"You will pay twenty silver coinsh for thish uselessh boy?" Hagrid asked, as his good eye shifted toward Riven with the sa dismissive indifference a rchant might show toward cracked pottery resting forgotten in so dark corner of a market stall.
"He ish no fighter... the mosht I’ve seen him do ish carry two bucketsh of water at once without dropping them..." Hagrid continued, his swollen tongue dragging against his broken teeth while saliva gathered along the edge of his mouth. "He cannot beco an Ashendant... the boy ish damaged goodsh..."
Torak chuckled quietly after hearing that, while rubbing the thick beard along his jaw.
"Well, whether the recruiter manages to shape him into an Ascendant or not hardly matters to ," Torak replied calmly. "The mont I deliver the children into his custody, my responsibility ends there.
The arrangent we have is to pay by number, not by quality."
A faint grin spread across his face afterward.
"So yes, the twenty silver coins are guaranteed."
Riven listened to the entire exchange quietly from near the wall, his lowered eyes hiding the violent beating of his heart while his fingers slowly curled against his palms beneath the sleeves of his worn clothing.
Because for the first ti in his life, he could finally see a path leading sowhere beyond this suffocating brothel, and while Torak and Hagrid viewed the Valdrak Empire as a machine that consud children for profit and survival, all Riven could think about was the possibility of finally seeing the outside world with his own eyes after spending nearly his entire life trapped within these walls.
And perhaps even more importantly than that, he felt his blood pump just at the thought of getting to learn how to fight.
As if there was one thing he wanted more desperately than anything else in his life, it was power.....
Power that could help him exact his revenge on all those who had wronged him.
"Fine then..." Hagrid muttered eventually, as he shifted awkwardly in his wheelchair while the wooden fra creaked beneath him. "I’ll give him to you... though I only have two caretakersh left now... thish boy and Tashaaa... so I still expect him to work around the household while training to beco an Ashendant..."
Hagrid demanded, as Torak nodded imdiately.
"Well, that changes nothing," he said. "The boy still belongs to you until we officially cross into Valdrak territory. After that, his ownership transfers to the Empire."
Hagrid wheezed out another laugh after hearing those words, as though the thought of receiving twenty silver coins for a slave who would beco useless to him the mont they reached the Empire amused him greatly.
"Then we have an agreent..."
He muttered, as Torak slowly rose from his chair, his large fra seeming to dominate the room once again as the wooden floor groaned beneath his weight.
"Well then, thank you for the cooperation, old friend," Torak said calmly, before briefly turning his eyes toward Riven near the wall.
The glance lasted barely a second, however Riven still felt cold afterward, as though just making eye contact with the chief had drained him of a lot of energy.
Then finally, without another word, the village chief stepped toward the exit and disappeared through the doorway.
*Creaaakkk*
The old wooden door slowly shut behind him.
And the mont it did, