Episode 15: Frey Deas
Calling it a mansion felt almost embarrassing—the Deas estate was modest in size. Of course, that was only in comparison to the Duke of Iter’s residence; it still occupied a fairly large piece of land. What was unusual was that a mansion of this size would normally have at least two floors, but this estate was built entirely on one level. I understood why the moment I stepped inside.
“Huh.”
As soon as I breathed in, a strong medicinal scent rushed into my nose. It seemed that Lothia’s younger sibling had been sick for quite a long time. It looked like they had built the entire mansion on one floor so the child would never need to climb stairs.
“Welcome, my lady.”
It was Lothia who greeted me. He opened the door himself, dressed in his knight uniform. He wouldn’t normally wear that at home—he clearly got dressed like that because I was visiting. I felt strangely guilty.
“I didn’t expect you to come all the way here.”
Lothia bowed politely. He had left in such a hurry earlier with a desperate expression, but now he looked calmer. That meant his sibling must be doing better. They were probably resting… which made me feel even more guilty for disturbing them.
“I won’t stay long. I just want to see my friend’s face.”
He paused.
“Your… friend?”
Ah—right. He never actually told me about his younger sibling. I quickly waved my hands.
“Well, you said your younger sibling is the same age as me, right?”
His eyes widened slightly before he gave a faint smile. He *smiled*. That tiny change in expression made me open my eyes wide.
“Yes.”
His voice was softer than usual, though he still maintained polite formality—knight and noble lady, after all. But making someone who’s supposed to be resting feel uncomfortable wasn’t ideal. Time to use my secret weapon. I looked up at him and said:
“Then that means you’re my friend’s big brother!”
He tilted his head slightly as if trying to understand. Azelta spoke up from beside me.
“He means you don’t have to be formal inside your own house.”
As expected, Azelta! I clenched my fist in victory.
“…Ah. Thank you.”
Lothia hesitated, then bowed again.
“I’ll just go change my clothes.”
He looked down at his uniform.
“Would you like to wait in the dining room?”
We didn’t refuse and followed him. While the mansion was large horizontally, the dining room wasn’t far. The places needed for daily life were arranged close together.
“I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll step out for a moment as well.”
Delpiro left with Lothia. I looked at him questioningly, and he gestured toward his white doctor’s coat.
“There’s a patient here.”
Ah. I nodded. Since we were already here, it made sense that he’d check on the sibling. Judging from how naturally he followed Lothia, this wasn’t his first visit. Had Delpiro always been treating Lothia’s sibling?
—Clack. A plate appeared in front of me.
“….!”
A maid had appeared silently to serve me. She seemed to be a Deas household maid. Since when had she been standing there?
“I will serve her myself.”
Sensing my surprise, Azelta dismissed the maids with a gesture. They withdrew soundlessly—like ghosts.
—
Delpiro and Lothia soon returned.
“Is your friend really sick?”
I asked. Lothia replied:
“They’re sleeping right now.”
He had changed clothes already, and had checked on the sibling as well. He now wore a simple white shirt, without the heavy uniform or armor. He looked like a completely different person. My eyes sparkled.
“What exactly are they sick with?”
At my question, Lothia glanced toward a door beyond the dining room. I followed his gaze—and froze.
“……!”
An unstable magical force pulsed from beyond that door. Similar to the stone Cassian had given me—unstable, but not bound to an object. And definitely not a monster. If it were, Lothia would have known immediately. Then what—
“They were always weak, but their head and heart especially hurt.”
Delpiro answered.
“Head? Heart?”
I tilted my head. Head pain, chest pain, *unstable mana*. If the one beyond that door really was Lothia’s sibling… no way.
“They were born that way?”
I confirmed.
“Yes.”
Lothia’s heavy reply made me fall silent. To them, I probably just looked sympathetic toward a peer who was ill. But that wasn’t it. I knew what this was. I had seen cases like this before—in my previous life. A guess began forming in my head. But here? In a world with no magic?
