。。。

 

It has been some weeks since I have been… inducted? Into the village, which by the way, is named after the place we are located in. “Daivette Village” in which “Daivette” is the name of the giant forest surrounding the village. 

There’s a whole story about how “...It is an heirloom inherited by us from the era of” …something, I forgot the name. And “Is the forest named after us or are we named after the forest?” That still confuses me, both because of my lacking vocabulary,  and a whole lot of mysticism that surrounds that story.

 

I learned a lot these past few days. Well, not actually that much, because the elven language is a nightmare to learn to speak, and much less write. But I’ve learned enough to be able to do… very… rudimentary conversations.

This language is fundamentally different from any other language I know, having both straightforward words and terms with more than one meaning. Words with over-complicated terms and innuendos that change a lot depending on context or tone of voice. And sounds with phonemes that I’m not used to making with my mouth.

And that’s just the language portion, their written system is utterly alien to me, who is used to the Latin alphabet and the straightforward way it is used to create words and sounds.

No, their system looks like a constantly flowing cursive script that can change meaning depending on how you connect each “character” to another, and doing differently can change both the meaning of the character and the word interchangeably. Not only that, but it can also change meaning depending on height, size, and DIRECTION. So you can write something backward, upside down, or curved and it will have a different meaning than a similar thing written in straight lines.

 

Despite everything, even with all the hurdles I had, and still need to overcome. It has been quite interesting, fascinating even, and fun to study it and learn it! Even if Samyra can be a little strict sometimes, I, who practically already spent a whole lifetime dedicated to studying and long work hours, was more than ready to dive right into it.

At first, the time spent learning was really short, which confused me a lot at first, with me being used to spending 4 to 6 hours straight studying all week. Compared to the hell of the university bachelor’s lifestyle, a measly one or two hours was nothing. Which surprised her a lot, at first she was worried that, for some reason, I was starting to become a “book fanatic” like “a certain someone” and tried leading me to spend more time doing other things despite the somewhat pressing need for me to learn to be able to talk to people. Personally, I’d rather just stay inside the whole day and steal her time to learn all the intricacies and neat details of the language and finally get over the frustrating back-and-forth miscommunication.

Still, I managed to press the issue and convince her, somehow. Getting through to her despite the language barrier at the time.

Unfortunately, she had other things to do, and we settled for lessons in the mornings and evenings, leaving the afternoon empty. I was not sure what she wanted me to do at first, and I ended up spending that time just lazing around, watching Clauren work (from a safe distance away, and then some more because despite his friendliness he still creeps me out) or taking a long nap until the other lesson.

 

Fate had other plans for me though.

 

By the time the whole tutoring thing started, the whole town was pretty much aware of me, the “newcomer”. And that came with a fair quantity of nosy people, who kept visiting once they found out where the new girl was supposedly staying, which then led to people constantly knocking on the mine or Samyra’s door, which then led to a very irritated doctor by the time the fifth person came by to do an “obligatory visit” or “checking up on you” in the same hour.

Samyra found out how I was being “an unhealthy mushroom” and, together with Clauren, dragged me out to “be healthy” and “socialize and not copy Clauren’s bad habits”. Which led to a sputtering Clauren and a debate about how he was a bad influence on me.

‘Which… no. Just… no. I get where she was coming from, but it can’t be that bad, right?’

Anyways. That’s how I began to get mandated to be a “mushroom” elsewhere, at the local town square instead of inside within the safety of four walls and a roof. Despite me wanting to just hide in the comfort of a real bed all day. Away from the dangers of the outside world...

 

…I didn’t admit it then, but in one way or another, my time stranded in that forest had undeniably scarred me in ways that still went unnoticed by me until I took time to introspect.

 

And, now that I was vulnerable and out in the open, everyone wanted to take a look at the weird stranger in town…

…Especially the children.

 

The adults at least kept a respectable distance and just judged me from far away with a glint in their eyes. The kids, however, in all their energetic glory, grabbed me and dragged me left and right everyday to do something and I had to reluctantly be sucked into whatever their whims demanded me to do.

In the first few days, when I was still just starting to get used to the new language, my touch-starved self even enjoyed their constant buzzing and attention. It was a novel experience to have a bunch of kids fighting over who would drag me off to do this and that. There even had been a scuffle about it at one point.

Though, when I say constant attention. It means constant. attention.

