Near the heart of the encampment, a servant navigated her way through the complex network of intersecting pathways. Her outward demeanor was a facade of calm, with casual, even steps and an upright posture that exuded confidence. Yet, beneath this composed exterior, a storm of frustration and impatience brewed, cleverly concealed behind an impassive visage.

When dawn broke, an issue had emerged within the ranks of the servant staff, signaling the onset of a chilly and troubling morning. Her irritation, bordering on anger, stemmed from the realization that this issue had arisen due to negligence, a term she held in deep disdain. Mistakes were inevitable, most she could forgive, understanding that perfection remained an elusive ideal. Humans, after all, were never crafted for perfection. However, any mistakes born of negligence were transgressions she found unforgivable, and that includes herself.

While there was a distinction between servants and maids, in terms of appearance, they looked nearly identical. Their uniforms were the same, with the only reliable way to differentiate the two being their ribbons. The servants' ribbons were embroidered, while the maids' were not, a subtle but important difference. Within this military setting, the servants also did not carry swords. Unlike their half-sisters, they preferred to minimize unwanted attention wherever possible. Everything they did was executed with the intention of stealth. Their goal: to fade into the background, to become mere silhouettes in the daily hustle, easily forgotten by those they encountered.

When possible, a servant would avoid paths with people altogether, a task a bit difficult in a military encampment but one that was getting easier as casualties mounted. Taking increasingly desolate routes within the labyrinthine camp, now that its former occupants lay rotten and silent.

She turned a corner, opting for a shortcut that veered away from the well-trodden dirt path. Passing through a succession of empty tents meticulously aligned on either side, she traversed the vacant quarters of a unit obliterated only a day prior. Lost in contemplation, she refrained from succumbing to the temptations that begged her to bite her lip in displeasure. Having at last emerged from the cluster of tents, she seamlessly reunited with the main path, embarking on a winding journey through turns and bends until she ultimately arrived at her destination.

A small tent, its unassuming exterior disrupted only by the bold Kolba emblem branding its side and the two maids guarding the entrance. Stifling a displeased frown, she approached with caution. She had never truly understood, or more precisely, agreed to the reasons behind why her half-sisters were permitted to openly carry in a military setting. Sure, their primary role centered around combat, equipping them with arms was a logical choice. Yet, concealing this prowess was also their duty, to be guarded until the opportune moment, irrespective of the circumstances.

The array of excuses to justify their armed presence was vast, as were the strategies to prevent the secret from leaking or spreading. Yet, the simplicity of having the maids discreetly conceal their weapons under their uniforms, as was their usual practice, just seemed like the far more prudent choice. Even if it posed a slight disadvantage in the event of combat, but nothing they couldn't overcome. A divergence in priorities, one might argue. Servants emphasize the importance of concealment, whereas the maids prioritize both their duty and practical considerations.

Pointless complaints, nothing would change. Her half-sisters seemed destined to perpetually create chaos, leaving her sisters tirelessly engaged in the ceaseless task of cleaning after them. This established dynamic between the maids and servants had endured for as long as she knew, and it seemed destined to remain so into the far future. The maids would continue to revel in their unrestricted freedom, a liberty defined within the bounds of their duties. Leaving her, and in extension her sisters to contend with the inevitable headaches that would ensue.

Except in this instance, the throbbing ache in her head wasn't instigated by the maids but rather by her own, intensifying her frustrations. As she neared the entrance, guarded by the two maids in blue ribbons. She felt an air of indifference. Familiarity with her appearance granted her silent passage, a quiet acknowledgment that spared her the need for conversation. A small mercy she welcomed, for there was little desire in her to exchange words with them.

She entered the tent with a gentle lift of the entrance flap, immediately swallowed by the shroud of darkness. Her eyes raced to acclimate to the new lighting, provided only by the slender rays penetrating the small gap in the entrance's flap behind her, and a lone oil lamp illuminating a table before her. Seated at the table, a woman remained engrossed in her writing, seemingly indifferent to her presence.

"Violet," she addressed curtly, her eyes scanning the surrounding furniture. To her left, an adjacent table bore the weight of a disorganized assortment of reports, books, and documents, strewn across its surfaces. "It wouldn't harm you to brighten this place up on occasion. Engaging in this form of work under such dim lighting can't be favorable for your eyes."

"As I mentioned during your last visit I can see perfectly fine. If the lighting is an issue, that's your concern," Violet replied casually. Her voice, low and tired, persisted as she refused to look away from the book her quill pen diligently drew upon. "Why are you here, sister?"

"I am here regarding the matter of Emily."

Violet's hand came to an abrupt stop, delicately setting her quill pen on the table before she ascended slowly from her chair. The green ribbon, affixed to her collar, swayed gently in tandem. "I am aware of her current status. Have you found the cause?"

"For certain? No, just an abundance of speculations. I've arrived to apprise you of our current findings, or rather the lack thereof, given that this matter directly involves a sister of the maid staff. I assumed you'd be interested to know."

"Interested?" Violet snickered. "I demand to know. Not only as someone in charge of all the maids present but as one myself. Anything concerning my sisters I claim from you. Now, tell me, what have you found?"

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"This may disappoint, but regrettably not much. Emily remains missing, with no trace of her whereabouts. Our most reasonable assumption ties Lady Kolba to her disappearance, though with little confidence. Emily mentioned seeking our lady before she departed. Now, with our lady's return, Emily still remains absent."

"Have you questioned Lady Kolba about Emily's status?"

