Ten corpses. A large family, traveling for a reason that would remain hidden in their now silent voices. The scene sprawled before them told about as little as the mutilated victims strung about, though it did not take a scholar to discover the motive behind such an attack.

  Emerii grimaced, but she held her gaze firm. That was what the poor souls deserved, a witness to the atrocity that befell them. Kicked-up snow mixed with blood and viscera traced the scene, the footprints slowly being covered by the new snow. There was a trail that led off to the left where the attackers had departed. Based on the amount of feet it was a great number of bandits.

  “We should bury them,” Arty said. The only other sound that pierced the white silence was the crackle of the burning wagon.

  “There are more important matters that take precedence,” Emerii replied, her words colder than the winter air.

  “What?” He snapped. “Making it to Liofeld?”

  “Think Arty. The ground is too cold and covered in snow. How long would it take to try and bury them? It would be a waste of time. There is only one thing we can do for them.”

  Arty still seemed exasperated, but she did not say anything else, instead letting those words simmer. Finally, realization blossomed with a smirk on his face.

  She returned that grim smile. “Someone has to stop those bastards and they were kind enough to leave us an invitation to their sickening victory party.” She nodded to the tracks they had carelessly left behind. A winter hawk flew overhead causing Emerii’s smile to grow wider.

  Before chasing their prey Ary turned around to eye the massacre one last time. “I suppose a white grave will do them fine for now.” He pulled his sword out and thrust it into the ground then kneeled. “I promise vengeance for you.”

  Emerii was already sprinting through the snow, a cold sweat on her neck. For her, the putrid sensation that came with summoning her deity always brought an upset stomach, but she locked that feeling away, focusing her thoughts on what truly mattered.

  Clear orbs fell in front of her. Those same orbs spilled from the joints in her right hand, no, cascaded in a wave of water made by countless small orbs. Her guardian deity was ephemeral as always, exactly like all the other summoned deities she could see, a misty illusion that her mind could barely comprehend, a mirage on the edge of existence. She was not as amazing as Idwyn or Loo, she could only see a deity once it had been summoned, and even then there was a vagueness about their forms.

  Emerii brought her left hand up to cover her left eye, then reached her right hand toward the sky. It was still exuding the presence of her deity. Sight was not needed for her target, but visualization did help. The orbs stayed on her hand, they did not shoot towards her target or any of the like; just by appearing her ability was possible.

  From her left eye, she could see the vast forest that nature had painted white. The eye of the hunter, seeking prey in its preferred season. It did not know she was sharing its eye, nor could she control where its gaze fell, she had to simply wait to gather the information she desired.

  After the link was established the distance she could hold was increased drastically, so she was not worried the hawk would fly too far and render her ability useless.

  “Well?” Arty asked as they continued to trudge through the snow.

  “It appears they have made camp. Sorry, this winter hawk is more focused on a hare at the moment,” Emerii sighed, continuing to wait patiently. From the hawk’s view, there was a single wisp of smoke, not viewable from the ground where she and Arty were. Off the roads meant it was not another attacked caravan but a cook fire that would also provide warmth homeless bandits . The thin gray wisp snaked through the air, the only beacon guiding them through the storm. Finally, she said, “I have the lay of the land now. We should arrive by nightfall.”

  “With only us that makes it the perfect time to strike.”

  She released her deity and nodded, determination firming her features.

  The heavens had ceased the entombment of their world, but the dark clouds persisted overhead casting a lightless night. Traversing pathless wilderness was no easy task, especially in winter and with no source of illumination. When they still retained vision traveling the path packed down by the bandits had been a blessing; their journey would have become more arduous without that assistance. They could thank them for that at least, while they were slicing into them.

  They had known better than to ignite a torch, such a thing would only bring their prey down upon them, hunters transformed into hunted. Still, the temptation persisted. If not for the deft use of her deity earlier they would be lost, but by skill and luck they had found their way. Ahead was the only faint light in the gloom, their guiding star. Laughter and merrymaking could be heard.

  As well as screams.

  Emerii held Arty back. In a whisper, she said, “What if they have a sentry? It’s only us, we have to plan effectively.”

  “Hear that? They’re too busy to care about watching their surroundings.”

  “Still, we need to be efficient to reduce the risk of the victims getting hurt.”

  “They’re already being hurt!” Arty growled. "Worse, they're being treated and used as objects. Their honor is being trampled.”

  “Calmness, Arty. You do no good as you are now. We will prevent them from hurting anyone else, but we have to take them intelligently, lest we let some escape or are overcome by their numbers.”

  She could not see him in the darkness, but his form shrunk after a few moments, the heavy breathing becoming more stable.

  “Sorry Emerii, you’re right. But we must hurry, so we can stop them, so the victims can taste sweet vengeance.”

  Sneaking closer to the encampment, the voices and words became more distinct, but they were still too far too far away. However, they were the perfect distance for Emerii. Cold sweat broke on the back of her neck. She closed both her eyes, questing outward with her deity. There were many eyes she could share and based on feeling she picked the set most separated from the others.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  She clenched her jaw to prevent a welling scream from escaping. In a situation like this, she had to stay calm to anchor Arty.

  The vision of the rogue she was sharing displayed an atrocious scene, men atop women who were struggling while other bandits were brutalizing what appeared to be a male slave. She took all of this in, shoving down her discontent as she coldly took note of everything.

  “Fifteen bandits,” She said to Arty. After a few moments she continued, “I spot basic swords and spears, but there are three crossbows.”

  Arty clicked his tongue. “Those crossbows will be an issue. Do any bandits seem overly skilled?”