They do the same things. Everyday. All the time. With little to no variation between everything. And they have a very limited repertoire of activities that they can do by themselves –at least, compared to the sprawling sea of entertainment options that I was used to.–

For all that they are considered “cute”, “angels”, etcetera. Being amongst them just feels… wrong, I’m out of place, and despite my current appearance, I do not belong. All the playing and games can be thrilling and fun to them, and I can get some satisfaction from easily winning against them most of the time. But everything has a sharp tinge of guilt and dissociation.

 

‘They are kids. You… are not.’ The realization took some time to sink in.

 

The smile I gave them became fake, any effort and participation in their games already were half-hearted and lacking any real interest.

So… I avoid them, despite the prodding Samyra gives me to have some interaction with the other people in the village, though by now she has somewhat resigned herself. I feel more at ease doing something productive rather than… playing… with the children.

 

I just… couldn’t. Could not accompany them and mingle with them without a creeping feeling of remorse. Every day, I’d look at myself in the mirror and see a child, with someone else under their skin.

I had already somewhat come to terms with that, despite the change of face, of gender, and species… I alone am the one that defines me. That I could begin anew from the start, carry the memories of an entire lost world on my back. But then came the question…

…Age.

Why couldn’t I be transmigrated, relocated, Isekai’d, possessed, or anything else? With a standard reincarnation, I at least would be possibly left with a facsimile of a family and time to adjust. But no, I didn’t get to keep my own body, didn’t get to keep any memento of what I’d lost… I got the option to either survive or die trying, left alone, left with nothing but the weight that my own legs could carry me.

I survived, I persevered, I only just started to begin to get comfortable in my own god-damn skin… And then back all the way to ground zero.

Having been barely an adult once, who has seen the depths and terrors of humanity, I am inevitably more mature than I look like. And now, saddled with a child’s body, with all the hormones and disposition of one and a –I twitch, unbidden memories welcoming themselves to my head.– considerable amount of memories and experiences that may possibly have traumatized me…. I can’t, won’t, stay near them.

 

。。。

 

After some time avoiding them, to varying degrees of success, I managed to get a decent amount of peace.

 

Nowadays the kids understand me a little better and I’m more often left to my own devices, after all the wonder wore off and I’d been labeled “boring” and “cold” to most of them. I was… glad that I didn’t need to keep up with them all the time, I never have been good with kids, and acting innocent and happy took its toll on me.

I finally got them to stop hounding me, but at what cost?

It hurt just a little bit, remembering a time long ago when I had… personally seen the way timid children got treated in a volatile environment… These kids aren’t so bad though, they are definitely way older than they look, because… Well, Elves. Though I don’t know if they have the same rate of maturing that humans have, honestly, some of them feel like they have the sort of experience you get for living decades, but still somehow retain that childish innocence and naivety. That happy ignorance of having lived inside a bubble.

 

‘*sigh* On a positive note, I can have some simple conversations now! Despite my… thoughts, on the matter. All of this gave me some good practice after all. No doubt my speech is incredibly choppy and broken, and I take a lot of time to remember the correct words and string them together to understand and reply to people… but still. Progress!’

‘Though I personally prefer to spend time around the older Elves, despite the apparent age and culture gap, they are easier to approach since I don’t have to act gullible in front of them. Since I don’t have anything to do during these times of the day, and felt antsy about doing nothing when I couldn’t bring myself to sleep, I lately took upon myself to sweep the grounds around the town squ—’

“AH! There you are! Hmph! Hiding again!” I’m suddenly jolted out of my hiding spot. A hand softly lands in my head and I feel a light grip around one of my horns. –thankfully, they don’t have pointy-stabby ends anymore since I began to blunt them. They are, well, not really that sensitive, but I feel them enough for it to be awkward and uncomfortable for someone to grab them.–

 

I recognize the voice. ‘Oh no… it’s her.’

 

“You’ve been avoiding me again!” Her name is Sedia. A very enthusiastic, cheerful, and extroverted kid. The sort of person that the other children gravitate towards, making her an unofficial unanimous “leader” regarding their activities most of the time.

She is also the same kid who dragged me around in a flower crow the first time we met.

“Ugh…” I grumble irritatedly at her, sprawling myself further so she can’t pick me up. ‘I’ll admit that I was… somewhat touch-starved that time. But after the first few days, she became a homing hassle that somehow always ends up finding me.’

“Come on! Up! Up! You’re missing out on a bunch of things! Parnem’s farm just got into harvesting season and Zenui is making sweets for everyone! Candy! Cookies! Pies! Don’t you want some?~” She turns into a conspiratory tone in the end, trying to entice me.

