SYMDF 20

Chapter 20

 

Brought back into the main residence slung across the butler’s back, Ion convulsed with seizures until even the family’s head physician, hastily summoned, examined him and shook his head. Soon after, every court mage employed by House Craiger was ordered in.

Adverse reactions from mishandled mana channeling were not unheard-of. But such an extreme seizure—after attempting nothing beyond the most basic operation? That was nearly unimaginable. The mages stared, bewildered.

It was only after flooding Ion’s body with infused mana that his state stabilized somewhat. But it was no cure. Watching his son’s fragile chest finally rise less violently, Duke Craiger sank into a chair, head in his hands.

The Duchess had remained as long as she could bear it, but at last left, unwilling to watch her son’s torment any longer.

How many times had this illness stolen the Duke’s breath already? How many times had his heart plummeted into his stomach since this began?

From the hall came the sound of his wife and young daughter Emily weeping. The Duke could not allow himself the same release. He only rubbed his face dry with weary hands, staring blankly at the pale boy.

“Leave me. All of you—go attend to the Duchess.”
“Yes, milord.”

One by one the attendants withdrew. The chamber fell quiet but for Ion’s thin breaths.

The Duke noticed then what his son clutched so tightly in his frail hands—the pendant of a mana stone, glowing faintly blue. The stone Camillus Valderas Clodel—bastard son of the Emperor—had given him.

A surge of disgust clenched his fist. Every instinct screamed to wrench it away and hurl it out. But memory stayed him—the mages had insisted that stone itself was easing Ion’s condition.

His anger curdled into shame.

The day it began… the day after that incident.

Hadn’t Ion’s sickness quickened the moment after he returned? The timing was too exact not to draw the line. And remembering brought bile to the Duke’s throat—locking his child away, thinking only of punishment, even striking him across the face, driven blind by fury over family honor.

When the Emperor had summoned him into the palace, calling him “my friend,” the humiliation had been worse than death.

“Your son has committed a grave offense. You surely understand the weight of it. And in memory of our long friendship, I summoned you here this way.”

“Your Majesty—your benevolence overwhelms me. But… what truly happened?”

“It is unfortunate… young Camillus has broken his seal and stepped out—thanks to your son.”

The Duke remembered with shame how he could not even speak.

That evening, humiliated, he had dragged Ion back to the estate and punished him, deeming honor more sacred than the boy’s life.

…Madness. It had been utter madness.

What mattered above all else now was not the dignity of House Craiger. It was Ion’s life.

“The young lord… he is not merely ill. He is cursed.”

A physician had said so. Remembering, the Duke clenched his teeth so hard his jaw trembled.

If ever he found who had cursed his son—he would see them taste the most exquisite and lingering misery before cutting their throat. Even if the culprit were of the royal blood itself.

Now he laid his hand over Ion’s, gripping softly. With the other, he wiped sweat from that deathly pale brow, smoothed the tangled hair, and revealed the boy’s delicate forehead.

The Duke bent and pressed his lips there quietly, trembling as he whispered:

“This father will save you, Ion. I swear it.”

Death had licked close to his throat—but it had not claimed him.

Ion stirred awake at last. His vision refused to clear at first; he blinked fiercely until the fog within his head ebbed away, until finally the world resolved again.

His throat cracked with thirst. He gasped, but his voice formed no words—only a weak rasp.

“Ha… ha…”

But someone had heard. Footsteps drew near, and into his sight came the familiar old butler.

“Young master, are you awake?”

Ion gave the faintest nod. Forming only the shape of lips, he mouthed: Water. The butler understood at once.

“I will fetch it immediately.”

Ion managed only a wan smile as the man hurried out. Alone again, he dared move his limbs—but his entire body felt beaten, agonized, paralyzed.

After almost dying, to live at all—perhaps this counts as fortune.

He had learned one lesson clear as crystal: he must never tinker with his body’s mana again. Another mistake, and there would be no recovery.

Knock.

The butler returned swiftly with water—but behind him came another figure: Duke Craiger.

Ion’s eyes flicked instinctively to the window. Bright daylight streamed through. Surprising—his father was seldom home at this hour.

The Duke, however, sat with strange familiarity upon the chair by Ion’s bed, received the glass, dipped a spoon, and offered it wordlessly. Confused, Ion opened his mouth. Lukewarm water slid down his dry throat, again and again, until the rasp gave way to a cracked whisper:

“Thank you… Father.”

The Duke placed the glass aside and, unexpectedly, drew Ion gently into one arm.

“You are heir of House Craiger. And yet you lie so weakly on a sickbed—what use is that?”

“S-sorry…?”

Uncertain if apology was correct, Ion let the word tilt akwardly. His father’s lips twisted faintly—not quite a smile, more weary defeat.

“You bring chaos upon this house with every day, boy.”

“….”

Ion nearly laughed aloud, understanding—his father worried, only too proud to admit it. He bit it back, ready to plead forgiveness again—when heavy knocking resounded.

The butler snapped, “Do you not see the young master is speaking with the Duke! Such ill manners!”

“I beg pardon—but a guest has arrived.”

The Duke turned, weary and irritated.

“A guest? Unbidden?”
“Yes, my lord. His Highness, the Crown Prince, awaits at the front gate.”

“…The Crown Prince?”

Ion’s brows lifted faintly.

Crown Prince Vernian—his contemporary in age, his counterpart as royal heir. Yet he had never once sought Ion in illness. The Duke had never spoken of him, nor did Ion truly know him, save rumors. Rumors calling him a wastrel, a heedless troublemaker.

And now he came, suddenly, uninvited, to House Craiger.

What move is this?

Footnotes:

• Forbidden Grounds (금지/禁地): Referenced by the Emperor—places barred by imperial decree. Camillus had been sealed within such a “prohibited zone.” 

Mana Stone Pendant: Gift from Camillus; though hated by the Duke, credited with stabilizing Ion temporarily.