I'm Not a Dragon, I'm a Spirit
A newly born spirit possesses something known as the imprinting instinct. It is a phenomenon often seen in wild animals as well — put simply, it means regarding the very first being one lays eyes upon as one's mother and following it. Of course, since spirits possess next to no reproductive function, the concept of a parent does not even exist for them, so it would be just as accurate to say they simply obey the first creature they ever see.
"...?"
Here was a spirit. One who, in all her existence since birth, had never once been bathed in light. The place where she existed held nothing but darkness, always — a pitch-black, clinging dark, and at its very center she sat alone. Naturally, her knowledge of the world was close to nonexistent, for she had lived alone inside that darkness from the moment she came into being.
She knew nothing beyond how to move her own body. She had simply gone on existing, never knowing the sweetness of rest, not even the pleasure of taste.
"..If your husk and your sins are all washed away, then surely you will be able to come out again."
The only sound that ever reached her was this single sentence. Nothing more than a very beautiful voice, telling her to strip off sins and husks that did not even exist in her memory. That this day would never change, not ever — that was what she believed. Always.
"...?"
And yet. Some time ago, that same spirit had moved her body of her own accord. For a color other than darkness had appeared within her field of vision. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, one that might have ended as nothing more than idle curiosity — she did not let it slip away.
"Ungaaah~"
Her consciousness was pulled somewhere, once, and then began to reconstruct itself — outside, in a place brimming not with darkness but with beautiful color.
"Wow..."
The first colors she ever saw were so beautiful, and the first light she ever faced was so dazzling and warm. Her world, once filled with nothing but darkness, had in this very instant grown just a little wider.
"Ugh, so like I was saying—"
"Mom! Can't you buy me this one?"
"Hey, you little brat..are you gonna stop right there?!!"
But as mentioned, everything was a first for her now. The bustling noise rising all around her. The warm sunlight spilling over her through the window. The blue stream babbling away in the distance. All of it was achingly new, utterly unfamiliar.
And if that was so — how could she, who had spent her whole existence beside the darkness and grown accustomed to it, who might as well have been reborn anew in this very place, possibly fail to feel anxiety at surroundings so astonishingly strange? Especially when the darkness that had been her companion for as long as she could remember was nowhere to be seen?
"Uu...nnghhh"
At first, it must all have felt wondrous. There were so very many things she had never experienced. And at the same time, it must have been terrifying — the unknown, by its very nature, breeds fear simply by existing. Had she been even a slightly mature spirit, she would never have been swallowed whole by anxiety like this. Tragically, no opportunity to gain such maturity had ever existed for her. There had been no one at her side, and no one to look after her, not even once.
"Auu...nngh"
Drowning in unease, she looked this way and that, nourishing the faint hope that perhaps — even in this bright, beautiful world — her friend Darkness might be somewhere to be found.
"...?"
And there, before her eyes, appeared a color she knew all too well. Black — the very symbol of darkness. A deep, saturated black at that. Of course, the catch was that this color was moving, little by little.
"...."
She thought. Could this be Darkness? Could this be the true form of her friend Darkness, revealed at last? It had always been there beside her — so hadn't it followed her here once more, just to stay with her?
"..Yeah!"
She was certain. This was Darkness. It had come running because it could not forget her. She was certain.
"Heehee..."
Overjoyed at the thought that she was not alone in this world, she squirmed this way and that — but it lasted only a moment. Her gleefully bouncing finger brushed across the nape of the Darkness, and—
"Uweh?"
Just like that, once again, her consciousness was sucked away. Somewhere a little deeper, this time.
"Uheeeh..."
"..What is that thing?"
"..Heh?"
And when she opened her eyes once more, an ashen-gray woman sat serenely before her — still idly toying with the glittering crystals scattered around her. It was the instant the imprinting phenomenon activated.
The Ash Demon Dragon, Ivedia. The dragon said to have once borne upon her single body all the hatred and resentment this world could muster.
Long ago, it is said, a song like this one drifted through a certain village:
"When injustice swells beyond all bounds, it becomes a grudge entire —
and forth goes an ashen dragon, chasing the scent of that grudge.
A dragon that blooms and lives amid heaps of black ash.
As all the world resents her, so she resents it all.
And perhaps, this cycle shall go on forever~"
"Hey, what kind of song lyric is that? 'Injustice shall befall thee'..?"
"Catchy, isn't it? That wandering poet keeps spouting it all over the place."
"..Who are you even talking about?"
"Ah, right over— huh? He's gone?"
