-Arc 1-

  Chapter 1

  “Who Are You?”

  *?*?*?*

  ???: “She’s still unconscious—”

  ???: “...Will she be..——”

  ???: “—...It may be that——”

  Unfamiliar, foggy sounds in the misty shape of voices cut through the viscous quiet. Blank, unendingness. It was hot with the rigidness of nothing. Cold with the silence that was made by the lack of anything anywhere. Nothing existed, after all.

  What was anything but this? Those voices were a thing but they came from no source. Something that comes from no source is nothing at all. Something must confirm its existence. If right now, nothing existed but those voices, then they cannot be confirmed. You cannot confirm yourself.

  ???: “——? Can you hear m…?”

  Ringing. That’s another sound. A high pitched noise that did nothing to confirm the existence of those sounds.

  —*—

  Light broke through slits of opening eyes. Her body was stiff and ached to move. That aching that seeped from her muscles had a pleasant quality as well, as if those movements were healthy and appreciated by her limbs.

  Pulling herself up off the soft mattress, ticklish strands of hair fell from her forehead to her face. Her eye twitching, she pushed that hair away.

  She took inventory of her surroundings. It appeared to be some sort of bedroom, perhaps? It was a room with a bed and she happened to be on that bed.

  The room was cluttered in a neat way. Chaotically organized in a lived-in manner. A sense of unease crept up her core. Being in someone else’s room like this, gazing at their belongings and lying in this person's bed, it was unsettling.

  Soft golden light filtered through the pale curtains. The curtains were thick enough to mask the outside in a blur, but a cool breeze from behind them caused them to gently sway.

  There was a clock on the wall. Shaped like a cat. Resting there like a sentinel, it marked the time with rhythmical clicking.

  It was strange, but she didn't know how to read a clock.

  The blankets she was under were a crimson color and quite soft. Velvety and warm, but a bit too hot for the neutral temperature of the room, so she pushed them off herself.

  Swinging her legs over the side of the mattress, she noticed a chair that was pulled up to the bedside. An open book and a tray that looks freshly eaten off rests on the night stand. Perhaps they were left by the owner of this room.

  The soft carpet was a fun sensation on her bare feet, and she took a moment to wriggle her toes on the fabric of it.

  The golden light and cool breeze were enticing, and as she reached out to open the curtain, her fingers hesitated. Finally laxing them, she took a step back. She shouldn't touch anything that isn't hers without permission.

  The vanity on the dresser showed a girl staring back at her. Long white hair which was a bit messy from sleeping. A wonderful, blank face followed her movements, and the girl in the reflection stared back with crimson eyes.

  The door behind her opened, and a girl with long, braided red hair stepped in. She didn’t seem to notice her as she rubbed her tired blue eyes. She was dressed quite elegantly in a black and white dress with frills, with an apron over her and a headband of the same black and white frilly nature over her head.

  She assumed the red haired girl was the owner of this room, and so she took a step forward to make an apology.

  Removing her fist from her blue eyes and adjusting from the blur of rubbing them, the red haired girl’s gaze settled onto her. Her blue eyes had dark marks under them, and she blinked a few times to stare.

  ???: “You’re awake! Are you okay? Are you feeling alright?”

  Gracefully, she seemed to glide up to her and with warm hands. The red haired girl cupped the other’s cheeks with glistening eyes and a wide smile.

  ???: “You don't hurt anywhere, do you? I’m sure you’re probably still a bit groggy, so take your time.”

  She flinched a bit at the sudden warm hands of the girl in the black and white dress. Her intense blue gaze was too intense to meet, so she averted her eyes.

  ???: “My… head?”

  Her voice was dry and felt as if it was a dusty, unused tool.

  Red Haired Girl: “Yes, your head, you silly girl. Do you feel alright?”

  ???: “I suppose so… I’m sorry for—”

  Red Haired Girl: “Oh, that’s a relief. You were asleep for quite some time after that ordeal at the village, so I—”

  ???: “Sorry to ask, but…”

  The one with her hands still on her cheeks raised an eyebrow for a moment, tilting her head slightly with the formation of the question.

  ???: “—Who are you?”

  The Maids of

  Count Schwartzhardt's Manor

  Red Haired Girl: “Huh..?”

  She tilted her head further, but that curious tilt of her head shrunk as she retracted a bit.

  ???: “I didn't mean to be rude… I’m just a bit confused on… who you are.”

  Red Haired Girl: “Hk~”

  A short gasp fell from her lips as her warm fingers drew from the other’s face. As she did so, she took a few steps back.

