IBSGAD 16

Episode 16:This stays between us

The child was burning up—fever blazing beneath icy sweat. His breathing came in ragged, broken gasps, and every tremor in his slight body screamed that something deep inside him was going terribly wrong.
His mana was awakening.

But an awakening like this—wild, uncontrolled, with undeveloped mana pathways—could kill him. A surge this strong could stop the heart. Or the brain.

She brushed his forehead, then clasped his small hand with both of hers.

“This shouldn’t be happening yet… you’ll die if your body can’t withstand it.”

The room around him was filled with books—picture albums of places he’d never seen, wildlife guides about forests and swamps beyond these walls. Every page hinted at a wish he’d never spoken aloud: I want to go outside.

Even with fever-clouded eyes, when she asked if he wanted to wander the world… he nodded.

That was enough.

She leaned close and murmured, barely above a breath:

“Then we’ll keep this a secret.”

Her mana flared—soft pink, warm and alive. Mana that had not moved in ages stirred in her chest like something waking from sleep. She guided a thin thread of it into the child’s hand.

It hurt him—breaking a path where his own mana had never flowed—but she kept going. Slowly, she created a circuit inside him. His expression, twisted with agony at first, gradually smoothed.

“You’ve been hurting this badly… all this time.”

Round after round, she drove her mana through the child’s body—down the arms, through the heart, up to the head, then back to the hands. When she pulled her mana away, his remained—finally able to follow the path she’d carved.

He was breathing freely. Color returned to his cheeks.

Meanwhile, her vision dimmed. Her heart pounded painfully.
Only when everything was finished did she collapse beside him.

“Stay alive… and keep this secret…”

Her consciousness slipped away.

The boy awoke later to a clarity he hadn’t felt in years.
No pain. No dizziness. No crushing weight inside his chest.

The girl was gone.
No trace of her remained.

But he could still feel her warmth in his palm—like petals of a soft, spring flower.

“A secret…”
He whispered the word to himself.

When his brother entered the room later, the boy simply stared at his hand, unable to voice the truth.

“Did someone come while I was sleeping?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

“Yes,” his brother said. “Lady Nasia.”

Nasia.
The girl who had said his eyes were beautiful.

The boy asked what she looked like. His brother opened a landscape book—a page showing a tree covered in fleeting pink blossoms, the kind that bloom only for a heartbeat before vanishing. The same image the boy had seen in a dreamlike haze when she held his hand.

He knew then.

It was her.

The girl who gave him hope.

“I want to go see her,” he murmured. For the first time in his short life, his words held certainty. “Next time… I’ll go to her.”

And his brother, stunned by the sudden determination that hadn’t existed before, could only nod.

For the first time in years, the boy had a dream worth reaching for.