Shattered Sanity

On the day of the Moon Goddess Festival, while Garron and the recruits trained near the southern barracks on the outskirts of Ashfang Village, the rest of the settlement had already thrown itself fully into the festival preparations, as from the earliest hours of the morning, an unusual sense of excitement seemed to spread through every corner of the village.

Many of the businesses that normally operated throughout the day remained closed, as market stalls stood abandoned, the village smithy had extinguished its forge, and even the fur merchants had locked away their goods, because for the people of Ashfang, the Moon Goddess Festival was among the few occasions important enough to bring ordinary life to a complete halt.

Near the center of the village, dozens of warriors worked together to construct the enormous bonfire that would burn throughout the night, as wagon after wagon of timber was dragged into the central square before being stacked into a towering mound that stood taller than several huts combined, while groups of younger men hauled additional firewood from nearby storage sheds in preparation for the celebration.

Meanwhile, the women of the tribe remained busy around enormous iron cooking pots positioned above open flames, as stews, roasted meats, smoked fish, and countless other dishes slowly filled the air with tempting aromas while laughter and conversation flowed freely between them, with many already discussing the festivities that would take place once the sun finally disappeared beyond the horizon.

Elsewhere, several elders and tribal officials remained occupied with preparing the religious rituals that traditionally preceded the celebration, as offerings were gathered, ceremonial garments were brought out from storage, and preparations for the Moon Goddess worship ceremony slowly entered their final stages beneath the supervision of Chief Torak himself.

Everywhere one looked, smiles seemed easier to find than usual as throughout the settlement, there existed a shared feeling of anticipation that made the entire village seem lighter than normal, as though everyone collectively believed that tonight would be a night worth remembering.

However, while Ashfang Village prepared itself for celebration, another gathering was taking place elsewhere within Frost Valley.

—-------------

At roughly the same time, the atmosphere surrounding the Yellowtail Tribe could not have been more different, as by now, the entire tribe had already spent nearly a full day travelling through the Frostlands and currently rested within a temporary camp situated roughly ten miles away from Ashfang Village.

Small campfires burned throughout the clearing while warriors quietly sharpened weapons, checked bowstrings, repaired armor, and inspected supplies, as despite the large number of people present, remarkably little conversation took place between them.

The silence itself felt oppressive.

Because unlike Ashfang, whose thoughts centered around food, drink, and celebration, the thoughts of Yellowtail’s warriors remained focused entirely upon the battle awaiting them later tonight.

Many had spent their entire lives hearing stories about ancestors who had died fighting Ashfang warriors.

Others carried scars earned during border skirmishes that had taken place years earlier.

And more than a few believed that allowing Ashfang to leave Frost Valley peacefully would be the same as betraying generations of bloodshed that had come before them.

As a result, while the people of Ashfang spent the day laughing together, the warriors of Yellowtail spent it preparing themselves mentally for violence, as sharpened hatred and anticipation burned behind their eyes with an intensity that made even the novice fighters appear unsettling.

To many of them, tonight represented something far greater than a simple raid.

It represented closure.

It represented revenge.

And most importantly, it represented what they believed would be their final opportunity to settle a feud that had existed long before many of them were born.

—----------

Meanwhile, back within Ashfang Village, the day continued as usual for Riven as he trained like he did everyday under Garron’s supervision.

However, as the day slowly progressed into late afternoon and Garron dismissed the members of the trash training group, Riven eventually mustered up the courage to walk up to him and stand by his side.

For several moments, Riven simply stood nearby with his head lowered, waiting patiently until Garron finally acknowledged his presence.

”What is it, recruit?” Garron asked, as he looked up from the topography map he had been studying, as only then did Riven slowly raise his head.

”Teacher, my slave master has instructed me to return home earlier than usual today so that I can assist him during tonight’s Moon Goddess Festival,”

Riven began carefully, as though choosing each word with extreme caution.

”If you permit it, I would like to leave alongside the Super Trash Group a few hours from now.”

He requested, as his words caused Garron to fall silent.

For several moments, Garron simply stared into Riven’s eyes while considering the situation, as he contemplated what response to offer the boy.

The truth was that Riven occupied an unusual position in his mind.

He possessed unusual discipline and focus, and had a work ethic that far exceeded most of the other recruits.

However, despite those qualities, Garron still did not view him as one of his most valuable investments.

Not compared to the sisters.

Not compared to several others whose talents promised greater returns.

Yet despite that fact, he still disliked the idea of leaving a hardworking recruit behind in Ashfang once the chaos began.

So eventually, Garron let out a slow sigh before pinching the bridge of his nose.

”I’m not going to physically stop you from leaving if that’s what you choose to do, boy,” Garron said, as his voice remained calm.

”However, if you walk away from today’s training early, then don’t bother showing up tomorrow.”

He warned, as the words immediately caused Riven’s body to stiffen.

”My training is not a game,” Garron continued, as his gaze hardened noticeably.

”I don’t dismiss recruits early because they feel like leaving, and I certainly don’t do it because some slave owner decides he wants his servant back for a festival.”

He explained, as his tone carried a level of finality that left little room for argument.

”Inside these training grounds, I decide when recruits arrive and when recruits leave, because the moment I start making exceptions for one person, everyone else will start demanding the same treatment.”

Garron said, as he folded his arms across his chest.

”Still, the choice is yours.”

He concluded.

”You can stay and continue training with me.”

”Or you can leave early and never return.”

Garron concluded, as for a while, neither of them spoke, until eventually, Riven lowered his head once again before quietly nodding.

”I understand....”

He muttered before turning around and walking away, as despite the severity of Garron’s ultimatum, the decision itself had never been particularly difficult for him to make.

After everything he had endured and sacrificed to reach this point, there was simply no possibility that he would abandon his training because Hagrid demanded his presence at a festival, as the strength he sought had become far too important to throw away so casually.

However, while Garron had effectively settled one problem, another still remained waiting for him at home, as the moment he began walking back toward the training grounds, thoughts of Hagrid inevitably resurfaced inside his mind.

The old cripple was not a patient man under normal circumstances, and he was certainly not the sort of person who reacted calmly when his orders were ignored, as Riven could already imagine the fury that would be waiting for him later that evening once it became obvious that he had chosen training over obedience.

As a result, although he returned to his place among the recruits and continued following Garron’s instructions, his concentration never fully recovered, because throughout the remainder of the afternoon, a growing sense of dread lingered stubbornly in the back of his mind, making it impossible for him to focus entirely on his training while knowing that every additional minute he spent here would only worsen the punishment awaiting him at home.