“Do they still have seizures?”
Delpiro asked abruptly. Seizures too? I glanced toward the door again—startled. Wait. *Informal language?* I looked between them. Delpiro looked guilty, but Lothia answered naturally.
“About once a month. It was particularly bad this time.”
Wait—Lothia used informal language too? I stared between them. Lothia was clearly ten years younger than Delpiro—at least visually.
“You two speak casually to each other?”
Why?? Did they know each other personally? Even so—wasn’t that rude? Just as I thought that, Azelta lowered her head onto the table.
“Pfft—”
Her height made her whole laughing face visible to me.
“Huh?”
Why are you laughing? I turned to look at Lothia—he looked troubled.
—And then the magic beyond the door pulsed violently.
“We’re all the same age!”
Delpiro suddenly yelled.
“What?”
I froze. He looked utterly wronged. Azelta backed him up.
“They’re the same age.”
As if I hadn’t understood. I had understood. *That was the problem.*
All three? The same age?
I stared at their faces.
“…….”
No matter how seriously I studied them, my brain refused to accept it. Poor Delpiro—he must have had such a harsh life that he aged like that. I mean… doctors do age fast.
“Really…?”
I looked at Delpiro skeptically.
“You’re not… uncle-aged?”
Delpiro slowly slumped.
“Ughh…”
Lothia patted his back, signaling that he was used to this. Azelta burst into louder laughter.
“Delpiro’s the youngest—born in December.”
December?? My jaw dropped. I had made a *terrible* assumption.
“I see…”
I really thought he was an uncle. Delpiro couldn’t recover from the blow. I had no way to fix this, so I grabbed his hand.
“You’re still handsome!”
Not helping. He whispered hollowly:
“At least I aged… gracefully…”
No, that’s not what I meant!
But the unstable mana was intensifying. I stood from my seat. They probably thought I was fleeing from embarrassment.
“I—I’m going to the restroom!”
Azelta stood immediately.
“My lady—”
I waved her off.
“I’ll go alone! Stay and talk with your friends!”
She hesitated, glancing at Lothia—worried for my safety. I waved reassuringly. The household maids moved like assassins; clearly the security was excellent.
“Where’s the restroom?”
“Down that hall. I can guide you.”
He started to rise.
Nope. I shut the door quickly.
—Thud.
“Haaa…”
Only after closing the door did I breathe. Inside felt like a completely different space—soft carpet, rounded furniture edges, like my own room. They were carefully carved—more effort than craftsmanship. The mana grew stronger.
“Must be past here…”
I passed a restroom. I swallowed. The mana was very close.
“This one?”
I grabbed the doorknob. Strong mana pulsed beyond it—human mana, unstable.
—Click.
I opened it slightly. Heat rushed out—not just fever, but the familiar heat of mana.
There was a child inside, breath ragged. Silver hair like Lothia’s, but smaller—my age, maybe. Deathly pale.
“Oh my…”
I stepped toward them before realizing it. The child didn’t stir—barely conscious, maybe unconscious.
“That must be so painful…”
I could see their mana circuits. Twisted, tangled. I’d seen this before—but this child’s condition was severe. Some children are born with mana. I had been one—so I knew. Among such children, there are those with talent but blocked mana pathways. In my previous life, that wasn’t a problem—there were many mages to guide the flow.
But not in a world where magic is forbidden.
“What do we do…”
It was too much mana for someone so young. Living in a place saturated with mana like this would only increase it. If they really were my age—seven—they would not survive to adulthood.
“Good thing I came…”
Not even Delpiro could fix this. Unless he learned magical medicine—impossible in a world without magic. Nightmares, nosebleeds, ear bleeding, unbearable headaches… and medical exams that show nothing wrong.
This illness could *never* be cured using medicine.
This was **Awakening Fever**—the suffering that comes before a mage awakens.
