Slimes have been around for as long as anyone can remember. Even as far back as when the four Monarchs still walked the world, even before Garen appeared, there are accounts of slimes. Although they are by far the most abundant species of monster, their famous lack of strength and wit are not enough for them to be a major threat of any kind.

Regardless, one has to wonder what slimes have seen. They do not age and only die if burst; they move from place to place and grow larger the longer they exist. Reports have been made of hills rolling away after a certain period of time; perhaps a slime that fell asleep and was overgrown by grass? How old would a slime of such size be?

If slimes could talk, what would they tell us?

-Daro D’Vari, royal historian to Asterl

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The slime, if it was being honest, had very little idea as to what in the world was going on at the moment.

Olivai had finally caught up to Otto after a few minutes and had traded the slime for her staff. She was breathing much more evenly now, and her face was no longer flushed. The Koliph whom the slime had not yet been introduced to caught up some time later, looking mildly amused.

The slime was securely held in Otto’s arms. From its much higher perspective, it was able to see more of the forestation it’d been rushing through at a slower pace.

Late as it was, the whole forest was lit up in bioluminescent blues and greens, with some vibrant shades of yellow mixed in. Small mushrooms and giant flowers leaned out over the group as they walked, dripping water from the fresh rain. A clean, washed smell rose from the sodden grass, which the slime happily inhaled.

Otto raised the slime to his face, a faint smile on his face. “It’s so soft and squishy.” He gently squeezed it, and it squeaked in response. His smile grew larger, showing neat blocky teeth. “Ohhh, this is nice.”

Olivai studied the ground ahead of them, using her staff to steady herself. “Be careful with it, Farlan. It seems quite docile and I’d hate for its trust to be breached so - are you listening?”

As she’d been speaking, Otto had been making the slime squeak louder and louder, and he glanced up at her outburst. “Did you say something?”

She took a deep breath, clearly reconsidering her profession. “I trust you are aware what happens to slimes when you squeeze them too hard?”

Otto looked down at the exhausted slime, which was heaving slightly from the exertion he’d been putting on it. “Oh. Sorry.” He gave it one final squeeze, and Olivai promptly took it from him. Having prepared this time, she’d hooked a cord onto both ends of her staff and slung it over her back.

It happily pushed snugly into her warm shirts, and she smiled. “It really doesn’t have much in the way of malice, is it?”

“I’m calling it Bob.” Otto proclaimed, and she gaped at him. He nodded confidently several times before he noticed her expression. “What? Bob’s a good, strong name. Nobody’s ever distrusted a Bob.”

She shook her head, mystified at his logic. “I was thinking Miro.”

The slime jiggled in her arms. Whatever a Miro was, it sounded like something quite nice. It was a soft, pleasant name that suited a slime quite well, at least in the slime’s opinion.

She patted it softly. “I think it likes it.”

Otto jogged in front of them, frowning at the slime. “I dunno, it looks like a Bob to me.” “It’s not your slime, is it?” she replied defensively, moving Miro away from him. “Besides, Bob is a boy’s name, and I don’t think it’s a boy.”

Folding his arms, Otto countered, “It sure doesn’t look like a girl, though.”

The Koliph spoke quietly. “Slimes are neither male nor female. They are simply slimes.”

Both humans stared at the furred fox-kin, and his ears folded back. “Slimes make for a delicious summertime snack in Repriyo. We’ve learned much of their species.”

Olivai inspected Miro thoughtfully. “I suppose that makes sense. Thank you for the information, Castil. Regardless, Miro is a name that could be applied to either boy or girl, wouldn’t you agree?”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“Bob can be a girl's name,” Otto tried, and then shook his head. “Okay, I’ll give you this one. But we’re calling the next one Bob.”

“I doubt there will be a next one.” Olivai said softly, slowly caressing Miro. “I’ve never seen a slime so well-behaved as Miro. Usually they’re so mindless. They usually just roll up and try to bite at your ankles, but Miro hasn’t done anything like that.” She shifted her arms, unaware of Miro’s sudden deterioration in mood.

Were slimes like that? Did they try to bite people?

Miro stared down its own surface at Olivai’s fingers. It felt no compulsion to nip at them, and it didn’t want to hurt her. She was nice, even though her spells tasted awful. It didn’t feel like biting Otto either. There was a lot of metal on that person.

