All it took for Lissa to fall from her bed was a tug. She landed in a heap next to it. Her groggy sleep-addled mind could only just start to realize what had happened. The fleeting remnants of her dream left her mind, but one piece remained Red eyes glowing as if the fires of the hells were reflected in them. Shaking her head, she stood, her blankets and sheets making any effort difficult. Casting off the suffocating bindings, she looked around for whoever had pulled her out of bed. To her left, she found Saida, who, with cat-like grace, quietly walked towards the door. The light streaming through the curtains was a testament to how late she had slept in.

“Be glad it was me and not the twins,” she said nonchalantly, closing the door behind her to give Lissa some privacy to dress. Sighing, she bent over and picked up the discarded bedding, and set about the morning ritual which had been drilled into her. First came redressing her bed. With practiced ease, the sheet was tucked, taut, and made free of wrinkles. Next, came the quilt a gift from her mother when she was officially confirmed as a royal emissary. Lissa held it tight for a moment. “Thank you for making this mom,” she whispered into the quilt, thinking that maybe her mother could hear her thanks. At night if she were having trouble sleeping, she would imagine her mother tucking her into bed and giving her a quick kiss goodnight.

The pillows that had fallen with her were placed in their appropriate positions near the headboard. While she was at it, she fluffed them a bit after noticing that they were starting to look a little flat. “Oh damn it,” Lissa swore while fluffing the last pillow she saw her horns had torn a small hole in the casing. “I will have to sew that later.” Finally, with everything in place, she quickly re-inspected it, finding nothing out of place, she turned to the empty room.

All of the private rooms in the barracks could be decorated; however, the occupant wished. She found that for the moment having the barest necessities suited her needs fine. A small writing desk in the corner, along with a well-stocked bookshelf with topics ranging from the exploits of legendary figures to an encyclopedia on the various ways Aether could be measured and detected. Her wardrobe was a simple wooden creation with the only thing to distinguish it was her gold inlaid initials on both doors, CN. She didn’t dislike her full name Calista Narto, outside of official functions, or while being scolded by her family, everyone just called her Lissa.

The armor rack stood stoically by the door; her weapons hung neatly from the arms on the frame, ready to be drawn at a moment's notice. The tabard hung next to it hosted the imperial heraldry, a silver crown with five inlaid gems motes of sunlight shining onto the silver thread. The mark of her rank hung with a place of pride next to the armor and tabard, a simple maroon cloak with violet trim. The summer variant was light and let the air through while it kept the direct heat of the sun from you. The winter variant was thick, with a collar of fur it hung close to your body to keep the warmth close to you while providing a bulwark against the biting cold winter wind.

She discarded her nightclothes, adding them neatly to the wash bin for the maids and butlers to wash, a small blessing of her official station. Lissa shivered as a slight breeze from the curtained window, touched her maroon skin. She walked quickly into her bathroom and turned the handle for the shower, a recent but much-needed addition to the emissary barracks. As cold and then lukewarm water flowed from a spout near the ceiling, her mind wandering back to her dream. As she tried to concentrate, her brow furrowing from the effort, the only thing that came to her was the eyes. The gaze of those twin infernos burned through her and into her very soul. Even with the water cooling her, the memory of the heat was painful.

With nothing else coming to her, she discarded the thought as the tail ends of some sort of nightmare. She washed quickly, careful while washing her silver hair as the sharp tips of her horns could cut or puncture her skin. As soon as the water ran clear, she stopped the shower and stepped out her tail, snaking its way to the pile of towels snatching one from the top. Drying herself, she went about the process of dressing herself for duty. Walking to her wardrobe, she opened the door. She quickly selected undergarments, not caring if they matched as no one should be seeing them.

With them on, she selected the standard warm weather apparel for her uniform. A light but well fitted brown short-sleeved shirt, it was thick enough to prevent the straps and buckles of her armor from rubbing where they lay on her raw. She cared little for the socks she would need to wear, again no one should see them under her uniform. Once that was done, she selected her trousers, today she chose to wear the semi-fitted black pair with the extra pockets. She had a feeling they may come in handy; she was unsure what made her feel that way, but her instincts were usually right.

