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Mittsual

The Deer King

Mittsual is the suspected disease behind a series of deaths associated with bites from wolves or dogs, and its investigation becomes a contest between evidence and explanation. The illness resembles the Black Wolf Fever feared in Aquafa, but the characters repeatedly stress that resemblance does not establish identity, transmission, or cause. Individual attacks, scattered cases, and a conspicuous absence of broader spread force physicians to treat the disease as a puzzle rather than a settled diagnosis.

Names, Evidence, and Uncertainty

Mittsual is also discussed as Black Wolf Fever or as a mittsual-like disease, but the names do not resolve what the illness is. At the Aquafa salt mine, Hohsalle examines the dead and finds dog-bite marks and rashes across their bodies. The evidence shifts attention away from a suspected food-poisoning explanation toward an illness associated with bites, yet it does not by itself prove that the disease is Mittsual. Hohsalle explicitly cautions that the mine outbreak may not even have been Black Wolf Fever.

The uncertainty matters because the disease is being interpreted through an already charged story about Aquafa. In Kazan, the reappearance of Mittsual is rumored to be the Curse of Aquafa, divine retribution against those who violated the land. Governor Ohan asks whether Aquafaese people do not die of Black Wolf Fever, but Hohsalle does not confirm that claim. When he later explains the mine deaths to an elderly woman and Tomeh, he says the victims died after dog bites, then emphasizes that this is only one possibility: the illness associated with the dog that bit their grandfather resembles the mine disease, but the two have not been shown to be the same. Their grandfather was the only person in their household to fall ill, a detail that adds to the pattern of isolated cases without settling the cause.

Suspected Transmission and the Salt Mine

Hohsalle’s first epidemiological distinctions concern possible routes of transmission. He explains that wolves and wild mountain dogs called ossam can transmit Black Wolf Fever, while fleas or ticks that have bitten infected animals or people may carry it more dangerously. Frost makes fleas mostly dormant, though they can survive through winter in warm places, including an animal’s body or near a hearth. The absence of swarming insects around the mine bodies therefore matters to his assessment of immediate risk, but it does not establish a complete account of how the infection reached its victims.

The mine’s pattern points Hohsalle toward a rapid, common exposure. The victims appear to have developed symptoms and died almost simultaneously; if infection had moved gradually from one person to another, he reasons, someone might have had time to report the outbreak. Although the enslaved workers were likely less resistant because of their weakened constitutions, the disease also killed slave keepers. Yet no one who worked at the mine after the disaster showed signs of illness. Hohsalle takes this absence, together with the speed and severity of the outbreak, as evidence against transmission by fleas, ticks, or the wind, and tentatively concludes that the disease at this stage propagates through an animal’s bite.

That conclusion does not lead him to endorse indiscriminate killing of wolves or ossam. If infected animals had attacked sheep, Hohsalle argues, shepherds bitten in those encounters should also have fallen ill; no such reports had reached Yotalu. The distinction between animals that might carry the disease and animals that actually do so becomes central: prevention would require identifying carriers, not simply hunting their species at random. Hohsalle also considers exterminating rats and mice prudent, but stresses that a broad, unspecific hunt would be an unreliable strategy.

The Disease as a Medical Problem

Mittsual also changes how the characters think about what corpses can reveal. Milalle describes them as possible sources of several kinds of medical knowledge: disease agents might be identified and weakened to make a less potent preparation that could build resistance; isolated agents might help researchers find a substance that suppresses or eliminates the illness; and substances produced in victims’ bodies might yield antibodies for a serum to help infected people resist it. These are research possibilities, not established treatments. Makokan’s objection—that the victims died, so their antibodies evidently failed—is treated as a serious question rather than dismissed, underscoring the difference between a promising hypothesis and a proven remedy.

Hohsalle explains the idea of resistance through an analogy to the body’s defenders. The body has different kinds of internal “soldiers,” he tells Yotalu, with different tasks; because they may not recognize a disease agent on first encounter, they need to be trained to identify it and equipped to fight it. A weakened agent would expose those defenders to an impaired version of the disease. Hohsalle credits his grandfather, Limuelle, with discovering why some diseases do not recur and devising a way to introduce weakened agents into the body. This explanation connects the investigation of Mittsual to a larger medical method, while leaving open whether it will produce an effective response to this particular illness.

The contrast with Zolian medical doctrine makes the stakes intellectual as well as practical. Under the Pure Heart Creed, physicians are regarded as “the fingers of the god,” and medical care is bound to divine teaching: when priest-doctors judge a case incurable, accepted practice is to leave the patient to the god and provide only medicines that allow a peaceful death. The account of Mittsual, by contrast, depends on examining bodies, comparing cases, and asking what agents and defenses might explain survival. This does not erase uncertainty; it gives uncertainty a method of inquiry.

Scattered Cases and the Search for a Pattern

The investigation expands beyond the salt mine when Tomasolle presents a map compiled with Cheehana’s help. Red dots mark reports of Mittsual-like symptoms across the former Kingdom of Aquafa, from the Yukata Plains in the south to the Oki forests in the north. The oldest reported case dates back eight years, well before the mine disaster. These were not a single chain of illness: the collected accounts describe separate wolf or ossam attacks, generally with only one or two people becoming ill and no reports of subsequent spread.

That geography and chronology make the disease harder, not easier, to explain. If each report represented a highly lethal, genuinely contagious Mittsual, Hohsalle and Tomasolle reason, the number of cases over eight years should be much greater. Wolves live in packs, so an infectious animal might be expected to produce further cases around the same pack; ticks and mosquitoes have also had several summers in which to multiply. The apparent lack of secondary transmission sits uneasily beside the broad distribution of reports. The investigators therefore ask what is preventing spread, rather than treating the map as proof that a single outbreak moved uniformly across the region.

The hosts’ movement offers one possible explanation for the absence of secondary cases: infected beasts may not have remained in one place long enough to pass the disease to ticks. But that proposal leaves another problem. If animal movement explains the disease’s wide reach, how did it spread among wolves and dogs across such distant areas? The north and south populations could not simply have mingled, and transmission between neighboring packs is raised only as a possible natural route, not a demonstrated one. The mapped evidence establishes breadth and scattered occurrence; it does not yet establish the mechanism connecting them.

Unequal Resistance and Competing Explanations

Differences among patients provide another line of inquiry. Hohsalle reports that the Zolian falconer bitten near the chin developed the most severe symptoms most quickly, whereas Sulumina showed the greatest resistance, followed by Mazai and Olimu. All the patients received the new medicine, so Hohsalle cannot know whether any would have survived without it. He argues that understanding why susceptibility varied could support prevention, while warning that the answer cannot be obtained by simply accepting politically charged rumors about the Curse of Aquafa.

The surviving evidence therefore supports neither a settled diagnosis nor a single confirmed route of infection. Bite-associated illness, rapid deaths at the mine, isolated cases across a broad area, differences in resistance, and the lack of expected secondary transmission all constrain the investigation, but do not yet resolve it. Mittsual’s narrative significance lies in this disciplined incompleteness: each apparent clue narrows some explanations while opening another question, and the disease remains at once a threat to patients, a focus of political rumor, and a test of what careful observation can—and cannot—establish.