strawberries, and they ate those well.
“You’re herbivorous. Why did you say carnivorous?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never eaten meat. I just said it quickly because others said it was good.”
“Ah…. So it’s not that humans as a species can’t eat meat.”
“I can eat it too, you know? I just, I just can’t eat it raw!”
That beautiful thing was smarter than I thought. Maybe they seem even more so because I don’t want much. Honestly, for an intelligent being, I think they’re quite lacking in many ways, but I understand since they’re a hatchling and had no adult to educate them.
It’s impressive that they figured things out on their own when no one ever taught them.
That’s how I came to visit that beautiful thing every day. Beautiful things really are the best. No matter how much I look, I don’t get tired of it. Every time I see them, it’s new. Maybe because their lifespan is short? They grow quickly too. Every time I see them, they’ve changed.
I gave that beautiful thing food and obtained human clothes for them. At first, I thoughtlessly brought clothes I just had lying around, but they said if they wore such things, they’d die. Other individuals might kill them, so it was actually dangerous. So I brought reasonably warm sheep’s wool or other hides.
After some more time passed, the thing asked me.
“Why are you so good to me?”
“Because you’re beautiful.”
“…You’re not even going to capture me?”
“I don’t eat humans. Humans don’t taste good.”
They laugh, telling me not to make such jokes. But it’s true.
Humans really don’t taste good. Before, humans killed and prepared one of their own kind for me to eat, but it was absolutely inedible. Just bones and organs in abundance, and not even a handful of meat. On top of that, needlessly full of blood and just hide—nothing to eat.
And that was an adult they caught for me. To get less than a handful of meat from such a large individual—I really don’t know how they even walk around. Their bodies are just full of water. The organs are incredibly bitter and tough, and when you chew them, only water squirts out—there’s really nothing to eat.
It’s not just me—unless they’re on the verge of starving to death, few individuals eat humans.
Even orcs, who are said to eat anything, don’t eat humans and throw them away.
“Hey, what’s your name?”
Name? A name is something used to designate something. But is there anything about me that’s unknown? How many things are bold enough to dare designate me? And there’s no need to call me by that thing called a “name.”
My existence is clear in itself—why would I need a name to confirm it? But this thing wants to designate me. They want to call me, who is already a solid existence, something different. I thought for a moment.
Still, there weren’t none who wanted to definitively point to me. Sometimes they used special words containing their own thoughts and feelings. But…. did humans have enough standing to designate me? I don’t think so. I shrugged my shoulders.
“A name? My name is hard for humans to say.”
“…If it weren’t for that human talk, you’d really be a decent sucker….”
I think “sucker” was a bad word before, but putting it with “decent” and a “bad thing” feels a bit strange.
After thinking for a moment about what to do, I changed it to words humans could say.
“Headless dog, eyeless head, cursed white snake, progenitor of oak trees.”
“…What kind of name is that?”
“I don’t know what word defines this in human language, so I just said the literal meaning.”
“What did other people call you?”
What did they call me… It’s been quite a while, so it’s hazy.
“So…. Levia Rishian?”
“Those people were all crazy bastards too. How do you give a person a god’s name?”
“That can’t be. I have divinity, but I’m not a god. I’m just something old.”
Humans seem to be greatly mistaken. I’m just an old existence, not a god. If I had to categorize it, I think I’m closer to a world. Like the whale that eats nightmares, or the first tree—I’m the same as those kinds.
No, by human standards, I might be no different from a god. Like the Durga who worship dragons.
“More than that, what’s your name?”
“You’re asking pretty quickly.”
“I asked from the beginning. You just didn’t answer.”
You kept cursing and running away, so at some point I stopped asking. I asked from the very beginning. The thing grumbled and spat out words as if tossing them.
“I don’t know. I don’t have a grand name like you.”
“I see. So you just don’t have one.”
It can’t be helped. A name that doesn’t exist won’t suddenly appear. This thing is an especially young individual, and since there’s no kin to protect them, they might not have needed anything to be designated by.
But I wanted to call this thing. I didn’t want to call them “human” like other humans. I wanted to designate them separately.
“Then make one.”
“There’s no real need.”
“I didn’t really need one either, but I asked for a designation to call you. I’m going to call you too.”
I don’t know if I spoke properly. Just resonating would be convenient. Thinking of what to say, conceptualizing the form, and converting it to sound is too cumbersome. I have to go through two or three processes just to say one word.
But it’s okay. This one is beautiful and cute, and the more I look, they’re even lovable. Though they have somewhat sensitive and fierce aspects, well, if a young individual survives alone without protection, that can happen.
They’re a hatchling. At this age, everything is forgivable. Anyway, they’re cute. The thing seemed to ponder but soon became dejected with a sigh.
“I don’t know what would be good.”
“I don’t know many human names either. Phellos, Granche, Lamga…. Things like that?”
“If a beggar like me uses such names, they’ll kick me out.”
“Those are the names of humans I knew. I can’t give them to you again.”
“Those bastards must have been real brazen bastards too. To use such names without fear.”
A name is a name—I don’t know what there is to use or not use.
“You’re going to call me. Try attaching something you’re comfortable with.”
“But it’s your name.”
“Did you come up with your name yourself?”
“Definitely not. They called me whatever they wanted to call me.”
“If you’re going to call me anyway, just do as you please.”
That seems right. Separate from being an immature individual, they’re smart. Knowledge and wisdom are separate things, they say. I used to wonder what that meant, but seeing it now, it seems right. So there really are such special individuals.
“Miros. How’s that?”
“…Does it have a meaning?”
“Divinity.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. I don’t think I can handle it.”
Isn’t this a pretty straightforward name? A name meaning “new star” for an individual who received a star isn’t anything to make a big deal about, right? But this thing doesn’t seem to think so.
“I’m going to call you that. If you want, ask me to call you something you like later.”
“…Forget it. Why would I have two or three names?”
Though they grumble, their cheeks turned bright red. Do they like it? Do they dislike it? I can’t tell which.
And so I came to call that thing Miros.
