Diffraction

Chapter Three: Things that Matter

First Purity above all else, unwavering moral will.

Wood practice swords cracked and shouts echoed from the training field of Northridge. A contingent of fighters and Arcanists arrived earlier in the week on their way to Glacierift. Though the faces in each group seemed either older or younger than they ought to be, the townsfolk seized a rare opportunity. Young men who often trained in the arts of combat with their fathers, uncles, or older brothers now stood against true soldiers of Aulivar. Several women practiced alongside the men.

Sweat beaded on foreheads and glistened under the noonday sun. Gentle breezes swept away the odor of exertion. Three teens wearing the banner of Aulivar took turns swatting a portly youth with the thick wood shafts. Their laugher carried to the other side of the field, where a father and daughter squared off in mock combat, decked in padded armor.

"Been a few months since your friend lost her mother," Camden said. He swung with his quarterstaff. It made a sharp clack as it bounced off Josephine's upraised shield.

"Quit trying to distract me," Josephine said. "And Lyllithe's not my friend." She sprung into the air over the sweeping arc of Camden's staff. Then she came down into a spin, wooden hammer extended.

"She ought to be." He jabbed at her wrist. She pulled back and he advanced with a series of quick thrusts. "She needs a friend more than most." A smirk cracked his firm demeanor. "You aren't giving as much ground as before."

Josephine dodged left. "She's got a Mark, she's one of the Devoted. What does she need me for?" Then she lunged with an overhead strike.

Camden spun out of the way, quarterstaff flying toward Josephine's back.

She let her momentum carry her into a tuck-and-roll underneath his strikes.

"She has a double Gracemark," Camden said, "not the typical Gracebrands the Abbey gives." He paused, staff at the ready. "They don't treat her like one of their own. Haven't you noticed?"

Maybe I've got him distracted. Josephine lowered her hammer and planned her next strike. Keep him talking. "I don't pay much attention to how the Abbey does their business."

Camden tipped his staff up. "It's not about the Abbey, Jo. A Soulforged needs to pay attention to the weak, the downtrodden, the outcasts." He pointed a finger. "You're to be strong, yes. Not for yourself, but for them."

She sprang into motion. Her hammer cut low under the point of Camden's staff. He shifted back to dodge as she hoped. She swung her left arm, shield edge out. He brought his staff up to counter the attack. The edge of the shield smashed into the staff, and it shuddered in Camden's hand. His grip held firm. He swept the staff behind Josephine's leg. Wood thudded against padding, threatening to take Josephine down. She stumbled and jumped back to regain footing, only to find his staff point thrusting into her chest. Camden's strike glanced off her armor, but it tipped her off-balance. She hit the earth hard and lay there gasping.

Camden stood over her, his staff pointed down at her face. "Do you yield?"

"Never."

"Good." He laughed and extended a hand, helping her to her feet. "Then you're acting like a Soulforged. Five years Marked, you should know something by now."

Josephine unbuckled her shield and turned toward the weapon racks. I am one of the Soulforged, father. Sealed with a Gracebrand of Justice on my thirteenth Markday. She glanced at the silvery metal etched on the back of her right hand as if for proof. A single vertical line with two downward arms extended, the symbol sparkled in the sun.  I am Justice reaching out to bring Order to the world.