She grabbed one of the well-polished pairs of boots she wore on duty and slipped them on easy, the leather no longer hard and constricting. Lissa tied them tightly, knowing they would loosen soon enough to be comfortable with all of the walking. She then tucked in her shirt and turned now to the armor, she donned the breastplate quickly and adjusted the straps so that it was snug and would not rattle with movement. Lissa then put on her bracers and arm guards, moving her arms a few times and adjusting as necessary to make sure nothing was hindered. She slid on her belt quickly enough, the already prepared pouches filled with medicinal vials, powders, cuffs, and flare wands resting comfortably on her hips.

The last part of her attire she loathed putting on was the greaves. To her frustration, she never was able to get them comfortable until at least an hour after wearing them. The straps and buckles holding them in place always slid easily on the lower portion of her calf due to the well-maintained boots. Today was an exception, it only took her two adjustments to get them fitted well enough. That small victory making her day slightly better, considering the rude awakening she received. Carefully she took the tabard and slid it over her head and the breastplate. She knew it would hide any blemishes with the breastplate, but if an inspection occurred, the first thing they would check was underneath it. She did not want to feel the shame of being singled out on that fact and forced to lap with the cadets and aspirants.

She donned her cloak with slow reverence, carefully slipping it over her back and putting the clasps in their places on the shoulder straps of the breastplate. Once that was done, she grabbed her weapons, the arming sword slipping into its place at her side. The blade was light and honed to perfection by both magical and mundane means. The well-worn leather grip perfectly contoured to her hand. With the training, she received the weapon was as much a part of her as she was of it. Next was her Focus, the ebony wood was wrapped in smooth and soft deer leather. The leather dotted with small nails holding it in place and on each end were small clusters of rubies spaced apart with slivers of silver. Very rarely were any two the same due to their nature.

Foci were nearly unbreakable as their magically fortified nature allowed them to withstand the potentially powerful flow of Aether that was focused through them. She ran her hand along its length, quickly attuning herself to it, the rubies glowed brightly for a moment and then dimmed. She gasped for air for a few moments, attunement always stole her breath for a few moments. “I will never get used to that,” Lissa whispered while she took deep breaths to steady herself.

Normally attuning to a Focus was a simple matter of pushing a minuscule amount of personal Aether into it. Her Focus was a rare case though, it needed a much more significant amount to activate due to her nature as a Blooded. It afforded her a much higher natural Aetheric flow, along with being able to perceive its flow more intuitively. Consequently, that also forced any Foci that she used to have higher tolerances and a steeper attunement price.

She did not need to be reminded that magic without a focus was dangerous. That danger varied from person to person, as well as what they were attempting to accomplish. You could collapse from exhaustion, burn out limbs and other body parts rendering them useless. Very rarely, when trying to do unfocused magic, you would take in too much Aether, which accomplished the given task, but in the process, turn you to ash. Rumors and tales say that unfocused magic is what starts and started the “Gloom.”

Lissa shuddered at the thought of it. She had never seen the ailment first had but studied it to know the signs, symptoms, and effects that it had on someone. First, it sent whoever contracted it into a deep depression, isolating them from the outside world while causing an unnatural aversion to physical contact. Second, after an “incubation” period ranging from a single day to a month, the afflicted became highly contagious. The third was the reversal of the depression, causing the afflicted to grow manic, wanting to do everything with incredible mood shifts causing them to lash out.

The fourth was that they performed magic unconsciously without a focus taking and giving aether to others, which spread the “disease” to all those around them. The Fifth and final stage had one of two outcomes, the gloom robbed you of all Aether, rendering you into what is known as a “hollow.” Hollows are driven almost always mad with an all-consuming hunger for Aether. Their mere touch drains Aether from any living being, plant, or animal. With continued contact, they consume it completely, turning their victim to a dead thrall. They only exist to feed their progenitors, bringing fresh offerings that they may devour.

Only those with an immense reservoir of Aether, incredible constitutions, or cursed by the gods survived all five stages. Most succumbed to a slow and painful death from the second stage onwards, killing them slowly as it drained their Aether. Regardless of phase, becoming afflicted fundamentally changed how Aether interacted with the body.

