Soe Bardai - The Shapeshifting Moth

Morphological moth 1

The moth was pleased with its own wings. It flapped its wings gently. It accepted the gentle breeze with satisfaction. As it accelerated its wings, it rose. It swayed its body as it rose. It felt that the joyful experience had begun to challenge it.

He thought he heard a voice telling him to try flying. But there was no one around him. He wondered if it was his own mind that was urging him on. He decided to accept the challenge. He put more force into his wings and flapped them. His whole body lifted higher and higher, ready to soar into the air. As he exerted more force, he launched himself into the air.

He tried to control himself with his wings, which were in chaos in the air. The more he tried, the more chaotic he became. He panicked and flailed his wings. His swaying body was floating in the air, unsteady. He was afraid that he would fall to the ground, so he panicked and flailed his wings. The wings gained more momentum and he began to fall to the ground.

When he reached the ground, he was unable to control himself and fell down. He looked at it worriedly, wondering if his wings were broken. He could see that his wings were stuck to his body. He didn't know if he had taken them like this. He wondered if they had been taken in by nature, unconsciously. He was a little nervous about his flight plan. If his flight didn't go well and his wings were broken, he might lose the chance to fly freely in the air like other moths.

I heard the voice again, "Try to fly bravely."

"Wings are for flying, so fly while you still have them."

The voice grew louder, but he couldn't find who was speaking or where. The encouragement, "Fly while you still have wings," made him look at the other flying moths, feeling refreshed.

"Fly, we'll go to the fireworks show in the evening... If you can't fly, you'll be the only one left. Practice now."

The moth looked back into itself, thinking it must be the sound coming from within itself.

He looked at his wings. They seemed ready to fly if he wanted to. He flapped his wings. He felt lighter than before.

He heard the voice saying that wings were for flying. He flapped his wings and flew into the air again. He tried to control both wings and learned how to control them. He could fly in the air.

"You can fly, right? You've practiced hard. The better you practice, the more opportunities you'll have to see the beauty of the fire up close."

The moth, which has wings, flies up and down in the air, swerving left and right, happily tests its flight like a child with a good toy. There are other moths watching it fly like it.

“Shall we fly together?” “We will fly, but we must be careful not to collide.” “We will fly far away first, and then we will fly close.” The little moths were flapping their newly acquired wings as they pleased. They were flying far away from each other, and then they were slowly flying close together. They were enjoying the closeness and avoidance of flying.

“It's fun... we can fly well.”

"My father told me not to fly too far. We'll fly here as we please."

"Shall we play catch?"

"Hey.. good.. we've already practiced flying."

The moth no longer had the fear it had felt before. It realized that flying, which it had thought was scary, was actually a threat that would disappear from its grasp if it practiced and mastered it. The fear that had driven it to fear flying when it was already flying had disappeared when it was already flying. The moth realized that the only way to overcome its fear was within itself.

"Don't be afraid, fly boldly. That's why I'm telling you, you already have the ability. You just need to use it and try."

Now the moth no longer sought that voice. It had become a second voice that reminded it of its own forgetfulness. When it had found its owner, it tried to speak to that second voice.

"Okay.. now I can fly well.. I can even see the fire tonight.. I can go and see the closest one to the fire."

"To get closest to the fire, you must master your flying skills. Being able to get closest to the fire is the work of the brave."

"I can be a hero too.. A hero is not born to be a hero."

The moth heard a faint laugh. It was a laugh that could not be heard from his chest.

"That's right. A hero is not born to be a hero. He is born like any other animal. But he tries to be a hero. The right to be a hero is inherent in everyone from birth. It's just that there are so few heroes who can take advantage of that right."

The moth flapped its wings in the wind and spoke again.

"If it's already inside me, I'll show you how to get it. Stay close and watch. I have to make you a hero."

The moth gnawed its teeth. The second voice was no longer audible.