Epilogue

“I’m… not?” Annol blinked. “But… even that guy thinks I am one, and you said he was a vampire.”

“Well, he definitely thinks so, but it doesn’t mean he can’t be wrong.”

“But… I have a craving for blood! I can turn into mist!” he said emphatically. “Who knows if I have other powers as well.”

“According to Legends of the Ancient Ones, there was a Naturist tribe who could turn themselves into puddles of water.”

“Puddles of… water?”

“Yup. There were mud-people, too. Thinking about it, mist is technically water, so maybe you’re related?”

“…You’re messing with me.”

“No, I’m not. I already told you, I believe everything written in books. Just because you can turn into mist—very cool, I admit—doesn’t mean anything else but that.”

“What about the blood, then?” he insisted.

I snapped my fingers and reached out to a book I placed on my desk beforehand. “See, that’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about. Come here.”

I showed him the title before opening the book to the dried leaf bookmark.

“Ailments of the Heart and Mind?” he said. “…Wait, are you implying I’m crazy?”

“Hmm? Oh, no, no. The title is in fact literal,” I explained cheerfully. “Here, read this part.”

“‘The patient exhibited fatigue, a tendency to faint, as well as’…” He paused, his brows rising. “‘A craving for iron-containing products, including blood’…”

I smiled.

That was the answer.

“A vampire’s bloodthirst is a metaphor. It sounded literal, in your case… but I imagined it was something like this. Doctor Konpen-Makir calls it the Ironeater Malady. He’s got no sense for names at all, but he’s actually an expert. The book’s only a decade old, so who knows? Maybe there’s a cure by now.”

“…It’s not necessarily that condition, though…”

“I believe it is. Regardless, since it’s unrelated to your mist situation, I guess our search isn’t done. I don’t think you’re a bloodsucking vampire, frankly… you don’t even have fangs!”

He laughed at this comment, proving me right by exposing his teeth.

“If you’re not convinced, we can search for some more medical books—and I’m quite sure I read some horror story about an entire village becoming fog… could be relevant, who knows.”

I rose from my seat and gestured for him to follow, leading him to one of the dustier shelves around the place.

“Hmm… I think it’s the one up there?” I said, glancing at the still broken step-ladder. “Err, think you can reach that for me?”

“Uh, sure.”

He was taller than me, but still had to stand on his tiptoes to reach the upper shelves, and was thus unable to see the titles well. While he fumbled around according to my instructions, I ended up looking at his neck.

Quite a supple one for a young man.

Would be a shame if a vampire bit it.

…Not that I had any interest. I’d read enough stories about biting necks already.

“That one?”

“No, the one on the right, with the cobwebs on it.”

“…Do you ever clean this place?”

“Not my job.”

Still, that made me wonder…

Vampires were nothing more than a metaphor, but metaphors could have a basis in reality. The craving for blood was a stand-in for an obsession—and certain obsessions could grant one longevity or strange powers.

It was rather odd of people to think either Inspector Rashim or Halon were the rumored vampire of the Royal Police when there was a much better candidate.

Someone else who’d been here for a long, long time, barely seen the sun, and had a constant craving…

Maybe they’d catch on at some point.