  Red Haired Girl: “H-Heh… Y’know, I’m not used to you making jokes like this. Did your nap invigorate you? We were all really worried about you.”

  ???: “You all?”

  Red Haired Girl: “Ha?”

  ???: “I wasn't making a joke. I’m sorry for showing up in your room unannounced. How I got here is quite nebulous, even to me. But if it’s not rude, I would like to ask again. Who are you?”

  Red Haired Girl: “Eris… it’s not a proper thing for…”

  ???: “Hm?”

  Red Haired Girl: “—a maid…”

  ???: “A maid?”

  Red Haired Girl: “...to play around about this kind of thing…~”

  Saying those words, her blue eyes welled up with tears and streaks formed at her cheeks as water rolled down them.

  ???: “W-Wait a minute. Don't cry… Is there something wrong? Did I do something-”

  Red Haired Girl: “Eris… why are you… hk~ saying such things? Asking such… silly questions?”

  ???: “Eris…?”

  She reached out to put a hand on the sobbing girl’s shoulder, but she slumped down to her knees before the hand could make it.

  Red Haired Girl: “Eris…”

  ???: “Eris..?”

  That name that she kept saying. Who’s was it? She had never heard it before. It was a pretty name, she felt, but she had never met a person with that name.

  The door which was left cracked open creaks gently.

  A head of braided, emerald green hair peaked in. Seeing the scene, her matching green eyes widened and she stepped into the room fully. She was wearing the same dress as the red haired girl. Perhaps they were as what she mentioned- maids.

  Green Haired Girl: “Eris! You’re awake!”

  Saying that, she stepped to the side of the Red haired girl and handed her a small handkerchief. The sobbing one ignored the gesture.

  Green Haired Girl: “Seraphine is so happy you’re awake she’s started crying.”

  She said that as she sighed, crouching down next to the crying girl and patted her head gently.

  ???: “Seraphine?

  Green Haired Girl: “Hm?”

  ???: “Is that her?”

  She points to the crying girl.

  Greed Haired Girl: “Eris?”

  ???: “Eris?”

  Again, that name. Perhaps it held some sort of meaning or it was an inside joke or something.

  Green Haired Girl: “What do you…”

  Her face contorted similarly to how the red one’s did. Noticing a pattern, she turned to face herself in the mirror again. It would make sense that she would elicit such a reaction if she had something terrible on her face or she was making a scowl. Looking into the reflection, that unfamiliar yet beautiful girl stared back at her. Nothing strange on her face and no mean expression. Perhaps there was some sort of stigma around people who looked like her around here?

  Green Haired Girl: “Eris, have you started becoming a jokester after your nap?”

  ???: “Jokester? Again, I’m not really trying to be funny. I don't know what I said to upset you two, but please tell me and I’ll do my best to make up for it.”

  The look on her green eyes continues to sink.

  Green Haired Girl: “Eris, are you…?”

  ???: “Who is Eris?”

  —*—

  Her green eyes twitched as her well shaped face went pale. Her lip quivered slightly and her gaze sank to the floor.

  Then after a breath, she recovered from that staggered state, and placed a hand over her chest.

  Exhaling calmly, she gave a smile to the white-haired girl, extending out that same hand.

  The aforementioned white-haired girl’s eyes widened slightly. Her instincts told her to reach out for it, and with nothing else to go off of, and nothing else to trust, she did so.

  The warm hand enveloped the other as it approached, and with a gentle squeeze with her fingers, the green haired girl spoke.

  Green Haired Girl: “Eris is your name. Just Eris. Nothing fancy like having a last name.”

  Eris: “Me?”

  Green Haired Girl: “And my name is Petra. Just Petra. I'm not so fancy either.”

  Eris: “Petra…”

  That name was unfamiliar to her as well. But most peculiar was the name that she was just given. It seemed to her that a name was something given at birth, and you would never forget your own. It was the first thing that you said when you introduced yourself, and it’s a title that not only shapes both your present and future, but also how others perceive you.

  If you were from a neighboring country who spoke a different language, having a name originating from that culture would distinguish you from the crowd of others whose names are native to the current location.

  If you had something fancy like a last name or title, that would distinguish you from common folk as someone important or wealthy. That was the assumption that could be made here anyways.

  So to have to be told what her name was, was quite troubling for the white haired girl. She had never heard this name before and so it seemed unlikely that it was her.

  However—

  When thinking about it- her true identity- her name which distinguished her…

  -Was not present in her memories.