  “It is difficult to tell through another’s eyes, but we will approach as if all of them are trained soldiers. I’ll circle around and we can attack from two sides.” Before she did she stopped sharing vision with the bandit and began using their ears. The only things she heard were of no importance and only further exasperated her.

  Arty clasped her shoulder. “Be careful, and let us aim for the crossbowmen first.”

  She touched his hand, thankful for the support. “I’ll know exactly when you begin the assault, but give me time to get into position. I’ll follow your lead.”

  Emerii began carving her path. Legs sunk deep into the glue, threatening entrapment. Recalling the landscape in her mind she maneuvered using the fire to judge her distance. The noise emanating from the bandits covered her every sound, but she still periodically summoned her deity to make sure her presence remained concealed.

  The sky had abandoned them, God refusing to witness the sins of those he created. The only witnesses to the foul deeds would be themselves and their deities.

  As she positioned herself, she shared an eye with Arty as he was doing the same on the opposite side, reading to strike. He had done a good job controlling himself. If they had been separate there was a strong likelyhood that either of them would have charged in alone. The things they are doing, I can understand why Arty desires vengeance so fiercely. I cannot allow it to continue either. For my sanity at the very least. She cleared her mind one last time.

  Composure.

  Emerii sat stealthily at the edge of the camp, longsword drawn and waiting. The bandits were showing no sign of slowing down their night of evil, which was perfect for the plan of attack. All she would do now was wait for Arty to begin the ambush.

  He began to move.

  They assaulted the camp at the same time, sprinting into the confused men with steel bared. The bandits were too slow to react. She sprinted for the first crossbowman and sunk her blade into him before he knew what was occurring. A glance confirmed Arty had killed the second.

  Before she could round on the third she noticed two bandits who were at the ready and had prepared themselves for the battle. She chose to engage those. The third crossbow user was around those two. She passed Arty who was making quick work of those caught unaware, slaughtering the rapists in a frenzy even while they still committed the heinous act.

  Arty had summoned his deity, the mad mass undulating as it clung to him. Contrary to his usual appearance of a golden grizzly cub, the black spikes around him appeared more akin to black hairs, creating a striking contrast. He was a roiling black storm, savage as he dispatched his foes.

  “Who the hell ar-” One of the bandits tried saying something as he stepped to Emerii, but she cut him down immediately. The words of beasts were not to be heeded.

  She finally engaged the most threatening of the bunch, the two men who were certainly deserters of some kind. Lawless men with no honor or homes to fight for, only living for their base desires. The crossbowman by them would be an issue, but as long as she was engaged and moving the man would not have an easy shot. Arty also used the other bandits to block the line of sight.

  Emerii stepped into the two deserters with no words, the two replying only with raised weapons and battle cries. The one with the short sword met her dancing blade. On the back of the man was a gangly inhuman deity, the face vaguely resembling an ape. He was using some kind of ability, but unfortunately, the appearance of a deity did not reveal what said ability was. However, she could see the joints it appeared in, which could give a clue as to what effect it was creating.

  The person she was battling was far too dexterous, blocking and attacking from angles which should have been impossible. So his was an internal governing deity, one that granted precision and dexterity like the common deities of the Eddgaarites. This person was obviously not a Citizen, as he lacked those distinctive features. There was a simple way to stop the application of his deity.

  She battered down with all her strength, forcing him back. Her advantage was so pressing she found an opening to make the final deadly strike against the foe.

  When she pressed her blade forward a whip shot out from the side and she was forced to pivot and block, then the deserter with the short sword attacked wildly, pushing her back.

  That was when she saw that it was not a whip, but the spear or the other deserter. It was not a trick of the eye, it had genuinely struck out like a whip. An ethereal smoke poured from the man’s back and palm, coating the spear in his deity.

  An external governing deity, a guardian that left its touch on the outside world, the same kind as her own.

  The spearman would always cover for the short sword wielder, she knew to take stock of her options before engaging once again. This was a duo that had seen countless battles together. It would be difficult to tear them apart.

  They were being defensive, but that gave her an idea.

  Emerii smirked, then closed one eye as a cold sweat broke out on her neck.

  She created some distance and the duo allowed her, as they did not desire to chase her into a trap or give her the benefit of her own preferred battle scenario. She could see through the eye of the person she was sharing it with and that knowledge allowed her to put her back to that person.

  At that angle, it was perfect.

  She opened her closed eye and began sharing the feeling of that person’s right hand. Before the sound wrung out she could feel the clunk of the trigger being pulled and Emerii dodged to the left. It was too late for the crossbowman to course correct, too late for the spearman to dodge or block.

  The steel bolt pierced through the cheap leather armor of the spearman. The bandit fell dead.

  The shock on the faces of those three was replaced by horror as she rushed towards the crossbowman before he could reload.

  The short sword deserter cursed and chased after her, but that was the plan. She turned back in a dance, and with brutal strength and precision chopped him down. Continuing the flow of the dance she lunged for the bandit with the crossbow, taking him down in one fell strike as well.

  The poor fool had thought to secure victory by slipping a bolt in her back but instead had cost them their lives, surrendering the battle by his own hands.

  Emerii brought her sword to the ready to fight any other opponent, but instead acted as witness to the final bandit being run through by Arty’s righteous sword.

  Their eyes met. Arty let out the roar of the golden grizzly, claiming victory. Someone had too. She could not, this left very little satisfaction for her, the only solace she took was knowing that they had prevented them from harming anyone else.

  The whimpers of the victims could be heard in the silence after the battle. They would have to deal with that. It would be sometime before they arrived in Liofeld.

  Idwyn would not be pleased.