Dark Moon
When Yuria entered this world, she was in the middle of a sparring match.
Her opponent was a woman with hair as red as a roaring flame. She stood taller than Yuria — taller, and larger in frame altogether. Proportionally, though, their figures were much the same.
"Yuria, what's wrong with you? Spacing out all of a sudden. That's not like you."
The concern in her voice did nothing to soften the blade she swung. Yuria raised her sword and caught the strike. The force behind it was enormous — more than her current body could handle. She let the blade glance off and stepped back.
"…Oh? That was smoother. Did you have some kind of epiphany?"
The woman charged. A heavy sword style built on raw power. Yuria met it with fluid, yielding defense, more instinct than technique. She wasn't really sparring. She was sorting through the memories flooding into her mind.
…Yuria Grace.
Her original self and this world's self shared the same name. The same face. But the lives they had lived were entirely different. Right now, Yuria was sifting through the memories of the woman she had become in this world.
"Haha! Not bad, Yuria!"
Flame bloomed along her opponent's blade.
Not fire. Aura that merely looks like fire.
It burned with the heat of a true blaze. Yuria layered her own aura over her sword — a cool blue set against that searing red.
As their blades clashed, she continued piecing the memories together.
The first was an orphanage. There, her talent as a warrior had been recognized. On the orphanage director's recommendation and with the patronage of the Neo Round Table Council, she had entered the Knight Academy.
The woman fighting her now was the roommate she had met there.
Her name was Armina Braver.
She dreamed of becoming a Knight of the Round Table and restoring the fallen Braver house. She had been the top student at the academy — a monster without precedent in its history, as the nickname went. Yuria, ranked second, had been her closest friend and rival.
Of course, Yuria felt none of that. To her, Armina was simply a woman who existed in these memories. Affection? Not a trace of it.
The academy years themselves held little of interest. Day after day of training to become a knight. Dull, repetitive recollections.
"Yuria!!"
Armina shouted her name and raised her sword high. The flame-like aura compressed along the edge. She swung, and a blazing sword-wave tore toward Yuria.
Yuria's reaction came a beat too late — she had been too absorbed in sorting her memories. Dodging was impossible. Blocking head-on would leave burns on her arms.
Even if the wounds could be healed, she preferred not to scar this body if she could help it. It belonged to someone else, after all.
She made her decision.
The blue aura coating her blade turned black in an instant. The dark aura devoured the crimson sword-wave and erased it completely.
Yuria flicked her sword through the empty air, shaking off the residual black aura.
"What was that just now? I've never seen that technique."
Yuria gave no answer. Learning secret techniques at the Knight Academy was permitted, and there was no obligation to explain them to anyone else.
"Armina. I concede."
"…What kind of anticlimax is that? We were just getting warmed up."
Whether Armina grumbled or not, Yuria sheathed her sword. With a resigned sigh, Armina lowered hers as well.
They headed straight for the showers.
The Knight Academy had no shortage of rules, and one of them required washing after every spar. Cleanliness was taken seriously there — elevated almost to a virtue.
As they walked, Yuria glanced at Armina's body. Not a single scar. And for all the monstrous strength she had displayed in the sparring hall, she looked surprisingly free of visible muscle.
Yuria pulled up what she knew about Armina Braver. Armina carried the blood factor of a salamander, a fire spirit — an innate trait that granted her exceptional physical ability and fire-related powers.
"You've been staring a hole through me this whole time. Is something weird on me?"
Armina looked down at herself, pushing one large breast aside with her hand so she could check her stomach. Below her navel, red pubic hair the same color as her head grew in a thick, flame-like thatch.
"No. Nothing strange. But you've stopped grooming down there? It looks different from last time."
"Ah, this? Apparently it's the trend in Neo London these days."
"…A trend?"
"Yeah. Something about embracing the natural look. Not like anyone else is going to see it anyway… I'll just shave it all off in one go later when I feel like it."
Armina walked over to a showerhead as if none of it mattered in the slightest.
Yuria stepped under the spray and looked at herself in the mirror opposite. No scars — that was good. Her pubic hair was trimmed into an inverted triangle.
