The reason the night is short is because it is empty. In that darkness, for a human seeking hollow sleep, and for a vampire doing nothing out of boredom, the night is brief.
But if one begins to fill that dark, silent night, so much can enter it. As though pouring something into a bottomless vessel, one wonders—had the night, which always came, truly been this long?
A long night passed. The lord of the full moon, the queen of shadows, the progenitor of vampires, Tirkanjaka, lay there vacantly, recalling last night. She had lived for nearly a thousand years since becoming a vampire and kept vigil through countless nights, but none remained as vivid as last night.
‘That was for therapeutic purposes. It was purely a method to restore sensation to my body. I know that. However…’
No matter how much she repeated it in her head, Tirkanjaka’s heart kept pounding on its own. While the fluttering felt burdensome, she also found herself, on the other hand, enjoying it.
‘…But, was it truly solely for treatment?’
The more she thought, the redder her face grew.
In the past, the moment she wanted it to stop, it would have. Now, even if she begged for it to stop out of sheer embarrassment, it would keep racing. She could forcibly restrain it with the Blood Manipulation Art, but then her heart might burst. Tirkanjaka gave up trying to control her emotions and buried her face in the bed.
‘There’s no way it wasn’t, is there! We kissed all through last night. We kissed while sitting on the chair, lying on the desk, even embracing. On top of that, the tongue, the tongue, the tongue—inside the mouth, inside…!’
“………!!!”
Thwack! Thwack! Tirkanjaka repeatedly punched the bed. With each blow, the bed burst apart, feathers flying in every direction. Even as an antique bed of historical value was being reduced to scrap, Tirkanjaka was too busy recalling the events of the night before.
‘I was too flustered, and too embarrassed… I couldn’t ask. But you too, Hugh.’
Though considerable time had passed, Tirkanjaka still tossed and turned on the bed. With just this single fragment of happy memory and the heart-fluttering it caused, she felt she could remain like this for days without boredom.
Yet she could not simply roll about for days on end. He had promised to come again tonight. Yesterday it was the mouth, today another part…
“………!!!”
Thwack! Thwack! The bed was now a pitiful wreck, like a bird pierced by an arrow. Amidst the feathers spilling out, Tirkanjaka continued to toss and turn…
But then, an odd sensation arose in Tirkanjaka’s mouth.
It was a feather. The dry feather tickled the inside of Tirkanjaka’s mouth, feeling dry and fuzzy. At first not even realizing what was strange, Tirkanjaka paused to identify the unfamiliar sensation.
After savoring the feeling for nearly half an hour, Tirkanjaka realized.
‘It tickles.’
The inside of her mouth felt ticklish.
Since becoming a vampire, she had never felt such a sensation. But after his tongue had swept through every nook and cranny yesterday… sensation had returned to the inside of her mouth.
“Now I… can taste.”
She would be able to taste. Whether she could digest it was another matter, but at least Tirkanjaka’s tongue was now qualified to savor fine food. Tirkanjaka touched her lips and reflected on the significance.
An ability once obtained must be used at once. Lifting her head, Tirkanjaka called for her handmaiden.
“Catalina.”
“Progenitor. You called?”
The handmaiden waiting outside the door answered. Tirkanjaka rose and commanded.
“I shall go to Kavila. Make ready.”
“I shall humbly obey.”
Kavila was the finest chef the Progenitor knew. She was also the Elder with whom she could be most open and at ease. Unlike other Elders, Kavila had become a vampire as a child, and Tirkanjaka had personally raised her, taking her everywhere.
Until now, Kavila had only served her culinary skills to humans, but today she would gain the opportunity to treat the revered Tirkanjaka.
***
Sunlight veiled in fog, a wide but barely visible grassland, and the damp wind blowing in from the sea.
In the fog that turned even the good weather, which came only a few times each month, into nothing special, I yawned long and deep, dog-tired.
“Ahhh-haaww.”
Seeing me yawn mid-walk in the grassland, Rungken stopped and asked.
“A yawn? Tired?”
“Yes. I couldn’t sleep well last night because the bed was different.”
Had it been just poor sleep? After being pressed against Tiru all night long, I had only closed my eyes briefly after restoring some sensation before coming out, so I was exhausted.
Choosing kissing as the method had been the right answer. Tiru, too, had been intensely conscious of it, which improved sensory resonance, and I had enjoyed it quite a bit. If I had tried to restore sensation by gripping her tongue, it would have taken over a week.
“Humans are so fussy! I already find it amazing that you sleep every few hours, but now you say you get tired if you can’t even sleep properly! How do you live with such inconvenience?”
Unaware of the circumstances, Rungken laughed heartily. I wonder how he would react if I told him I was tired from kissing his progenitor all night.
Mm, knowing Rungken, he might easily accept it. Not that I intend to test it.
“From a human perspective, vampires who don’t sleep normally but then crash for months at a time are even more fascinating.”
“Every single day, sleeping and waking in that short stretch between sunrise and sunset, over and over? What a bother! Sleep is a habit. Cut it down!”