“.....no…..want………..” She’s dragging my boneless corpse through the grass now. You’d guess she'd be pulling by my hands or feet, but no, my horns turn out to be a perfect handhold for her to leverage my weight around. ‘She’s a lot stronger than she looks.’

“I’m sure tha— Wait? N-no!? But everyone likes candy!”

‘Bold of you to assume that…’ I joke to myself, giving up the joke halfway. ‘...Regardless, I already get more than enough sugar around Clauren and Samyra’s house.’ All this free time in my hands led to some developments in the kitchen when they left me to my own devices… Safe to say they have one more reason to boot me outside the house.

“......hmm……..want…sleep…”

“Hmph! Nuh-uh!” –did she just “nuh-uh” me?– “Miss Samyra came by earlier and found out about how you keep playing hide-and-seek by yourself! and gave me permission to take you wherever I want! She also told me you are “too smart for your own good” and said to not listen to you when you start complaining!”

 

‘Oh no… That woman has learned the power of delegation.’

 

“..........*whine*” I resign myself to my doomed fate. The plethora of different excuses I had in store thrown out of the window.

At some point I finally got up to walk instead of being dragged around, not wanting to besmirch my already more-than-lacking reputation. I was led to that gathering place beneath the giant tree’s canopy, where there were a bunch of people doing some sort of a mix between a free market with a bartering system and communal dinner.

 

。。。

 

They don’t really have a “market” so to speak here. There isn’t any reason for a currency or for material accumulation since this whole place is rather small and insular. So things often get traded around with favors and barters instead, and even then, there’s a strong community sense shared between all of them. Everything gets freely shared with everyone without much thought going on behind it.

“We don’t live in the forest... We live for the forest.” They told me once.

A rather simple answer… But one that explained a lot of things. They coexist together. Why hoard things to yourself? These types of thoughts have never even crossed their minds. There isn’t my house and your house, only our home. No division or differentiation between them. No insidiousness, no greed, no strife only… peaceful perpetualness.

It’s… quite beautiful, really. Though, I’m unsure if this sort of community could work on a larger scale.

Large metropolises divide and section themselves into parts out of necessity, after all. Not to mention capitalism. People chase after money and things, scrambling for happiness and sacrificing their bodies and health when just trying to live.

Here, they don’t have to worry about tomorrow, don’t have to worry about losing their home, don’t worry about hunger, health, or safety. They just… live. Without a care in the world. Unbothered, flourishing… happy.

 

。。。

 

I’m shaken out of my thoughts as we approach one stall where a person is handing out fried… roots? He’s placing them inside a basket lined with cloth at the same time he is cooking them. They are first boiled, turning them soft and whitish, before being dipped into a pink syrup and quickly rolled around in a white and brown powder so the sweet-smelling substance doesn’t drip down, getting trapped inside the powdery layer. They are set aside in line to get deep fried in a huge wok they are skillfully handling.

“Good afternoon! Mr. Zenui!” Sedia waves.

 “....hello.”

“Hm? Howdy, children!” They greet us. After flipping the entire contents of the wok over like a pancake, somehow not getting any of the boiling oil to spill. ”Feel free to take one or two, though remember to leave some for everyone else.” They turn, going back to manning the fire pit. Sedia takes the initiative to pick up 2 wrappers and carefully hands the hot foodstuff to me.

“...” I turn the… sweet stick? Candy root? Around and over, it looks like a mix of churros and a weirdly shaped corn cob. I give it a prodding lick.

It’s bittersweet and coarse. …Right, it’s just the flour layer.

Tentatively, I bite into it, ignoring the wide-eyed look Sedia gives me as she’s still blowing the heat of the stick.

 

‘...oh……..’ I close my eyes, relishing the savory taste…

 

’...Oh, this is good.’ I go to take another bite, but end up biting thin air instead… and a mouthful of paper wrapper. ‘Huh?’ looking down, I see that I’ve already finished eating it.

I don’t notice the shit-eating grin Sedia is giving me, nor the unbecoming noises I have made.

“......aw.” the food ran away somewhere, to the land of the fairies most likely. I’m sure of it.

“HOhohaha! I see that you’ve liked the breaded drasil quite a lot! …though please wait a bit for it to cool down, you gave me and your friend quite a scare, suddenly biting into it like that, it came straight out of the pan after all!” The newly-dubbed Master of Sweets says.

