In life, signposts were necessary.
Life was a continuous series of bitter crossroads, where the distinction between the path and the mire was blurry.
Those who walked with overconfidence would someday struggle in the mire.
Those too fearful to trust anything could not move forward.
Thus, human life needed signposts.
Usher understood this truth.
For it was those very signposts that had pulled him out of a terrible mire.
“Hey.”
His signpost took the form of a young girl.
In difficult moments, she would always appear, walking with her long, pale blue hair flowing.
She would then find him hiding in the shadows of an alley and approach.
Then, kneeling to meet his gaze, she would ask, “Why are you crying?”
Whether she could help him.
“Is there something sad troubling you?”
Offering to listen to his voice.
“Well… I don’t have a handkerchief. If it’s not too forward, may I wipe it away with my hand?”
Offering to take away his tears.
That day was a turning point.
Her kindness, which some might dismiss as shallow, changed Usher’s life.
The hand that wiped away his tears left an indelible mark on him.
His drifting, purposeless life, like a waterweed, finally found direction.
He was captivated by the warmth of her outstretched hand, her dimpled smile, and the crescent moon shape her eyes took when she laughed.
From that day forward, he chased that moment endlessly.
And finally, today had arrived.
“Holy Knight Usher Therbion. From today, you shall be the Saint’s guard knight.”
Usher had reached the end of his path.
This was what he had yearned for over the past ten years.
It was a late night.
Usher looked in the mirror and made a stern face.
His black hair was neatly cut.
His eyes were as blue as always.
When he smiled, his face softened into a friendly expression.
Anyone who saw him would not have a bad first impression.
He was quite satisfied with himself.
He could barely wait for tomorrow.
“Haha…!”
Just as he laughed, a scolding voice reached him.
“Feeling good?”
Usher turned his head.
A man was sitting in his room’s chair, legs crossed.
He had brown hair, a stubbly, unkempt jawline, and half-closed eyes.
It was Marvin, a fellow knight who had become a Holy Knight the same year as Usher.
Marvin clicked his tongue.
“Is it really that great? Standing guard night and day, unable to sleep properly, and you’re thrilled?”
“It’s a meaningful duty. I’ll be the Saint’s guard knight.”
“Whoa, this guy’s nuts.”
Marvin clicked his tongue.
He continued, looking as if he couldn’t understand.
“Come on, you know what it’s like for the guard knights of that woman, Rubena. Three are gaunt from dealing with her hysteria, two broke down in tears and were dismissed, and one even went bald. Being a guard knight makes you go bald, you know? Do you want to go bald?”
“That’s an exaggeration. And that’s the story with Saint Rubena’s guards.”
“Think it’s different for other Saints? They’re all spoiled from being coddled since childhood. Do you think Rubena’s the only one? Even Judith has terrible rumors about her.”
“Saint Bersia is different.”
“Oh, poor soul.”
Marvin clicked his tongue.
But Usher didn’t flinch.
Instead, he scolded Marvin.
“You’re the pitiful one. You’ve never even spoken to a Saint, yet you’re blinded by prejudice.”
Certainly, many bad rumors circulated about those called Saints within the Order.
But Usher knew.
Bersia, the Saint he was to serve, was different.
He could be sure of it.
After all, he had seen her kindness firsthand.
— Why are you crying?
Bersia was the type of person who could approach a stranger and wipe the dirt from their face with her delicate hands.
That meeting was the first comfort to touch Usher’s harsh life.
Usher was saved by Bersia’s hand that day, and it gave him a reason to live.
In other words, he had found his calling.
Usher believed that someone like her, who could save others with kindness, deserved a long life.
His remaining life was dedicated to that cause.
“She’s a good person. She’s actually the one with the least rumors.”
“You idiot! No rumors means she’s just that thorough!”
“That’s another exaggeration.”
Usher brushed off Marvin’s slander with a soft smile.
“It’ll be fine. Now, stop worrying about me and go. It’s almost lights out.”
“Ahh, I give up.”
Marvin didn’t stop disparaging Bersia until the end.
Usher laughed it off.
He knew Marvin showed affection in his own way, even if it didn’t look that way.
“Goodnight.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you! Seriously!”
“Sure, sure.”
Bang!
With that, the door closed.
Alone in his room, Usher let out a long breath and began his preparations for bed.
