Kays Translations

Chapter 2: Margrave

　Time passed, and I turned three years old. Up until now I’d been busy one way or another — learning how to walk, learning words.

　Thanks to the fact that I hadn’t been given some cheat ability to speak the language from the start, I think I grew up much like a normal child.

　Because of that, my family never found me suspicious.

　Over the course of those three years, I worked out a few things. My name is Julius. I’m quite a handsome boy, with dark brown hair inherited from my father and black eyes inherited from my mother.

　The house I was born into was the Heine margraviate. It was a great house with a military role, guarding the northern reaches of the Kingdom of Spencer. Something about it felt close to the civilisations of the European countries.

　I was born the third son of Margrave Heine. I have one younger sister.

　There were a great many servants in the mansion, and although the headship had already passed to my father, my grandparents lived with us too.

　And that grandmother of mine was, of all things, a magic pharmacist. Should I call this good luck, or would it be better to say the goddess had arranged it this way from the very beginning?

　Either way, it was convenient for developing magic potions.

“Grandmother, what are you making?”

“Oh my, Julius, are you interested? This here, you see, is a recovery potion I’m making.”

　Grandmother turned a gentle smile on me. In front of her, a murky green liquid was bubbling away.

　I desperately held back the urge to scream.

　The acridity! If you boil it that hard, the herbs will give off a horrendous bitterness. Stop!

　But whether she knew that or not, Grandmother boiled it down further still. Heat it for a long time and the recovery effect fades. Drying the herbs, grinding them to powder, then extracting quickly in hot water — that’s the basis for making a recovery potion with real potency.

　Argh, this is a complete disaster.

“Grandmother, isn’t it bad to boil it down that much?”

“Hohoho, what an interesting thing to say. Recovery potions are made like this, dear.”

　What was that? Who on earth taught her that? I wanted to grill whoever it was for the better part of an hour.

　Hmm. As expected, a child’s opinion wasn’t going to be taken on board that easily. I’d just have to wait until I was a bit older. I had no choice but to reluctantly withdraw.

　If recovery potions made by that method were what circulated in the world, surely there’d be no one left willing to use magic potions at all.

　The goddess had probably felt the same way I did. That was why she’d asked this of me. Along with that ominous prophecy…

　From that day on, I resolved to start reading books about magic potions. Grandmother being a magic pharmacist, the Heine margraviate’s splendid library held a great many books on the subject.

　But I ran into a problem almost at once.

“It’s too difficult to read…”

　To be precise, a great many words I didn’t know kept coming up. Children’s picture books alone clearly weren’t enough to build up my vocabulary.

　Worse still, those books had no illustrations whatsoever. Black text was laid down densely, as though to blot out the pages entirely. Any desire I had to read them evaporated on the spot.

　You could tell at a glance. This was surely saying, “Don’t read this book.”

“I wish there were a magic potion book for beginners.”

　I searched in faint hope, but couldn’t find one right away.

　Then one day, at the dinner table, Mother asked me with a smile.

“Julius, it seems you’ve been looking for a book.”

　She must have heard from the servants that I’d been up to something in the library. Perhaps she thought I showed promise. After all, I’d never once seen my older brothers use the place. They had tutors, so perhaps they had no need to read books.

“Yes. I’ve been looking for a book on magic potions that even I can understand…”

　The moment I said it, Mother’s face stiffened. And not only Mother’s. Father’s face and Grandfather’s face stiffened too. Grandmother alone sat there beaming.

　What was this reaction? It was as though I’d touched on some taboo.

“I see. Julius, it’s good of you to be so eager to study, but right now you need to play plenty. And you mustn’t read books about magic potions without permission. There’s a rule that only a magic pharmacist may read them.”

　She spoke as if admonishing me, a serious look on her face. Apparently Mother was afraid of my taking an interest in magic potions.

“Julius, when you’re bigger I’ll make a special exception and teach you how to make magic potions, so you must be patient until then.”

　Grandmother said it beaming all the while. Grandmother, it seemed, was in favour. Everyone else, though, was against. Which had to mean magic potions carried some kind of problem. This needed investigating.

　What on earth was the state of magic potions in this world? Come to think of it, I’d never actually seen one. Were they all kept together somewhere?

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