*giggle* “Yeah! Your tail and ears were wiggling and all!”

 

“...” A moment to parse her words, pause.

And think about what she just said again, pause again.

Just to be sure, replay that in my head a third time..

 

‘w h a t?’ I whip around behind me, covering my ears in embarrassment. I don’t see my tail, then I turn around again, and again.

I stop. ‘Dumbass, your tail is attached to your back, of course, you can’t easily do that.’

“~~~” I plead my case with a muffled noise… Crouching down in shame.

…Both of them are snickering. I hide my face from view from both of them.

 

“By the way…” The sweets seller starts, not taking his eyes away from the scalding pot. “I didn’t get the chance to have a good look at you before, but you are that newcomer everyone’s been gossiping about, yeah?” He said it as a question, but the answer was obvious.

I’m busy wishing the ground would open and swallow me forever. Sedia nods in agreement to him.

A mischievous glint crosses his eyes, “Hmm…” He puts another batch of the plants into the pot of water to boil. “How about this, I’ll let you grab one– no, two more! If you introduce yourself. I’ll start first, My name is Zenui! Nobody in this town cooks better than me!” Someone in the distance shouts something that sounds vaguely accusing and threatening. “*cough* ...At least when I’m dealing with sweets.” He ends. While fishing another batch from the oil.

“She’s…? Oh. I don’t actually know! I don’t think she ever told me her name, or anyone else. I and some of my friends have been just calling her ‘Suu’ because that’s the noise she makes when she’s sleeping!”

 

*Guhak* I choke, eyes widening. ‘T-they’ve been calling me what?! And since when have they been watching me sleep?!—’

 

Sedia catches onto my thoughts. *giggle* “I’ve been living here a lot longer than you have! Of course I know all the hiding spots!”

‘—WHAT DO YOU MEAN I MAKE “NOISES” WHILE I SLEEP?? AND WHAT HAVE I EVEN BEEN EVEN TRYING TO HIDE FOR THEN??’ I sink further into myself, crestfallen.

 

“Aa. Come on now, don’t be so harsh on her…” He looks down at me sheepishly, looking a bit lost on how to console the small child who’s bordering on crying in front of him.

“Hmph! That’s what she gets for being a stupid mushroom, did you know? There was even a time when she hid in the mud under the bridge! I’ve never seen someone use that sticky and dirty place as a hiding spot before!”

“.....ugh..” My dignified response.

“*ahem*” Zenui averts that line of conversation. “It looks like nobody really knows your name.” He starts awkwardly, not really having a good way to approach the subject. Everyone knows everyone in this village so it’s not every day that they have to do this whole introduction thing. “So?...”

 

I open my mouth, trying to think something not my old name and—

—my old name

—my name…

—what… What was my name again?

 

A sense of dread threads itself into me. I avert my eyes from the two of them, their inquisitive faces aren’t helping.

 

‘So… So that’s what I felt missing, that time.’ For some reason, the assuredness of this statement is undoubtful in my head, I simply know that’s the case without a shred of uncertainty in my heart. I can’t even begin to try and understand how this came to be, why would I forget such a deep, fundamental piece of who I am… or, was.

I close my mouth, not knowing how to respond. Last time, with Samyra, the issue was avoided by me going into… something. That then led me to suffering from a small coma, stopping any further inquiries.

 

‘Maybe I could just run away now… but…’

 

“............no.”

“”No?”” They both ask, confused.

“...no……….name.”

*cough* Zenui… thankfully doesn’t say anything.

“...”

 

The look on their faces right now doesn’t help the mixed feelings churning inside me, I duck my head, try not to look, not to see.

 

“*gasp* Huh?! That won’t do! Everyone needs a name!”

“S-sedia, come on now that’s…” He takes a deep breath.

“...”

“Hey, why don’t we come up with a name for you? I’ve never named someone before!—” 

“Sedia.” She stops.

 

Zenui takes a moment to get the Wok out of the fire, sighing. “...Look, Sedia, dear, I understand that you are very excited and, in your own kind of way, concerned for your friend. But, you don’t just decide like that for other people, understand?”

Sedia reluctantly nods once, then nods again with more surety.