In truth, nearly every word of that song was true. She hated the world — for she had been born wearing the title of Demon. Because all the world resented her, she resolved to reject it in turn. She killed humans. She devoured beasts, tore apart the earth and everything raised upon it, and never once hesitated to kill even others of her own kind. For she was, in the truest sense of the word, a dragon who walked the heretic's path.
Leaning on another was something she had never once imagined; sharing her days with anyone was equally unthinkable. Right up until the moment that goddamn bastard's hand punched through her heart and she died.
..Was that why?
"No — I'm asking how you got in here?!"
"Heehee..."
"Stop laughing!!" What's so funny..
"Heuheuhng!"
"..Fine, forget it. Now, where was I..hey, you can't go over there!!"
The reason words would not reach the spirit standing before her now was—
'..Is my conversational skill slipping?'
"Aheh!"
"Hey!!"
"Heehee."
"..What a sorry sight this is."
To get to the point: it had been grueling. In the beginning, she had fully intended to kill the intruder on the spot, whoever it turned out to be. Crude and makeshift as it was, this was still her contractor's Mindscape now, and naturally she had no intention of looking kindly on some uninvited guest who barged into it at will. Well — truth be told, the feeling of her own dwelling being violated was the larger grievance.
'What kind of ballsy little pest dares waltz in here uninvited..!'
"Uheeeh..."
"..What is that thing?"
Never in her wildest expectations had she imagined the intruder would be a spirit. Not a phantom, not a god, not any other spiritual existence — a spirit, entering a Mindscape. She had known it was not impossible, but it was hardly ever done. Those haughty creatures only lent their power to humans who took their fancy; what conceivable reason would one have to descend into the mental world of a human like this?
"Hey, brat. Why did you come in here?"
Had this been the old days, she would have swallowed the thing whole with room to spare. Instead, she now extended the utmost courtesy — even resorting to the Spirit Language, which she had not spoken in ages. She had no desire to see the place she made her dwelling wrecked, after all.
'..If something breaks in this bastard's Mindscape, I'm the one who loses out.'
"..Heh?"
But she had overlooked one thing: that for a spirit imprisoned in darkness for so very long, the only human speech she had ever heard within it was the common tongue.
"..Heuheut!"
"Ah, for fuck's sake."
The Spirit Language was notorious even among humans for its convoluted pronunciation — of course the little thing couldn't understand it. And just like that, the dragon found herself wedged in a stalemate, free neither to advance nor retreat. Sharing her home with a spirit of unknown provenance rubbed her the wrong way, but they could not converse, and the thing looked young at even a passing glance — killing it felt somehow excessive.
"..Ah, right. There is that method, isn't there."
"...?"
But — whether by misfortune or fortune — this was the Mindscape. Dig deep enough, and memories and experiences tied to language were bound to exist here as well.
'And all I need do is pluck the language right out of them and pour it into her. Wasn't this the true, unadulterated form of rote education?'
From then on, it was simple. Time was the one thing she had in surplus since arriving here, and administering cram-school instruction to a know-nothing little brat was an absurdly easy task.
"Ive!"
"There, now that's more like it."
At long last, she had succeeded in dragging the little brat's intellectual level upward.
"..Mamang?"
"What kind of bullshit is that?!"
"Mamang! Kkamang!"
Though it seemed a measure of incorrect knowledge had slipped into the curriculum along the way.
"Ah, finally I can ask you things."
"...?"
"Brat, where did you come from? What's your name, and how did you get.."
That was the moment. The moment the Mindscape they stood in began to heave violently.
"Kyaaah!"
"Ah, hell..is this bastard dying?"
"..Die?"
"..He can't. If this bastard dies, who knows how long I'd have to wait all over again.."
She was still nothing more than a brat hopelessly clumsy with language, but by now she understood the meaning of simple words.
"..Die? Kkamangi will?"
"Hmm? Who's Kkamangi?"
Death. A word she had most certainly learned before.
'I don't..know this one..'
'..Ha, what is it..death?'
'Yeah...'
'..Well, I suppose kids these days would learn about that sort of thing.'
'Huh?'
'Ah, it's nothing. So, what this is..you see.'
Mamang had told her. Death was when someone left for a place you could never see them in again.
"Kkamangi..is leaving?"
"..What the..what is this.."
"Abandoning..me?"
She didn't want it. She truly, deeply didn't. For Kkamangi — who had always, always been at her side — to leave. She hated it more than dying.
"I'll..protect Kkamangi..!"
BOOM—
With a tremendous detonation, she was gone in an instant.
"..Where the hell did this brat even pick that up?!"
The dragon, left alone yet again, let out a wail — laced with the faintest trace of rage.
"Don't..hurt Kkamangi."
"..And who the fuck might you be?"