Any guard detachment from the smallest village to the most significant cities had at least one means of detection. Ranging from someone with the natural talent to see the ebb and flow of Aether in larger villages and towns to “Owls.” Magical constructs that perched on buildings and circled above cities observing the Aether of residents. A reliable way to find those afflicted by the “Gloom” was to see the flow of Aether around them. Typically Aether came into and then out of someone like their breath or the tides. The “Gloom” either changed it to something sharp and jagged that lashed out with no discernible pattern or reason. Or the color of Aether, typically white like the clouds or snow, to a blood-red.

When one was detected, it would return to its home, usually the closest guard post, and direct them to the afflicted. Once afflicted with the “Gloom,” it is a death sentence as no known cure has been found. Lissa did not want to think of how that sentence was carried out and then quickly moved on.

Foci were made to circumvent the potentially harmful side effects of magical use. They also allowed the precise application and storage of magic. The tallest and most elaborate Foci she knew of were the aptly named Aetheric Spires in the floating capital of the Dominion, Volamire. If a focus were ever broken, which took an incredible feat of strength or power, it would release a tremendous Aetheric backlash. Usually killing or at least severely injuring the wielder and those around them.

Finally catching her breath, she put the Focus in its sheath, she then took and placed in its appointed location on her right hip within easy reach of her left hand. Her daggers were set in pairs on her left and right side of her belt. With the last of her equipment in its proper place, she did one final inspection and left her room not to return until well after dusk her duties permitting.

In the hall, she saw the two dozen other female Emissaries milling about some returning from their rotations exhausted eating their meals languidly in the lounge. Others were reading books by the sunlight either up early enough to have some relaxation or doing so before heading to bed. Lissa saw Saida with a group of four other emissaries sitting at one of the larger tables playing cards. What game they were playing, she wasn’t sure but based on the fact Saida had an impressive pile of what looked like candies in front of her. Obviously, she was winning.

Saida turned at hearing a door open and then shut wondering at who it may be. She smiled when she saw it was Lissa, “Well ladies, it was fun, but duty calls” she placed down her cards, causing the table to groan and grumble while the losers pushed their candies towards Saida. She scooped them up quickly, thankfully it wasn’t a tremendous amount roughly two or three dozen candies in total. Once everything was secure, she walked towards the rooms, to deposit her 'winnings' safely in her locked room. Lissa quickly inspected Saida, as she already knew Saida was doing to her to make sure everything was alright.

She looked over the half-elf, the sunset orange hair which was neatly fitted into a ponytail which reached the base of her neck. Saida’s pursed lips along with fact her blue eyes were locked onto something signaled to Lissa that something wasn’t right. After a moment, she realized her hair was still down and cursed under her breathe. She knew Saida would get something for her to put it up while she was in her room, so she continued the inspection. Saida’s rounded but slightly longer ears bore simple silver hoop earrings two on the left ear and one on the right.

Saida had once told her that the earrings typically signified their place in her family were actually a token memorial she carried with her. Both of her brothers and her mother had died from the Gloom while she was very young. That is all she would tell anyone, the only other person who knew the full extent was Darvick, and he wouldn’t say a word. She then glanced towards the same maroon with violet trimmed cloak flowing behind her, the clasps polished along with the intermittently visible breastplate.

Lissa could not find a single fault as she continued her inspection, buckles were tight. Nothing that shouldn’t move made any motion, bracers, and greaves had a mirror-like finish. She shook her head, Saida, as always was a perfectionist, and nothing could ruin her perfect inspection streak that had started since she was an aspirant.

Saida finally passed Lissa and started to open her mouth to speak, “I know, please find something for me to put my hair up.” Lissa had cut her off, and she could have sworn she heard a soft chuckle come from her as she walked out of view behind her. “Lissa, you’re awake!” The moment of calm silence was broken by the twins Mera and Mela, who she could hear sprinting down the hall. Their footsteps thundered across the floor like the stampede of horses. How these two halflings could make that much noise, she could not understand.

She turned quickly and then realized why they yelled and were sprinting. They needed her help. Their armor was eschewed, dull, and dirtied, which meant they hadn’t bothered to clean it from their shift yesterday afternoon. Both heads of hair were an unruly mess, knotted, unwashed, and unkempt. The cloaks they carried were caked with mud, how that had happened when the last rain was days ago, she could not even fathom. Mera’s blue left and purple right were wide and darting to and fro across the room looking for something. Mela, who was Mera’s mirror opposite in eyes, said, “There!” as they raced passed Lissa, who followed them with curiosity, her eyes tracing their path ahead. They were heading towards the card table, the occupants blissfully unaware that they were about to lose more than just that hand.