“It’s one thing when parents name their child, it’s their child and they have all the rights to do so, but… your friend here, do you know her parents? Do you know of her or do you know her?” She looks a bit lost on that. “...Names aren't just names, they are the representation of someone, the epithet that is intertwined with people’s very soul and being. Given that they adopt it for themselves, or in the case of babies, given.” He explains, putting as much emphasis on the words as he can. “It’s, well, not exactly one of the lessons I’d expect to have to teach you, not now anyways, it’s not something that always comes up… You can ask more about your parents later.” He ruffles her head. “Nicknames are okay, but names carry weight, something that they will carry for their whole lives, until the end, and then some more. And what you were doing is a responsibility that you don’t understand, it’s not just something that we use to call each other, it’s… more—”

“I…” I interrupt, catching up with all the words he’s saying. “..........no…” searching for the right words, I take a deep breath and say. “I don’t mind.”

 

He looks me in the eyes, scrutinizing them deeply.

 

“You… No, you understand better than anyone don’t you?” He shakes his head, not quite sure how to deal with this. “By the way it looks…” He thinks about it, the way that she was introduced to everyone, but from afar and nobody really getting much more than a glimpse at her, that no one but a select few really knows about how she arrived, and even the few people that do regularly take care of her aren’t sure about it. “Sorry for asking, but… what about your family, or wherever you were… before coming here?” He grimaces.

I gulp down the torrent of memories that surge from the mention of family. –God knows the things that happened when I first learned that word– And I shake my head. I’m… I don’t want to talk about it.

He looks down at me in apparent sympathy, not drawing any conclusive conclusions, but understanding that it isn’t anything good. “Are you sure? Shouldn’t we talk about this with Clauren or Samyra, it’s… a big thing you know?”

“...it’s… better, like this.” I struggle to put the words forward, rattling my brain for all the words I have learned so far. “I’ll name myself…” I decide, being named by the people I’m living with would be awkward, and I don’t want to feel even more indebted to them, but relying on a kid, even if older than me, to come up with a name isn’t exactly… the best choice. “...but, help?”

“That’s… *sigh* Alright, certainly not what I was expecting to do today.”

 

Sedia isn’t looking the best right now, having been chastised like that…

…But she comes back around, her good-spiritedness unrelenting. “I-I… don’t really understand why it’s all such a big thing, but it’s important to you yeah? So… I’m sorry for being so pushy, I know some people like being alone for some reason, and I thought that you’d be more happy with this… and, and… sorry, I guess, for pulling you like that…”

She pauses, looking sheepishly at us.

“Is it… bad? That I already had something in mind?”

Zenui gives her a look. “*sigh* Well, since we’re here. What’d you have in mind?”

“W-well.” She flushes, looking at least a little ashamed. “We– me and some of my friends, tried to guess what your name was, since nobody knew, we all came up with different ideas and we each asked Miss Samyra if we were right. Though she made a sour face and didn’t end up answering anyone. And then we got all confused like, and got worried. And then we made a game of what nicknames would be the most cute, or more cool, and all that.” She scratches the back of her head.

“And then, uh, well, just ‘suu’ isn’t much, and we already have another kid with that nickname, and nobody could decide on anything, so, I thought, why don’t we combine nicknames then? And then we all got together to think about it.” One of Zenui’s eyebrows continues to rise along with her explanation. “So… hum, you’re always sleepy, or trying to sleep, and hiding away in faraway corners, and you came from the outside, where only the adults are allowed to go, and you are all different and pretty, and nobody really knows much about you and you are all mysterious, so we decided on ‘sleeping fairy’ because you are always sleeping, and came to visit after something bad happened to the village. And then we visited Grandma because she knows the most fancy words. So your nickname, or, ehe” –she laughs nervously– ”name would be…”

 

She clears her throat, straightening up... though, coming from the voice of a little girl, it doesn’t sound all that impressive.

 

“...Syuufarin.”

 

I take it all in. Slowly, take in the words she said, and… ‘I didn’t know… that… well, maybe I shouldn’t call them snotty brats too much anymore.’ I suppress a quiet sniffle.

“.........................It’s……………..nice…” I revert back to my slow speech, words are hard don’t judge me.

“*Tch* Can’t argue with that…” For all that the rocky start the girl had, it was actually well thought out. “Though, as her ward, I reckon that maybe you should go tell Samyra.”

‘That’s fair, I guess.’ I don’t protest much, doubting I could ever come up with anything myself… but before that…

 

I turn around.

“.....two……..please?”

“...” He takes a moment to stare at me incredulously “HA!” He loudly barks, drawing the attention of everyone nearby. “Here, take your damn drasils, now go! I’m not made to deal with for all this sappiness.”

 

——— –– –– -- - -