He arranged the bedding, neatly hung the uniform he would wear from tomorrow on the wall, propped his sword by the table, and closed the window.
Afterward, he knelt by the window and prayed.
‘O Holy Father, may I be a faithful servant, protecting Your daughter. Keep her safe and let this sword be close at hand.’
If harm were to come, let it come to me first…
‘…Allow me not to be far from her.’
Finishing his prayer, Usher smiled brightly as he opened his eyes.
The stars outside shone brilliantly.
He had an odd certainty that his prayer had reached its destination today.
He was able to fall asleep feeling good.
The thought that crossed Usher’s mind as he closed his eyes was this:
‘How should I greet her?’
For Usher, Bersia was a great figure who had changed his life, but to her, he was likely just a passerby from a distant past.
He shouldn’t act overly familiar, nor too stiff.
He should first show his sincerity as her devoted servant.
Yes, that seemed appropriate.
‘From today, I am Usher Therbion, here to serve you, Saint.’
A smile spread across his face again.
And before he knew it, drowsiness crept over him.
Perhaps his excitement all day had worn him out.
“……”
He quickly slipped into unconsciousness.
The depth of his sleep was unusual, almost too deep by his standards.
Buzz—
Usher felt a loss of awareness.
It felt as if his body was far away, his free will was fading, and only his mind floated in a void.
He flailed, desperate, lost in emptiness that was almost terrifying.
He had no idea how long he struggled in that state.
In the midst of it, he heard a voice.
[It shall be done.]
Then, it was over.
Morning arrived.
Slowly opening his eyes, Usher felt a strange sensation.
“Saint! It’s time for your morning prayers!”
Something felt wrong.
“Saint? You don’t look well. Did you have a nightmare?”
Upon opening his eyes, a girl with a short bobbed hair called him Saint.
‘Am I still dreaming?’
The idea of dreaming he was a Saint was embarrassing enough.
Chuckling, Usher raised himself.
Then, he froze.
“…?”
Everything felt strange.
A foreign room, unfamiliar furniture, and an unaccustomed bodily sensation.
What was stranger was what Usher saw in the mirror at the end of his gaze.
Reflected there was long, light-blue hair, and a graceful face with blue eyes—eyes filled with confusion.
It was the face of the most beautiful, compassionate person he remembered.
What was happening?
When he raised his hand to touch his cheek, the woman in the mirror—Saint Bersia—mirrored his movements.
His mind froze.
He pondered for a long while before recalling the voice he heard in the dream.
[It shall be done.]
His face turned pale.
A hollow laugh escaped him.
‘No way…’
But even as he thought that, certainty rose within him.
Perhaps it was because he remembered the prayer he had made the previous day.
…Allow me not to be far from her.
It seemed God had answered his prayer.
A little too literally, perhaps.
Upon realizing the situation, Usher jumped up, leaving the short-haired girl calling him behind, and dashed out of the room.
The first thought that crossed his mind in this predicament was Bersia.
‘If I’m in her body, then that means…!’
She’s in mine.
The thought of the shock she would feel made his heart pound; he couldn’t stop running.
He ran until he was out of breath.
And as he crossed the church grounds, his worry only grew.
‘If this body is this weak, she’s likely never faced any harsh situations!’
He was so frantic that even the feeling of breathlessness made him anxious.
Finally, he arrived at his barracks.
Passing the startled knights bowing their heads, he arrived at his door.
Just as he burst in with a bang—
Thunk, Usher froze.
Or more precisely, Bersia’s body that Usher controlled froze.
A blank look came over his face.
His mind failed to immediately process the scene.
It was understandable.
Right before his eyes was the man who had been himself until yesterday, touching himself with a look of intrigue.
What he was touching was all too obvious.
His cognition lagged behind the information.
At that moment, the Usher Trebion in front of him—the person in that body—exclaimed.
“Wow, a pepper.”
His eyes
sparkled.
Usher’s lips twitched up into an awkward smile.
‘Please.’
Please let it not be what I think. Please let the person in that body be someone else, Usher muttered.
It might not have been the right thing to do, but he spoke out.
“Saint…?”
“Yes?”
He looked up and gazed at Usher with a curious expression, as if wondering why he was calling.
His reunion with the Saint was the worst possible scenario.