Castil, on the other hand… he said he ate slimes. Could slimes eat Koliph? His smell tasted like spice and tender meat. He had very little armor and no metal aside from the exceptionally pointy sword on his back.

No, Miro decided, Koliph were not for eating either. Castil talked with Otto and Olivai as though they were equals, which probably meant they were.

The trees in front of them were thinning, the water dripping down on them gradually lessening. Miro tried to look around the trunks, attempting to find some information ahead of time.

As they broke through the trees, they were met with a group of acolytes milling around. The men and women were visibly anxious, walking in circles without any clear purpose.

Once Olivai came into sight, they rushed over, an onslaught of questions shortly following. “Priestess, did you catch him?” “Priestess, you are amazing!” “Priestess, why are you holding a slime?”

The final question seemed to alert the acolytes to Miro’s presence, and they promptly backed away. “Priestess!” The most fancily-dressed acolyte hissed. “What is that?”

Olivai held Miro up, changing her intonation to a more formal one. “Greetings, Daveen. I apprehended the monster that Sarlehk summoned. It seems to be quite docile, but I am bringing it to the church for further examination in the name of caution. I have decided to name it Miro for the time being.”

Daveen stepped forward nervously, poking Miro with a long finger. “You want to bring that back to the chapel? Will its impurity not stain the floors?”

Olivai’s smile was genuine. “I have cast a purification spell four times on Miro and it remains unharmed. I can think of no more meticulous test by which to assure ourselves of its immaculacy.”

While Miro tried to sort through all the long words it’d never heard before, Daveen frowned. “But… it is a slime. And what of Sarlehk? I do not see him behind you.”

“We could not find Sarlehk,” Olivai stated smoothly, ignoring the startled murmur that followed. “However, we found his sole remaining defense, the failed result of his most powerful and costly summoning circle. As you can see, there is no reason to be even remotely worried about Miro. If Sarlehk’s power is truly so drained, he should provide little challenge to the hunters of Caro Lias.”

Miro gazed up at her with no small amount of dolor. Olivai had used fancy words and strange phrasing, but one statement stuck with the slime.

Failed result? Miro was a failure?

The acolytes began packing their things, although Daveen kept shooting suspicious glances in Miro’s direction. Otto patted Olivai’s shoulder. “Nicely handled, O great priestess of Didoa. I don’t think they’ll ask any more questions, although a short conversation with the fellow should relieve any doubts they might still have.”

Olivai glared at him, but Otto was already walking away to help out. Meanwhile, Castil had padded up to the young woman. “Ma’am? My payment?”

She frowned at him. “We didn’t catch Sarlehk,” she gently reminded him.

He bared pearly white teeth at her in a mildly threatening smile. “Perhaps. But I did find your slime friend, and I finished the duty you hired me for; which is to say, I tracked something for you.”

It was the longest sentence Miro had heard Castil say so far, and based on Olivai’s surprised expression, the same went for her. Her surprise morphed into mirth a moment later. “I suppose you did. How does eight and a half gold sound, instead of the original ten?”

Castil held out a soft hand. “I would not be unsatisfied with nine.”

Crouching, Olivai set Miro down and pointed a finger at it in warning. “Don’t go anywhere.” Straightening, she removed a tough-looking purse from her side and began rifling through it, lips moving wordlessly as she counted the appropriate currency.

Miro obediently waited for her to finish depositing the gold pieces in Castil’s hand before flattening itself, and then explosively regaining its shape. The result was a startlingly high bounce aimed at Olivai’s stomach, and she caught the slime with a grunt of effort. Rolling around in her grasp, Miro settled for a forward-facing seat and burbled happily.

Castil and Olivai both stared at it for a long moment. “I didn’t know slimes could do that.” Olivai finally said.

“Neither did I.” Castil mused, eyes narrowed as he contemplated Miro. He didn’t say anything else as he slid his freshly-acquired money into his pockets, but he kept an eye on the slime as he walked away.

Olivai patted Miro absently, watching the Koliph leave. “I wonder if he has any texts on slimes I could borrow. I certainly need the help if I’m to study you very well,” She finished, smiling down at it. The slime burbled faintly, still thinking of the earlier statement.

If it helped Olivai study, would she stop thinking of it as a failure? What sort of things would it have to do in order to help? It didn’t have hands, after all.

Impressively unaware of Miro’s self-scrutiny, Olivai adjusted her grip on Miro. “You really are rather heavy.”

Miro had no idea how to help with that.