  It made her somewhat of a ghost. An indistinguishable spectre without a source, and without a name, nothing to confirm her.

  Petra: “Yes, I’m Petra. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Eris.”

  Eris: “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  The white haired girl said that, the expression unfamiliar on her tongue. Being addressed by a name like that, which she has never heard, was equally as unsettling. As unsettling as waking up in this room which wasn't hers.

  The origin of this room was also dubious. Who’s home it was in, and where such a home was located was ambiguous. Attempts to deduce where she could be were also met with failure. After all, no place outside of this room existed in her memories.

  Of course, she knew other places existed, but getting into specifics is something Eris could not do.

  Petra: “This is Seraphine. She’s a bit of a mess right now, so please be patient with her.”

  Eris: “I understand. Did something happen?”

  Petra’s cordial smile faltered for a brief moment, but it's repaired immediately.

  Petra: “Hm, well, you could say that something did happen. But I don't want to overwhelm you with stuff right now, since I’m sure you’re very confused.”

  Eris: “That would be correct… But I hate to be the cause of someone’s suffering. If it was something I did, then I’d like to make up for it.”

  Petra giggles whole-heartedly.

  Petra: “I guess it really is Eris's true nature.”

  Seraphine looks up as Petra makes that comment. Tears still ran down her cheeks, but she was able to make a faint smile.

  Seraphine: “I guess so.”

  Sniffing and wiping her tears with Petra’s handkerchief, she gracefully stands up and gives a bow to Eris.

  The gesture was odd to her. She did not remember doing anything to earn such a gesture of respect. All she had ever done was wake up in someone else’s room and make two girls have sad expressions. All things considered, two cruel acts.

  The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Eris: “Eris’s true nature?”

  Petra: “Always thinking about others.”

  —*—

  Petra and the still sniffling Seraphine had taken Eris by each hand, sharing her as they took her out of the room and down the hall.

  It was disorienting, because she had believed that she was in a small cottage of some sort before, a presumption she had no basis for but assumed anyways. However, she had been proven wrong by the massive hallways of cream, ornate walls and crimson carpet. Lavish artwork hung on the walls and it was all pristinely kept.

  After being led to a doorway, the two girls stopped Eris.

  Petra leaned in, patting Eris on her shoulder.

  Petra: “Sorry for taking you around like this without explaining much. I understand you’re probably pretty confused, but I hope this will start to clear things up.”

  Eris: “Oh- mmh- sure…”

  Saying that, Petra motioned for Seraphine to open the door. The red haired girl did so, and a cold breeze swept in from behind the door as it revealed the room behind.

  It was an oval shaped room, surrounded by cluttered shelves of random, nondescript and unknown items. A completely eclectic collection of trinkets.

  In the center of the room, behind a pale curved desk, was a darkly dressed man. Clad in almost entirely black from head to toe, he was only kept together with a purple cloak over his back and shoulders. His long black hair was under a black, wide brimmed hat with a black feather, the top half of his face shrouded in darkness.

  The lower half of his face which she could see, was pale and she could only describe him as ‘pretty.’ A pretty man with an androgynous face. Thin lips which were bent into a grin. His hands were locked together, and the shadow of his hat kept most of his other features hidden.

  ???: “Ahh, good morning my lovely servants. It seems dear Eris has arisen from her slumber?”

  As he says this, the man unclasps his hands and rests them idly by his sides. A candlelight flickers across his face, giving Eris a brief glimpse of the rest of his sharp facial features. A thin, pale nose, and golden eyes.

  The two maids, Seraphine and Petra, release Eris's hands and deeply bow with a remarkably straight posture. Eris watches as the man’s golden eyes note their gesture, then lie on Eris. Seeing her, he smiles widely.

  ???: “It is unusual for you to be so curt, dear Eris. But of course, I am not a count so cruel as to punish someone for forgetting a simple act as such.”

  Eris: “I’m sorry… Did I do something wrong?”

  Petra: “My apologies on Eris’s behalf, sir. It can be explained.”

  ???: “As I said, I am not concerned about it. Bowing is such a rigid performance, isn't it?”

  Petra & Seraphine: “Yes, sir.”

  Watching the two, but especially Petra, handle this odd man was certainly interesting for Eris. But to be entertained she would have to discard her perturbences first.

  Petra: “Actually, sir, if I may?”

  He nods slowly.

  Petra: “Eris has…”

  The man’s eyes widen, but his grin never falters.