"We have. She refuses to speak, very telling for someone who has sworn the 3rd. Unfortunately, her actions do little to yield any additional information. We're birds on ground, being the sole infrastructure for intelligence. We lack the means, sources, and usual connections required for this kind of blind investigation."

Violet lapsed into a heavy silence, veiling her discontent. She leaned against the table, resisting the temptation to clasp her slender hands into fists. "I have to say, I am disappointed. Is this the extent of your findings, or is there more that you're withholding?"

"I regret to inform you that, aside from suspecting Lady Kolba's involvement, there is little else to share. The dispatched servants are still in search, but bear in mind, we find ourselves on a battlefield."

"And here I held you servants in higher regard. Is your entire tradition nothing more than a facade? Isn't intelligence and investigation the very essence of your role? And yet, this is the sum total of your findings?"

"I share only the unvarnished truth, Violet. I won't cloak it in deceit. While I empathize with your frustration, I implore you to grant us some time. This situation is somewhat more intricate than you may realize; we are navigating through numerous constraints. We've acknowledged our oversight in allowing Lady Kolba to slip away unnoticed, and we're committed to rectifying our mistake."

"You can rectify this by uncovering the fate of my sister," Violet voiced with severity. "Madam Kolba would not be pleased to have lost a linksight; Emily was beyond valuable. How certain are you that our lady is involved?"

"In all honesty, the only certitude lies in the lady's covert departure for reasons unknown, coupled with her steadfast silence. The variables are numerous. The lady might have arranged something or simply sought solace in the open air, our knowledge falls short. The notion of her plotting or, worse, played a hand in the disappearance of her own maid amid an encirclement seems preposterous, even fanciful I dare say. Neither I nor my sister can fathom a reason for her to engage in either. Our lady simply isn't inclined towards any irrational behavior. This is an unprecedented act by her, rendering any assumption premature. We remain uncertain whether any contact transpired between our lady and Emily in the first place. Speculation reigns, only further amplified by our unfavorable environment."

"I'm not interested in hearing excuses. This is your duty, not ours. I expected your presence with something substantial, not this..."

"We'll persist in our investigation but I implore your patience. Currently, our best avenue for leads lies within the numerous unexplained missing reports of soldiers that we'll need to sift through. Whatever triggered the disappearance of a linksight might have a potential ripple effect on others. We can only hope that such incidents were reported, and therein lies our prospect for discovering something of significance. We will do our job as required. I only request your acknowledgment of the challenges we face. Time is against us, and once the breakout begins, we'll be compelled to abandon our inquiry. I fear this search for the missing maid might prove fruitless."

"She isn't missing," Violet declared with unwavering certainty. "A maid doesn't simply vanish into thin air. I can say with confidence that if she hasn't returned by now, then she is only dead, whether inflicted by another or by her own."

"But she's a linksight? Surely, one who can wield aura wouldn't just succumb to death."

"And yet, we find ourselves in a battlefield where monsters rule. This isn't our territory, urbanscapes are. Here, knights reign supreme. And if we consider the Imperials mages, magic is an added factor despite its chances. Anything could have killed her, but the fact remains she is dead."

"How can you be so sure? We haven't even found her corpse yet."

"Her absence alone is proof enough. You servants always seem to forget how we conduct ourselves. Survival isn't our priority, duty is. If she isn't killed and hasn't returned, then it signifies failure. And self-termination is the only recourse for failure."

"That's madness. The house did not invest such time and money for a maid to end her life just because she couldn't find someone. It's a waste of resources. We can't produce maids on a whim, especially a linksight."

"I see you haven't worked with us often, sister. If you have an issue, address it with our house or my maid staff. I don't determine our conduct; I just adhere to orders. If opinions were allowed, I'd also vehemently disagree with such severe punishments." Violet paused, her dark brown eyes piercing with intensity. A subtle sigh escaped her lips, fleeting and weary. "Leave. Regardless of the circumstances, the cause of Emily's demise is crucial. Commit all your servants for the search. My maids will maintain an ever-vigilant watch over Lady Kolba. Even with the exclusion of Emily's death, we would still be committed to doing so. The lady merits this much for her unapproved venture."

The servant pressed her lips, grappling with her own frustrations. Never in her career had she faced a task so deprived of hope. Leads led nowhere, assumptions proved futile, and the constraints, whether social or procedural, were too constricting. She understood that resolving most inquiries often required more than just a few hours, with some stretching over months to even years. Except in this particular instance, a few was all she had before all her best chances at acquiring direct evidence vanished. As someone who deemed it her sole purpose to fulfill the role of an obedient and efficient servant, this undertaking left her with a profound sense of worthlessness. She offered a subtle bow before gracefully turning to take her leave.

"Eleanor," Violet called.

Eleanor paused just before the entrance, making no effort to turn back around. "What is it?"

"Your ribbon… it's green. When did you earn it?"

Eleanor couldn't help but smile, if only faintly. "Yesterday."

"I see... Congratulations, if a little late. I am sorry if this is sudden, I couldn't find the right time to express it. As you know, the future is uncertain, and I did not wish to wait further."

"Sudden but welcomed sister. I greatly appreciate your wishes. I'll be leaving now if there is nothing else. My apologies for the waste of time, perhaps I should've come with something more worthwhile. We will do our utmost to find your dear sister, Violet, and discover the cause of this mess."

"The cause is your negligence," Violet smiled. "Not something I ever thought I'd have to say when referring to the performance of servants. But I'd also like to admit that Lady Kolba's good behavior fooled us too. Go. Let us hope we meet again under better circumstances."

"For the Kolba," Eleanor declared.

"For our lord and master."