by Miya Kazuki
“The other day, my little brother was born. His name is Kamil. He is very small, wrinkly, goes red when he cries, and is overall very cute.”
“Sister Myne, he does not sound cute at all when you put it like that,” Rosina replied with a giggle. Kamil’s wrinkly redness really was cute, but my words didn’t seem to be doing him any justice.
“You know, Sister Myne, whether or not your little brother’s cute doesn’t matter to us at all. Why even tell us about him?” Delia asked.
“I want as many people to know about him as possible. When he was born, I was told it was important for people to remember his birth.”
When I eventually got all of my preaching about Kamil’s cuteness out of my system, it was time to begin harspiel practice for the day.
After a short while, Rosina’s teaching was interrupted by a knock on the first floor door. A bit later, Fran came upstairs.
“Forgive my interruption, Sister Myne. Wilma has urgent business,” he said, a tinge of worry in his voice.
“You may let her in,” I said.
Urgent business from Wilma meant something had happened in the orphanage. I had Delia put away my harspiel and moved to the table, ready to welcome Wilma.
She came up the stairs to the second floor carrying a baby in her arms—one a little bigger than Kamil. Both Wilma and Fran looked at me for help.
“Wilma, where might that baby have come from?” I asked. At the very least, I hadn’t heard of any of the gray shrine maidens in the temple getting pregnant. It was apparently normal for attendants of blue priests to be returned to the orphanage after becoming pregnant, so the one thing I knew for sure was that the baby hadn’t been born here.
“It was abandoned. The guard said the baby was left with him...”
According to Wilma, a gray priest had been standing guard at the gate to the lower city like usual when, all of a sudden, a lone woman hastily approached him. She then handed him a small bundle, saying it was an offering to the gods. It wasn’t particularly rare for people to bring such offerings or to give donations after being helped by the gods, so the guard had accepted the bundle without giving it much thought.
“When the guard untied the bundle to see what had been offered, he found this baby inside.” It was standard procedure for the guards to check what was in an offering before giving it to the blue priests.
“She offered her child to the gods...?”
When parents could neither kill nor raise a child, they were left with no choice but to bring them to the orphanage and entrust their future to the gods. The baby was a little bigger than Kamil and could move its head around, but it was still too small to walk. I couldn’t help but feel anger at the mother who had abandoned it.
“As you are the orphanage director, Sister Myne, I brought it here first. Whatever shall we do?”
The orphanage director’s permission was needed before a new child could be accepted into the orphanage, but this was the first time since becoming orphanage director that I had needed to deal with this, so I didn’t know what steps I needed to take.
“I am not sure what to do, I am afraid. This has not happened before in my time as director. I will have to consult the High Priest once again. Fran, could you request an emergency meeting?”
“As you wish,” said Fran. I could imagine it was his first time dealing with this too, and he hastily walked out of the room with a troubled expression. Meanwhile, the baby was snoozing in Wilma’s arm, completely unaware of our worries.
“The baby certainly is a sound sleeper,” I said. Its small, sleeping form reminded me of Kamil, which brought a smile to my face.
...This baby’s cute too, but my little Kamil is way, way cuter. No doubt about it.
“We are fine as long as it stays asleep, but I do not know what to do when it awakes. There are no longer any gray shrine maidens here who have given birth. What shall we do without anyone to give the baby milk...?” asked Wilma.
In the past, a baby brought to the temple could simply be taken to the cellar where new mothers and still pregnant gray shrine maidens could feed them. They would raise the baby like their own child. But now the pregnant shrine maidens were gone, and the accumulated knowledge they had shared in that basement had gone with them.
The remaining shrine maidens and apprentices were all younger girls who had never been involved in offering flowers. They had been raised in an orphanage, not having parents to tell them about pregnancy, birthing, and child rearing, so nobody knew what to do with a baby.
“Do you know how to raise a baby without a mother, Sister Myne?”
“I have read about goat milk being used by mothers who cannot produce their own. I believe it is better for them than cow milk. It will take time, but we should be able to feed the baby spoonful by spoonful,” I explained.
That was all information I had learned from a fiction book set during the middle of a war, but Wilma looked as though her entire world had been given light. Her eyes were shining with admiration and respect.
“I thank you ever so much, Sister Myne. I will prepare some at once.”
“We will need to prepare diapers and baby clothes for it as well,” I said, remembering what we had needed for Kamil, but Wilma shook her head.
“We have enough left over from when we used to care for babies here. We may need to prepare more at some point, but we will be fine for now.”
“I see.”
When Fran returned from talking to the High Priest, I asked him to fetch goat milk, at which point the baby awoke and started crying and sucking on its fingers.
“I believe the baby is hungry,” I said.
Wilma began carrying small spoons of milk to the baby’s mouth. At first it shook its head in protest, aware that Wilma wasn’t its mother, but eventually hunger won out and it began drinking the goat milk bit by bit.
Everyone sighed in relief at the sight. At the very least, we had managed to avoid the baby starving to death.
Third bell rang out. The baby flinched in surprise at the sound, but continued to drink the milk, having clearly prioritized hunger over surprise.