  With her voice cracking like Seraphine’s did when Eris asked that rude question, Petra finished her sentence.

  Petra: “...forgotten everything.”

  —*—

  After a cold, sharp period of silence, the man nods.

  ???: “I understand. If that’s the case, then our dear Eris is not the Eris we are familiar with?”

  Seraphine shrinks back from her straight posture.

  Petra: “That is… true, it seems.”

  His grin continuing to stay strong, the man rises from his chair and reveals his large, slender form.

  ???: “In that case.”

  Saying that, the man approaches the three girls. Towering over them, he looks down at Eris’s vermillion eyes and with a friendly smile, he curls his arm under his gut, and with the other arm extended outwards, he takes a deep bow.

  ???: “I am Count Carlos Schwartzhardt, Lord of this manor and Count of Auriga, in the Kingdom of Galica.”

  A given name with a last name. Along with a title, if her presumptions about last names and titles are to be trusted, then that must put this Carlos into a category far above the common person.

  Along with that, to be a Count of some sort, in a Kingdom of some sort, immediately places you high in the ranking of ‘important people.’

  Eris: “Um- It is a pleasure to meet you, Count Carlos Schwartzhardt.”

  She says this and mimics the bows she has seen, a mixture of Petra and Seraphine's bows along with the theatrical one of Carlos, she puts her hands under her stomach and curls her body forwards.

  Carlos places a black gloved hand over his lips as he lets out a reserved chuckle.

  Carlos: “Very nice, very nice. For now, you may call me Carlos.”

  Eris: “Carlos? Isn't that quite rude?”

  Carlos: “Do not worry, dear Eris. I am not one so structured as to be concerned with titles.”

  Eris: “I understand… Then, Carlos.”

  Carlos nods, crossing his arms under the purple cover of his cloak.

  Carlos: “With our introductions out of the way… you will have to make a few more. Is that fine with you, dear Eris?”

  Eris: “I suppose that is fine with me, Carlos.”

  —*—

  Eris had been taken to yet another room, this time accompanied by the lord of the manor.

  The room she had been taken to was, out of all three rooms she remembers being in, the largest and grandest.

  It was apparently called the great hall, and Eris had no struggle believing that was the case. It was a truly massive corridor, with a rounded marble ceiling that had to be held up by a dozen pillars.

  Through the center, a carpet of the same crimson color as the smaller halls ran through from the main door, but this one was about the width of twenty people and was traced by the ends with golden silk.

  Many smaller hallways and doors connected and led to-or-from this grand hall in a rather unharmonious manner. It seemed almost random, and arduous to navigate even if you were experienced in the layout.

  But even so, it only took a few minutes before the dispatched Seraphine had collected and brought four others to the hall.

  They were all wearing the same dress as each other.

  Carlos: “This will come as shocking and unfortunate news to you all, but I’m afraid it has to be said.”

  Those words from Carlos caused the gathered to tense up.

  Carlos: “As we all know, our dear Eris has been unconscious for the last few days after that ordeal at the village. She has woken up unharmed, thankfully. However—”

  ‘However’ was the final nail, though, and the tension turned to pressure. The girls clutched at their sleeves, or fidgeted with their thumbs.

  Carlos: “It seems that she does not have any of her memories.”

  Finally the words were let out. Seraphine, who had been standing with the group, clutched her face again and her muffled sobs fell into the chest of a maid with cascading blue hair. That girl with blue hair gently stroked the fiery strands of vermillion, hiding her own face by looking away from Eris.

  Petra was seen standing beside Eris, and she was the only one Eris felt comfortable enough to look at for more than a second. Petra gave her a reassuring smile, but her eyes did not share the same comfort.

  There was a girl with silver hair. Eris’s was white, but the silver was darker and caught light like real silver would. Of course, Eris had not ever laid her eyes on such a mineral to confirm if that was the case.

  She crossed her arms, and she simply sighed as she heard the news. She locked her pale, cream eyes with Eris. Her crimson ones broke from the uncomfortable hold. The silver haired girl was hard to read, and Eris didn't really know how she felt about this interaction.

  The most defining trait of the girl next to the silver one was not her dark, violet hair, or her gentle features which displayed a distressed expression. Not even the small, black curved horns that protruded from the top of her head.

  —But rather, her eyes.

  A mixture of violet and pink which nebulated into a stunning mixture. Like a star had spilled its insides out onto the vastness of the night sky.

  The eyes of that girl widened, as if she was equally surprised to see Eris staring at her as Eris was to see those eyes.

