Diffraction

Chapter Nine: Soulforged

From Markday until Final Dawn and every day between,

Indignation burned within Josephine, hotter than all the fires spreading throughout Northridge. She spun low under a bandit's sword and smashed her hammer into his calf. Bone crunched. He fell screaming, and Josephine let a rush of satisfaction wash over her.

His blade claimed Alain's life. He deserves worse. Why should I not be pleased when Justice is served?

There was no time for delight. Another pair of bandits pushed back the town's defenders near the Folly, where many of the women and children sought refuge. Protect the innocent, Jo. Her father's command echoed in her mind. He'd hammered at the Kem before dashing out the gate, to draw its attention away from the town.

Not sure how long he can keep up with that beast. Josephine stared into the darkness of the woods, listening for any sign of Camden. I need to go find him and help. But I can't abandon the weak. She turned back to the fight, facing Kal's men.

One of Northridge's wounded defenders crawled away, clutching a bloody leg.

A bandit jammed a spear through his chest and pinned him to the ground. The man cried out and struggled to free himself, and the bandit laughed.

Josephine stepped back to avoid a sweeping blade. She lashed out with her shield and heard a grunt as it crashed into another enemy's face. She swung her hammer through an overhead arc and battered the helmet on the other side of her shield.

Two of the bandits moved in a paired formation, disabling defenders with swift and fatal strikes. Several men and a woman writhed and groaned in their wake, bleeding out into the dirt on the street.

Josephine felt a tingle from her Gracebrand and invoked the soul of Justice with a thought—Show me what should be.

A vision snapped into focus. These men once wore the crisp uniform of the Militia, standing post on the walls of Aulivar... marching north with a Contingent headed for Glacierift...

She gasped. Glimpses never lied, though they could be misinterpreted. There's no mistaking the meaning of this one. These men are military-trained. They know better.

Josephine called out to them, "What of your vows, soldiers?" She picked her way around bodies and approached. "A true Lightsworn of Aulivar would rather die than desert his brethren or betray his oaths." Though they hardly deserve that title anymore.

The one on the left had a nose like a pig snout. He sneered at Josephine and beckoned her with his sword.

The bandit on the right turned toward her. Flames on nearby homes revealed a long scar down the man's cheek, obscured by his disheveled black hair. "I seen enough do just that, little Soulforged," he said. His eyes showed no pleasure.

Josephine raised her shield and closed into melee range. A mental image of a narrow mountain path formed in Josephine's mind, the trigger she'd learned to invoke the mindset of Justice. With that, her Gracebrand could show her the inclination of both men toward right or wrong. No need to Peer in this case. It's pretty obvious.

She noted the one she called Scar stood calm facing an oncoming Soulforged. No, I won't give him credit, even for that.

"The lads I marched with," Scar said, "their eyes all alight with hope of glory? They died in frozen wastes, for nothing but a vow." He shrugged. "Thought it best not to join them."

"Oh, you won't," Josephine said. "Deserters and traitors never reach His Rest. That's reserved for those with honor intact."

Pigsnout laughed and spat, sword and dagger readied.