Sighing Lissa followed after Mera and Mela, she and averted her eyes, not wishing to see the ensuing carnage. Shouts of surprise, anger, outrage, and much cursing ensued as she heard bodies hitting the floor along with what sounded like the table was being completely upturned. Finally, looking up, Lissa rolled her eyes; Mera and Mela, with all the grace of a stampeding herd of animals, had thrown three of their fellows from their seats. They lay on the ground nursing potential bruises across their arms and legs. One had been quick or lucky enough to shoot out of her chair and away from them to at least have cards still in her hand. The upturning of the card table had scattered candies and cards across that half of the lounge room.

Almost all other emissaries, at least those who weren't already asleep, watched all of this happen in silent horror. A few, though, were holding back laughter, and a pair who were positioned by the door laughed with wild abandon clutching their sides. Lissa found an upright seat behind them both and went to work, they produced the necessary tools needed to alleviate the situation. First, she tamed the jungle that was their hair, she fought with the wild knots some evaded her weapon. Starting from the edges working inwards, she entered an almost trance-like state, using all of her skill, guile, and strength to complete her work.

Their hair tamed. Lissa went to work on the sorry state of their clothing and equipment. She tore the Focus from its sheath and channeled through it. Carefully Lissa eliminated the dirt, grime, and mud from their cloaks once they were in an acceptable state. She then went to work on their armor. This task required most of her attention. The metal was fortified magically to make it more durable and lighten the weight. As a side-effect, it also made it resistant to cleaning with magic.

Lissa had plenty of experience, as this was not the first time. “How many more times must I do this?” she thought while keeping most of her attention on cleaning and polishing the armor. It requires intense concentration to walk the fine line between damaging the armor and cleaning it. To much Aether, being focused on the material, was liable to destroy the enchantments put on it.

Many aspirants and cadets who were in a rush to clean and polish had inadvertently damaged it. Causing them to pour more energy into repairing it, which starts a spiral downwards. Too little and the power would be reflected by the armor back onto the user, usually bruising or making many shallow cuts on any exposed flesh it touched.

After what felt like hours she was finished, she let the tension from her shoulders, back, arms, and hands while putting her Focus back into place. She then noticed that Mera and Mela’s hair were in neat buns and that her hair had been put into a ponytail as well.

“Thank you for your help Saida,” Lissa said while sighing she felt her stomach grumble in protest and realized she hadn’t even eaten yet. “You are welcome, Lissa. Once I heard them shout, I knew what would happen,” Saida replied while her hand went in front of Lissa’s face. The aroma coming from it was heavenly and made her salivate. “What is it?” She replied while gingerly taking what she saw now was some kind of pastry. “Honestly, I don’t know what it is called, but I know that it is delicious,” Saida replied while taking a bit from hers. “It has potatoes, meat, veggies, and I think there might be cheese in it as well.”

Lissa bit into her mystery pastry and let out a moan. It was delicious. The outside was crisp and crunchy. The inner portion was soft and practically melted in the mouth. She could taste the salted meat mixing with the sweet onions and carrots. As she pulled it from her mouth, she saw small strings of cheese follow it. Lissa ate, and she noticed the cheese had a smoky flavor; the texture was smooth in contrast to the rough chunks of meat and vegetables.

She closed her eyes while eating quickly, savoring every bite. It had felt like hours since she had initially awoken even though at most, it had been thirty minutes. More than enough time for them to catch up to Almios, Garza, Darvick, and report for their duties. Opening her eyes, she stood and saw Mera and Mela, both were profusely apologizing to the victims of their haste. “I am so sorry, let me help,” they repeated three times over while helping the others up from the floor, resetting the table, chairs, and picking up the cards and candy.

Saida was patiently waiting by the door for everyone to finish eating, and clean up. The shared lounge finally returned to its normal state of peace and quiet, with the occasional burst of noise from the card table either in elation or in frustration. She held the door open for all of them and was the last one out of the barracks.