“Fran, let us go to the High Priest. Sir Damuel, I ask for your protection.”
The three of us hastily walked to the High Priest’s room. My urge to be a good older sister was strong in my mind thanks to Kamil being born, and it made me want to prepare a living space for the baby as soon as possible.
“High Priest, we have something to discuss.”
I met with the High Priest and informed him of the abandoned baby, then asked him what procedures I would need to follow and in what ways I should look after it.
“Can you not merely do as has been done before?”
“I’m discussing this with you because there are no gray shrine maidens who have given birth and raised kids in the orphanage anymore,” I said, and the High Priest widened his eyes with realization.
“So there aren’t. But there is no use yearning for what is already gone. I suppose there are always wet nurses... Unfortunately, I have no experience raising children either.”
“There are wet nurses we can hire?” I asked, my eyes shining. Having one would make things a lot easier.
But alas, the High Priest slowly shook his head. “...Only if we can find one eccentric enough to willingly come to the orphanage.”
“That won’t be easy.”
The High Priest had probably spoken from the mindset of raising a noble child. However, it was hard to imagine anyone in the lower city willingly going to the orphanage, considering how looked down upon it was. Mom might be willing to help, but that would have to wait until she was healthy again; I couldn’t ask her to come now when she was too weak to even help with chores.
I immediately concluded it would be impossible to bring a wet nurse here. For now, I would have to rely on my attendants to take care of the baby. That would be a big burden on everyone, but it was our only choice if we wanted the baby to live.
“What should we
name it? There wasn’t a name on its clothes or the cloth.”
“You may name it what you like. As long as it does not overlap with any other orphan’s name, it does not matter.”
“Understood.”
Our conversation over, I returned to my room at once. The baby was in a good mood, having been fed and changed into a new diaper by Wilma. According to her, it was in fact a boy.
“We will have to take turns watching him. Wilma would collapse if she had to watch over him all on her lonesome.”
That probably hadn’t been a problem when there were several mothers and pregnant women in the basement, but none of the gray shrine maidens in the orphanage had dealt with babies before. They didn’t know how to handle one, nor did they have anyone they could ask for advice. I couldn’t ask Wilma to take on the baby all by herself when there was nobody else she could rely on for help. Anyone who tried that would end up overwhelmed and exhausted.
“He will beg to be fed during the night as well. We will need at least one person to stay up at night and one person to wake up early if anyone is going to be sleeping.”
We decided that Wilma would watch him in the orphanage during the day, while the rest of my attendants would collectively watch over him in my chamber during the night. Rosina was already used to staying up late, so she would stay up later for him while Fran would go to bed early to wake up early as well. Once Delia awoke, she would then watch over him until Wilma came.
“Geez! Why do I have to look after him?!” Delia demanded. Listening to my orders as her mistress was one thing, but to her, looking after an abandoned baby every day was something else entirely. I did understand how she felt, but the baby would die if we didn’t look after him.
I carefully looked at Delia. Was there something I could say here that would get through to her? I needed something that would make Delia actively want to look after the baby.
I thought for a moment, then it hit me—Delia had looked envious when she said that she didn’t know what a family was like. She no doubt had a strong attachment to the idea of having a family.
“I believe it is your duty to look after him, Delia. You are his big sister, after all.”
“What? Big sister?” Delia replied, looking between me and the baby with a dumbfounded expression.
“You are too young to be his mother, Delia, so what else would you be but his big sister? Please take care of him as you would a family member. He is your family now.”
“My... family...?” she repeated, as if still processing what the words meant as she looked at the baby.
“I became a big sister myself just the other day, and now you are a big sister too, Delia. Shall we compete to see who can be the better big sister?”
“I’m obviously going to win!” Delia declared, puffing out her chest and giving it a confident thump. She would probably dedicate her all to looking after him now, like a good big sister should. At heart, Delia was a straightforward person and a hard worker who didn’t hesitate to dedicate herself to things.
My other attendants watched Delia’s sudden enthusiasm with clear amusement. But if a young girl like Delia would be putting her all into raising the baby, the burden on Fran and Rosina would definitely be lessened.
“First, let’s decide on a name. It can’t be one that someone in the orphanage already has, but other than that it’s up to us. Does anyone have any requests?”
“I want him to have a name like mine. Like family would,” Delia said while peering eagerly at the baby in Wilma’s arms.
Hopefully that makes her more attached to him, I thought while thinking of a name that sounded kind of like “Delia.”
“A name like ‘Delia’... What about ‘Deita’ or ‘Dirk’?”
“Deita... Dirk... I think I like ‘Dirk’!” Delia said, her face radiating blatant approval. “Dirk, it’s me, your big sister,” she continued, reaching out a hand toward Dirk. He gave a lopsided smile as she stroked his head.
“Did you see that, Sister Myne?! He smiled!”
“...Wow, Delia. Kamil only ever cries with me,” I said, a little disappointed that Delia was already proving to be a more powerful older sister than I was.
