Chapter 63
Chapter 63
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 62
Chapter Title: Summer Cold (1)
The sweltering summer heat that had tormented Merthesia was gradually fading away before the flow of time.
The noisy cicada cries,
The chirping crickets that embroidered the night,
Even the daylight that seemed like it would never end.
All of them were slowly vanishing one by one before the changing seasons.
‘Autumn is coming soon.’
Late autumn.
The day I first met Merthesia.
That day still felt as vivid as if it were yesterday.
And yet, half a year had already flown by,
Bringing us back toward the season of our first meeting.
‘Time flies.’
As I organized the compounding tools, a short sigh of wonder escaped me at the passage of time.
I gazed down at Merthesia, still fast asleep.
She had grown so much since the first time I saw her.
In height,
in weight,
in the length of her hair.
After beginning to interact with the villagers,
I occasionally crossed paths with children and exchanged words with them.
Thanks to that, I learned a little about children.
About how much Merthesia’s growth—both inward and outward—had lagged behind.
There were plenty of children in the village.
Very young ones,
older ones,
and some the same age as Merthesia.
The youngest were toddling around unsteadily,
the older ones looked after their younger siblings with a precocious air.
The ones Merthesia’s age conversed with surprising skill and expressed their emotions freely.
They laughed easily,
cried easily,
and above all, knew how to clearly articulate what they wanted.
“It’s amazing...”
“......”
Being around them naturally taught me what a real baby was like.
“This is a baby?”
“Yes. She just turned six months. Cute, isn’t she?”
“...She’s small.”
Only then did I understand why the first clothes I bought hadn’t fit Merthesia.
“Merthesia, this is a baby.”
“......”
“Hoho, look at her hiding behind Mr. Row again. How precious.”
But—
Merthesia still seemed awkward around other children.
Suddenly, an incident from a few days ago in the village came to mind.
The baker I ran into every time I visited the market.
He had a son and daughter around Merthesia’s age.
The eldest son was the same age as Merthesia,
and the second child, his daughter, was a year younger.
That day, the children had come to play at the bakery.
“Wow!”
“?!”
Among them, the son took an interest in Merthesia and approached her closely.
“Hi! What’s your name?”
“......”
“Wanna play with us? We’re gonna play ball over there.”
Merthesia
didn’t even return the greeting before ducking straight behind my robe.
Consoling the disappointed boy fell to me.
“Sorry. She’s pretty shy.”
“...Really?”
“Yeah. Once she warms up, she’ll respond. If it’s okay, try talking to her again next time.”
“......Okay.”
The boy glanced back regretfully several times as he returned to his sister.
Merthesia
watched him from inside the robe,
clutching the hem of my clothes tightly for a long while.
The baker approached with a hearty laugh upon seeing it.
“Haha, looks like she’s got almost no experience playing with kids her age.”
“Yeah.”
“Kids who only hang around adults might not know how to act with peers their own age.”
“I see...”
“There are things they only learn when they’re together by themselves. Things no adult can teach.”
He was right.
The childcare books said forming bonds with peers was crucial for developing social skills.
For Merthesia’s sake,
I needed to create chances for her to mingle with others her age, little by little.
To do that—
It might be time to start teaching her letters.
Children would struggle to catch all of Merthesia’s subtle expressions.
For Merthesia to fully open her heart,
for the children to understand her even a little,
they needed as many tools as possible to connect.
‘Feels like another task just got added...’
I glanced at the calendar on the wall.
Less than twenty years until the catastrophe.
Humans now took about twenty years to reach adulthood.
It was fortunate, once again.
That I hadn’t picked up Merthesia as a newborn.
If I had, I’d have had to leave before she was fully grown.
At the very least, I’d been granted enough time for her to grow up.
That was sufficient.
I poured today’s medicine for Merthesia into a cup.
It was time to wake her.
Today, after tending the fields, we’d planned to head to the valley a short distance away.
Unlike most nearby streams,
its waters were calm and shallow—perfect for a child to play in.
Merthesia was still clumsy on her feet and couldn’t splash in the water,
but sitting on a rock with her legs dangling in the cool stream brought her plenty of joy.
She begged to go whenever she got the chance.
Yesterday, rain had forced us to turn back midway,
much to her disappointment as she clung to my clothes hem.
“Let’s play tomorrow.”
“......”