  Sure, the appearance of such eyes would capture anyone’s attention. But it wasn't just their physical appearance. It was like she had an aura which physically grabbed your soul, and to free yourself from its mesmerization, you have to steal yourself from the second reality it sends you to.

  So Eris did so, blinking the daze away, she glanced at the last girl.

  A short bob of black hair. Horns on her head like the other one had, but these ones were smaller with a more pronounced shape. Her gaze was cast to the floor, but her eyes were just visible. Like Eris, she shared a crimson eye color.

  She was the shortest of all of them, Eris included, and she stood slightly behind Mirra, who overshadowed her small presence.

  ???: “In what way has she forgotten? Will she get them back soon?”

  The silver haired maid asked, her voice razor sharp and cutting. Her gaze alternated between Carlos and Eris.

  Carlos: “Well, I am not an expert on amnesia, but from what I’ve seen, it is everything.”

  Carlos looks down to Eris, and giving a smirk, he places his hands on his hips.

  Carlos: “Eris, dear, can you elaborate on your current situation? Nobody knows you like yourself, after all!”

  Carlos’s statement came with a laugh, but it didn't seem that funny. On the contrary, it only made the faces of the maids worse.

  Still, Eris felt obligated to provide information. Carlos has been nothing but hospitable to her.

  Eris: “I guess, the first thing I remember is waking up in a room?”

  Carlos: “This morning?”

  Eris nods. A set of murmurs came about from her visual confirmation, and the emotions displayed on each of their faces intensified. Especially the silver haired one’s.

  Carlos: “Weeeeell, I suppose it goes without saying, but… you don't remember any of your comrade’s names, either, correct? Nor your own?”

  Eris: “Well, I was told my name is Eris, so I'll believe that. And I know you, Carlos, as well as Petra and Seraphine, since I have been introduced to you all. However…”

  Gazing at her macabre looking audience, she finds the words unwilling to remove themselves from her lips. Would she disappoint them? Clearly, ‘Eris’ was a very important person to them. When the news was broken to them, would she make things worse? She felt they already knew the answer, but still it was difficult.

  Regardless, it is worse to lie than to tell a bad truth.

  Eris: “—I don't remember any of you. I’m sorry!”

  Copying the bows she saw earlier, she lowers her upper half towards the ground.

  Of course, there was silence. That was what she was hoping for. And mercifully, no agonized cries were made, and nobody complained.

  The blue haired one continued to console Seraphine. Cream colored eyes still glared at her for a reason unknown, and the girl of mesmerizing eyes still guarded the visage of the one behind her.

  Carlos: “Well, it is unfortunate, but as they say… it can't be helped.”

  Carlos’s attitude about the situation was rather lackadaisical, but to Eris she found it preferable than the looks of the maids.

  On the topic of maids, the question was raised in Eris's mind of why she was here. It would be obvious to assume that she had some sort of business here, as everyone she has met seems to have had some relation with her before.

  It was possible she was someone of political importance. The implications of someone in a position like that having amnesia would be dire, so Eris hoped it was not the case.

  Another possibility is that she was simply a guest or visitor, though the familiarity they shared with who Eris was supposed to be could not be explained with that answer.

  Another possibility was that she was Carlos’s wife. However, she quickly rules that out due to her disgust with that idea. Also, it seems unlikely that Carlos would act so nonchalantly like this if it were the case.

  The final possibility is—

  Carlos: “My dear Eris, since you are quite a different person than the one before, I feel it is only fair that I do not hold you here any longer. So I will present you with a choice.”

  Eris: “A choice?”

  Thinking back on her limited memory of only the past hour she’s been conscious for, has she been able to make a choice for herself? None came to mind.

  Carlos: “Yes, my dear. You see, before your unfortunate memory loss, you were a diligent maid in my manor. These lovely girls are- were- your comrades at arms.”

  That was the final possibility that she could think of, and the most likely. A maid.

  Eris: “Ah…hah…”

  Still, the choice teased has not been revealed.

  Carlos: “With your amnesia it would be erroneous to say your contract with me still holds value since, from your perspective, you did not sign it yourself, is that right?”

  Eris: “Ehh- yes, I suppose that is the case.”

  Carlos: “Good! We are already so close with eachother! My heart is warmed!”

  To emphasize his statement, Carlos clutches his gloved hands to his cloaked chest.

  Carlos: “So, my dear Eris. My choice to you is… You can take your belongings and head out to the great-wide-civilized world where adventure and danger await- with mine and my lovely maids’ blessings, of course. —Or, you can be welcomed back into the warm embrace of this manor, and be paid a fair wage in exchange for your diligent service as my maid, once again!”