“It’s not a habit; it’s a biological phenomenon. How am I supposed to cut down on that? Don’t you even remember your time as a human?”
“It was so long ago I’ve forgotten!”
“How shameless of you.”
Grumbling, I returned to the main topic.
“So, Rungken, you oversee the shepherds and pastures of the grasslands?”
“Of course, all the trivial stuff is done by my underlings! I get involved only when I chase off wolves or tigers out of boredom!”
“Even tigers?”
“Grr. They don’t come down often, but those newly adult ones are ignorant and raise their paws. Leaving it to my underlings makes me too uneasy, but if I go around overturning the mountain with a mob of humans in tow, a few would get bitten. Isn’t it better for me to rush over and beat it down myself?”
At the level of an Ain, one could perhaps match a tiger. But even for an Ain, wandering the mountains hunting tigers is a foolish act, so it seems the Elder steps in personally. What? Isn’t it foolish even for an Elder? Since it’s normal behavior for a foolish Elder, it doesn’t matter.
Rungken is reckless and powerful, not particularly skilled in the Blood Manipulation Art, but second to none in sniffing out blood. Moreover, his sense for the blood of beasts is incomparable to other Elders. It must be possible because beast’s blood is mixed within his own. The vast lands where he manages beasts—the grasslands and pastures—are a domain well suited to him.
In other words, each Elder’s specialty differs slightly. And the people they are suited to differ as well.
“Lady Kavila and her Ains protect the humans along the coast. As I understand it, each Elder mainly oversees somewhat different groups of humans. Is that right?”
“Differences in inclination definitely exist!”
“In that case, what kind of humans did the late Elder Duke Luskinia mainly oversee?”
Without much deliberation, Rungken answered in his candid manner.
“The sick!”
“The sick? Ailing people?”
“Indeed! That bat used to toy with bodies! If they were vampires, perhaps, but humans dropped dead left and right. Whenever he went looking for humans, they all went under other Elders instead! Only the terminally ill, prepared for death, entrusted their bodies to him! It could kill them, but if it went well, they might keep their lives!”
So those with sound bodies avoid him, while the injured come seeking the last sliver of hope. A peculiar outcome had emerged: the most wretched flocking to the harshest Elder. That must be why the physician had come out from under Luskinia.
“Was that helpful, concubine?”
“Yes, definitely a useful reference. In the domain of the dead Luskinia, there were desperate patients who were mostly modified, so there’s ample reason to hold a grudge against an Elder. I can understand suspicion falling on Lire who became a Yailing.”
“I don’t know who killed him, but I’d like to fight them once! They must be a formidable warrior, after all!”
As Rungken shouted boldly, he suddenly smacked his lips and looked at me.
“In that sense, how about sparring with me!”
“I can’t fight. I’m weak.”
“When exactly are you going to get stronger?”
“Strength and weakness aren’t something you can just decide on a whim, but please wait a little. When I awaken, I’ll become strong enough to bring ruin upon this world.”
Though I spoke the truth, Rungken’s reaction was dismissive.
“Boasting rather excessively, aren’t you? Usually, those types turn out to be nothing special.”
“Exactly because I’m nothing special that I do boast.”
“Grr! Well, that’s true then! So you’re all show and no substance!”
Leaving Rungken to nod, having convinced himself, I sank into thought.
I hadn’t expected much, and as expected, Rungken knew nothing. What information he had was no better than what you’d get from grabbing some random passerby and reading their thoughts.
I probed his memory with thought-reading, but Rungken hadn’t just not killed Luskinia—he’d had no interest in him whatsoever. Even after the death, he’d just thought, ‘So it goes.’
Hmm. Who could it be? No matter how much I read, the culprit doesn’t appear. An Elder dying couldn’t be an accident or a slip, right? Even if it was ten years ago, there’s no way a vampire aged and died in the meantime…
Ah, then what if. An Elder who was present ten years ago, but isn’t here now—is the culprit?
While suspecting this newly surfaced possibility, Rungken rose to his feet.
“Will you return? I’ll escort you! Follow me!”
“Huh? What breeze brings such kindness?”
“I ought to do this much for the Progenitor’s concubine! If you got hurt, how could I face the Progenitor again?”
Just what kind of being is the Progenitor’s concubine, that a boar beastman has learned consideration? I was about to gratefully accept the favor when Rungken suddenly looked into the distance and sniffed loudly. The tusks characteristic of a boar beastman twitched restlessly, as if irritated.
“Besides, there’s a foul smell. It’s unlikely the concubine will be in danger, but there’s never harm in being careful. Humans die so easily, after all.”
“But you can’t smell, can you?”
“Grhk! I can smell blood better than anyone! And this thrill of something rushing in before the bloody wind—truly! Something is coming! I can tell!”
I read his thoughts, but found no particular memory. His excitement stemmed purely from animalistic instinct. Letting out a fierce snort, he stared somewhere in the sky and muttered.
“A bat is flying about. Be careful, King of men. The followers who have lost their patriarch are bound to run wild.”