One day before the Moon Goddess Festival began, Garron quietly completed his preparations for leaving Ashfang Village, as while the majority of the Ashfang Village seemed to be preoccupied with festival preparations, he remained locked inside his temporary residence, focused on a very different task.
The small house now looked noticeably different from how it had only a few weeks ago, as nearly every spare corner now contained supplies that had been gathered gradually over time, with nothing appearing particularly suspicious when viewed individually, yet together forming the foundation for a journey that would take dozens of children far beyond Frost Valley.
As he moved through the room, Garron methodically sorted those supplies into separate bundles, tightening ropes around blankets, checking water skins for leaks, and weighing sacks of preserved food in his hands before deciding whether they were light enough for children to carry over long distances, because although he intended to leave Ashfang in a hurry once the conflict began, he had no intention of travelling unprepared.
Food occupied the largest portion of the room by far, as dried meat, smoked fish, preserved roots, and hardened travel bread had slowly accumulated throughout the previous weeks whenever opportunities to acquire them arose, while several bundles of medicinal herbs sat nearby alongside spare winter clothing that would become necessary once they moved deeper into Imperial territory.
The journey itself did not concern him particularly, however what did, were the children.
Because while trained soldiers could march for days with minimal supplies, the recruits he intended to take south remained children first and Ascendants second, meaning that exhaustion, hunger, and exposure to extreme cold could become genuine threats if he failed to prepare properly.
However, just as he finished bundling up the last bag of supplies, a knock on his door caught him off-guard.
*Knock*
*Knock*
The sound immediately made Garron reach for his sword, as he positioned himself slightly off-center from the doorway while allowing his hand to settle comfortably around the weapon’s grip.
"Who is it?" Garron called out, as his voice remained calm despite the caution visible in his posture.
"It’s Chief Torak. Open up."
The familiar voice answered from the other side, as immediately, Garron let out a long breath and relaxed his grip on the sword.
’I hope you’re not intelligent enough to put one and one together, or else, I might have to kill you tonight.’
Garron thought, as after taking one final glance around the room, he finally crossed the distance toward the entrance and pulled the door open.
*Creak*
The door creaked slightly while opening, as the moment it did, Torak stepped in without waiting for an invitation, as he settled himself in the same chair that he sat in whenever he visited Garron.
Meanwhile, Garron calmly returned to his own seat opposite him.
For a while, neither man spoke, as Torak simply sat there surveying the room while his eyes drifted across the numerous bundles, sacks, blankets, water skins, and supply packs stacked throughout the residence until eventually he raised one eyebrow slightly.
"What’s all this?" Torak asked, as he gestured vaguely toward the surrounding supplies.
"You planning to start feeding the recruits yourself now?"
He followed up, as Garron traced the chief’s gaze before casually shrugging his shoulders.
"Most of them don’t get enough meat at home so I’m planning to distribute a bundle to the most underfed kids."
Garron replied, as though the answer were completely ordinary.
"The difference becomes obvious once you start training them properly. Their bodies aren’t growing as quickly as they should, and if I want to maximize the value of the recruits I’m sending south, I need them healthy."
He explained, as Torak grunted in acknowledgement.
"Still feels like a waste."
The chief muttered while shaking his head.
"Good meat being fed to little bastards and slave children. A few years ago I’d have thought you were insane."
His gaze briefly drifted toward one of the preserved food bundles.
"You could’ve made decent money selling all this at the market."
Torak remarked, as Garron merely offered another shrug.
"Healthy recruits make more money than dried meat."
He answered simply, as that explanation appeared sufficient for Torak, as the chief nodded once before abandoning the subject entirely.
Meanwhile, Garron continued watching him patiently, because if the chief showed even the slightest amount of suspicion regarding his true intentions, Garron had already decided on killing him here before he could stir any more trouble.
However, judging by the relaxed posture of the village chief, Garron saw no signs that the man suspected anything.
"Actually, I came here for something else today....."
Torak began, as he gave Garron a wide and warm grin.
"I came here today, because I wanted to officially invite you to tomorrow’s Moon Goddess Festival."
He continued, as Garron maintained a neutral expression while listening.
"You’ve done good work these past few weeks.
I won’t pretend the whole village suddenly loves you, because they don’t. However, the complaints have dropped off considerably.
And some of the parents have actually started praising the training."
He muttered as he ran his hands through his hair.
"They’ve seen how much stronger their sons and daughters have become, and even some of the slave owners have stopped complaining now that their workers can haul twice the weight they could a month ago."
"So I suppose this is my way of saying you’re doing a good job."
Torak muttered, as he gave Garron a thumbs up while grinning from ear to ear.
"Pfftt—"
Garron chuckled lightly, as he finally rested his sword back on the ground before nodding in satisfaction.
"I appreciate it."
He replied, as Torak gave a single nod before pushing himself upright.
"Just make sure you finish that damned training of yours early tomorrow and join the rest of us around sunset."
Torak instructed before adjusting his fur cloak.
"We might not have much worth celebrating in Ashfang, but the Moon Goddess Festival is different.
There’ll be food, drink, music, and enough ale to drown a bear."
Torak said with a laugh.
"So don’t spend the entire evening buried beneath your work like some miserable old hermit and live a little!"
Garron smiled.
"I’ll be there, Chief. Thanks for the invitation."
He answered as seemingly satisfied by that response, Torak stepped forward and gave him a firm pat on the shoulder before turning toward the door and walking out.
A few moments later, as he disappeared into the cold evening air beyond the residence, Garron found himself staring at his disappearing figure for several seconds without speaking, because despite having spent several minutes sitting in a room that looked remarkably similar to a military supply depot, Torak had remained completely oblivious to what he was actually looking at.
The chief had seen travel provisions, carrying packs, and enough food to sustain a sizable group for weeks, yet despite all of that, he had never once stopped to question why an Imperial recruiter would require such supplies gathered together only a single day before the festival.
The thought almost made him laugh.
"He’s a simple country fool..... I guess, in the end he does deserve what’s coming for him.
Because if he can’t even see the threats that are in front of him, then he was never going to keep this village safe for long."
Garron muttered, as he chuckled and locked the door once again, knowing full well that by this time tomorrow, he would leave Ashfang for good.