  Eris: “——”

  Carlos: “Of course, you have time to think about it.”

  —*—

  The time to think about it was much appreciated, as it, after all, her first ever decision.

  Considering the first choice, it would seem the most natural option. A whole world out there, unknown and wonderful, and ripe with the fruit of adventure.

  However, Eris knows that she lacks the qualities that would make an adventurer not only an adventurer, but also a functioning member of society.

  Though the amnesia part is strange, because though she feels as if she remembers plenty of things, trying to remember anything past waking up an hour ago was not possible.

  Names, locations, society, politics and geography. Dangers and intrigue, all unknown to her. Decades of insider knowledge have been lost, and now she is an outsider with an unconfirmed existence.

  Rather, she has been confirmed now.

  The people here, namely Seraphine and Petra, were the ones who have confirmed her. Her existence has originated here in that bed, and those who know her name are confirming her right now.

  If there was anywhere for a spectre to gain a physical form, it is a place where an empty shell is waiting for it.

  The confirmation of her existence has started here, and so—

  Eris: “I will stay here.”

  —*—

  Petra's sturdy pace was a grounding anchor. In the opulent halls of the Schwartzhardt Manor, with massive high ceilings and beautiful artwork, to let your head wander was a given.

  But with such a firm presence, losing control like that would be impossible.

  Petra: “This is your room. You remember waking up here, right?”

  Taking Eris inside, it was indeed the same room as she had awoken in, though the route to get here felt different.

  The same organized-clutter, with light of a softer and paler hue than before flickering inside from the window.

  It made sense that this was her room, as she had woken up here as her first memory. The thought that it would be hers had never occurred to her since it was so unfamiliar.

  Still, it was unfamiliar and looking over a stranger’s belongings like this was an uncomfortable sensation. Especially to know that these objects which aren't hers are hers, it unsettles her with a tension in her stomach.

  Petra seems to be giving a bit of time for Eris, since she hasn't said anything about her looking around with a curious expression.

  There was a stuffed animal on the pillow. A soft, gray creature with sewn on ears and a smirk stitched in on the face. Beady, soulless black eyes stared back at her, and the plush in her grasp felt creepy.

  Petra: “That’s Barry, I think is what you named him. You loved him.”

  Eris: “I loved him?”

  Petra: “Can't sleep without him.”

  Eris placed the can't-sleep-without back into its spot on the bed. Honestly, she felt like she couldn't sleep if it is there.

  On the wall was a small bookshelf. Colorfully bound books of varying sizes were lined up neatly.

  Petra: “You love… loved… reading. You always had a book in your hand if you weren't working or eating.”

  Eris gazed at the leather bound articles. She had never read before, not in her memory, so if she likes reading is unconfirmed.

  Eris: “What are her favorites?”

  Petra: “Her?”

  It was a slip-up, but an inevitable one. It was hard to picture Eris as herself.

  Eris: “—My favorites?”

  Petra bites her lip, using a smile to stifle a saddened look.

  Petra: “You loved the Fables of Rigel. It’s a bunch of famous stories and myths from the capital.”

  That sounds, to put it bluntly, quite boring, in the opinion of Eris. Still, if ‘Eris’ liked it, then she must trust her.

  Standing in front of the vanity mirror, ‘Eris’s’ face stares back. Though she knew it wasn't hers, it was hard to say it wasn't. The body she was in was the medium for her spectral mind, but was it hers in the end?

  For now, she’ll say it’s a shared body. If ‘Eris’ wants to reclaim it later, then it would be okay.

  White hair, crimson eyes. A wonderful face. How envious.

  Eris: “I'm supposed to change?”

  Petra: “Yes. Your uniforms should be hanging up in your closet. I’ll step out as you change, but tell me when you have it on and I’ll show you how to make it perfect.”

  Petra, winking, stepped out of Eris’s new room and gently shut the door.

  The dress fit perfectly. It should be expected, really, but it was already perfectly broken in to her body and seemed to be crafted and sewn exactly to her measurements. Indeed, Eris and ‘Eris’ share the same body.

  Pulling her bright hair out, as some of her long locks were under the dress from putting it on, she stares at the mirror again.

  ‘Eris’ stared back at her.

  There was no familiarity looking into the reflection. A face she had only seen as many times as, say, the silver haired maid. It was a face on a body which she possessed, but on borrowed time.

  Eris: “Who are you?”