“Tomorrow’ll be sunny. We’ll head out earlier than usual. With Rabbit.”
“!”
With that promise,
Merthesia had fallen asleep far earlier than normal.
‘She won’t wake up.’
It was rare, but it happened occasionally.
On days when she was overly excited for tomorrow,
or filled with anticipation, she slept extra deeply.
Probably from tossing and turning.
Come to think of it, in the early hours of dawn,
Merthesia had been particularly restless, clutching the blanket tight.
Was her heart racing even in her sleep?
Perhaps she’d been romping through the valley in her dreams.
A soft chuckle escaped me.
“Merthesia.”
“......”
“Wake up. Time to wash, eat breakfast, and go to the valley.”
“......”
Something was off.
Normally,
she’d bolt upright and throw off the covers.
She was definitely awake, but her movements were sluggish.
“...Merthesia?”
“......”
Merthesia slowly pushed the blanket aside.
Fussing with the edge,
she let out successive sighs before sluggishly sitting up.
Her forehead glistened damply, bangs sticking to her skin.
“Were you hot?”
“......”
Merthesia slowly shook her head.
In that instant—
Her small body swayed and toppled sideways.
“Merthesia!”
“......”
I rushed to her side.
Merthesia’s eyes were half-lidded, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps.
The breath against my hand burned hot.
I gently pressed my palm to her damp forehead.
An unfamiliar heat seeped straight into my skin.
The fever wasn’t confined to her face.
Her entire body was aflame,
her chest rising and falling rapidly.
...A high fever.
Forehead, nape, hands.
Merthesia’s whole body felt like a blazing ember.
This had never happened before.
Which made it all the more alien... all the more frightening.
“Hang on a sec...”
“......”
My mind—usually brimming with a flurry of thoughts—went utterly blank.
Symptoms I knew well, yet faced with them in Merthesia, nothing surfaced.
‘Calm down, stay calm...’
Dredging up memories one by one, I slowly spoke.
“Merthesia.”
“......”
I called, but she only barely fluttered her eyelids.
Her flushed face seemed more heartbreaking than ever.
I scooped Merthesia into my arms.
Limp and boneless, she felt far heavier than usual.
Even though she shouldn’t be to me.
“It’s okay.”
“......”
“You’ll feel better soon.”
Merthesia’s breaths escaped fast and unsteady.
A long life meant accumulated experience.
I knew all too well that panic was the worst response here.
I drew a light breath.
Moved calmly, yet swiftly.
‘A cold, maybe.’
I’d need to check a book to confirm,
but cooling her fever came first.
I soaked a cloth in water.
Wiped down her sweat-drenched body.
Then hurriedly dressed her in fresh pajamas.
“Just wait a moment.”
“......!”
Merthesia clutched at my clothes.
But there was no strength in her grip, unlike usual.
Yet somehow, my feet felt heavier than ever.
“Sorry. I’ll be right back.”
“......”
“I need the fever medicine.”
The medicine cabinet was already neatly arranged.
Referring to childcare and herbology texts,
I’d prepared all the essentials for when she fell ill.
I retrieved the pre-made antipyretic.
Shaped into small pills easy for a child to swallow.
‘Cold water’s no good...’
In haste, I accelerated time to heat some water.
My head throbbed faintly, but that hardly mattered.
Merthesia was waiting.
“Merthesia.”
“......!”
The child, propped up awkwardly, gave me a faint smile.
“Time for medicine.”
“......”
After hesitating, she parted her lips.
Her lips looked parched.
I placed a single pill in her tiny mouth.
“?!?!!!”
“Bitter?”
“......”
“Sorry. I’ll make it less bitter next time. Here, water.”
I handed her the cup carefully.
Even her small hand trembled weakly around it.
Lukewarm water trickled down her throat sip by sip.
One gulp, two gulps.
The sound of her swallowing rang unusually clear.
“Good girl.”
“......”
No reply, unlike her usual self,
but Merthesia slowly closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against my arm.
Had the fever eased a little?
Her breathing felt just a touch softer.
‘Thank goodness it’s working...’
I adjusted her position for comfort and sat beside her.
“......”
“Yeah. Not going anywhere. I’ll stay right here.”
“......!”
Only then did Merthesia smile softly, reassured.
I gently stroked her sweat-dampened forehead once more,
remaining by her side until the fever broke.