Master's preferences are… hmm…
His tastes shifted from time to time. She would meet him in about a month; better to ask then. The hair could wait.
After showering, they returned to the dormitory. Armina sprawled across her bed while Yuria dried her hair with a blow dryer. Magic could have dried it in an instant, but this world's Yuria could not use magic — a penalty of the avatar she had chosen to enter this world.
"Yuria. Once you get your 3-Class knight certification… let's join the Welsh Knight Order together. It's ranked among the best in Neo London, so we'd climb fast. And the Welsh Order is famous for judging people on individual skill, not family name."
Armina already held her 3-Class certification. The only reason she had stayed at the academy was to wait for Yuria. She felt a deep bond with her.
Regrettably, Yuria felt not so much as a speck of reciprocal attachment. A single person occupied the whole of her mind.
"I'm sorry. I intend to stop being a knight."
"What? All of a sudden?! Don't joke around. That's not funny."
"I don't believe the path of a knight suits me."
"Just yesterday you said you thought you could pass the 3-Class exam!"
"I misspoke."
Armina stared at her. After a long sigh, she scratched at her red hair.
"If not a knight… then what?"
"I intend to become a maid."
"…Did you eat something weird? No — I ate the same things, so that can't be it…"
"Being a maid is my true calling."
"You've already decided, haven't you. No point in me trying to talk you out of it."
Armina collapsed back onto the bed, drained.
"I wasted my time waiting."
"I'm sorry."
"Forget it. It's your future. You should be the one to choose. …What if I hired you myself?"
"I'm sorry. I've already arranged my employment."
"The academy director is going to be very disappointed. You know about the debt to the Council, right? Three hundred fifty million credits, was it?"
"Yes. I'm aware. I made this decision with all of that in mind."
"Right. Seventeen years together, and now we're splitting up like this out of nowhere. Feels strange. We're not parting forever, are we?"
"I'll be living in Neo London as well. If you want to meet, we can meet anytime."
"The problem is we won't have a chance for the next year. Just thinking about how hard the Welsh Order is going to work me already has me nervous."
"You'll manage, Armina. You always have."
"Honestly, I'm not afraid. I'm looking forward to it. I will become a Knight of the Round Table… and I will restore my house."
A week later, Armina joined the Welsh Knight Order.
Yuria walked the streets of Neo London, pulling a suitcase behind her. The weather there was notoriously fickle, so carrying an umbrella was non-negotiable.
Rattle. Rattle-rattle.
This was her third day circling the area around Big Ben. She had one purpose: a fated encounter with her Master.
Of course, she already knew where he lived. Going straight to his door would have been far too strange, so she restrained herself.
"My lady. Might you be looking for employment?"
A gentleman in a suit asked with careful courtesy.
Yuria smiled and shook her head.
"I already have a position."
"Ah, I see. Should your current workplace prove unsatisfactory, please contact us here."
He offered a business card. The title printed on it read Head Butler of House Bellart.
"If the opportunity arises."
The man bowed politely and left.
Yuria tore the card in half and dropped it in a trash bin. She had entered this world for one reason only: to serve a single Master. Nothing else.
Rattle-rattle.
She took up the suitcase again and walked the gray, dismal streets of Neo London.
And at last, the moment she had been waiting for arrived.
In the distance, she saw him. The crowd partially obscured him, but his presence, his bearing, the way he walked — every detail confirmed it was her Master.
Her heart gave a hard beat.
The bleak gray world around her bloomed into vivid color.
Rattle-rattle. Rattle!
Yuria was careful not to let her steps look too eager. She forced herself to stay composed as she walked.
The distance closed. Her heart pounded with wild, living force.
And then she met him.
She smiled and approached. The knowledge that he would not remember her sent a small ache through one corner of her heart, but she did not let it show. Today was a good day.
Once, when she herself had lost her memories, he had still been her Master. Even if he had lost his, he was still her Master — and that was all that mattered.
Suppressing the urge to run to him and throw her arms around him, Yuria spoke.
"Hello, Master. Might you be in need of a maid?"