I resolved to look after Kamil as much as I could once I was back home to raise my own big sister power, but Mom and Tuuli were doing so much by themselves that there was barely anything left for me. It didn’t help that I didn’t get some key aspect of changing diapers. Whenever I tried, Kamil would start peeing for some reason, making a mess everywhere.
“Oh, an abandoned child was given to the orphanage? It must be rough without a woman to look after him,” Mom said while giving Kamil milk.
“So, Mom, do you think there’s anything I can do?”
“Well, napping during the day will make night feeds that much easier. Why don’t you try to make sure everyone looking after the baby gets as much sleeping time as possible?”
Her advice came from a place of much experience, so I gave a big nod.
“Okay, I’ll learn to change Kamil’s and Dirk’s diapers so you and everyone else can take more naps.”
“Please do. I don’t have very high hopes though,” Mom said with a smile.
When I went to the temple the next day, Fran and Rosina both looked exhausted.
It really was difficult for them to switch up their normal sleep patterns to feed Dirk goat milk throughout the night. They would need to nap during the day, no doubt about it.
“Fran, Rosina, please nap for about a bell after eating breakfast. Use this time to rest since you’ll have to wake up during the night.”
“As you wish. Thank you,” replied both Fran and Rosina, looking relieved.
It was hard work for mothers to look after their own children, so looking after someone else’s baby that had showed up in the orphanage out of nowhere one day must have been especially tough.
“More importantly, Sister Myne, there is something wrong with Dirk,” Delia said anxiously while looking at the baby. He was fast asleep, though I couldn’t see anything wrong with him.
“It happened in the morning. Dirk started to cry, but as the milk wasn’t ready yet, we let him keep crying. But then he got a fever, and his cheeks started to bubble. He calmed down as soon as we gave him milk, but we have no idea what happened,” said Fran, who had apparently seen it too.
But Dirk’s cheeks looked normal to me. I tilted my head in confusion.
“I think we will need to hold off on the milk and let him cry a little more. I will need to see this for myself before I can say anything. It is a shame that there is nobody here who could tell us whether this is normal for babies.”
We all watched as Dirk began to cry from hunger. Before long, the crying became high-pitched shrieks, and he really did get a fever out of nowhere.
“See, Sister Myne? He’s burning up.”
I touched Dirk and felt a shock entirely like static electricity, before seemingly being pushed away from his skin. Dirk’s crying intensified.
“Sister Myne, his cheeks have started to get bumpy again.”
“Delia, give him milk right away.”
“Understood. Here you are, Dirk,” said Delia while holding a small spoon in front of his mouth.
Dirk stopped crying the second the milk was in his mouth, instead focusing on sipping it down. His cheeks returned to normal and his fever went down in the blink of an eye. Nothing happened when I touched him now.
“Fran, ask the High Priest for another meeting. Preferably one as soon as possible,” I said in a sharp voice. He left at once, and Delia gave me an anxious look.
“Sister Myne, do you know what’s happening?”
“I cannot say for sure, and I do not want to worry you by making a wrong guess,” I replied with a shake of my head, lowering my eyes.
I would have liked for my guess to be wrong, but it probably wasn’t—Dirk had the Devouring. And on top of that, he had enough mana that it would kill him as a baby.
Delia, whose eyes ha
d wavered with unease when I said I couldn’t answer her question, gave Dirk a protective squeeze.
What To Do About Dirk
If Dirk had a severe case of the Devouring, his life would be in danger unless he was given access to a magic tool that could suck the large amount of mana out of him. I needed to do whatever I could to ensure his safety, even if just by a little bit.
“Lutz, could I ask you to do something? I want you to go to the forest and get some taue fruit. They’ll last if you put them on the dirt part of the floor in the workshop’s storage area, right?” I called Lutz from the workshop up to the second floor of my chambers, then whispered my request so Damuel by the door wouldn’t hear me. It would be better if nobles did not learn of taue fruit.
I glanced Dirk’s way, and Lutz gave a small nod before immediately running off to the forest, having extrapolated the circumstances just from my small gesture. Once he got back, we’d be able to stop Dirk from losing control of his mana and dying from it.
“Sister Myne, I have gotten permission for a meeting.” Fran returned, wearing an exhausted expression. Both Arno and the High Priest had looked annoyed at having two emergency meetings requested in a row, but urgent business was urgent business; I needed to see the High Priest to learn whether Dirk really had the Devouring, how much mana he had, and what we needed to do with him.
“I suppose we shouldn’t give Dirk to Wilma yet, since we’ll be bringing him to the High Priest’s room. Fran, would you carry him?”
I intended to go to the High Priest’s room with Dirk since everything revolved around him, but Delia hugged him protectively and Fran slowly shook his head.
“Sister Myne, we cannot take a pre-baptism orphan out of the orphanage.”
My chambers counted as part of the orphanage since they were in the same building, but apparently taking him to the High Priest’s room was no good. I had forgotten that we weren’t supposed to take them out since we were stealthily taking the kids to the forest, but now that I thought about it, the pre-baptism kids were supposed to be still stuck inside the orphanage so that the blue priests wouldn’t have to see them.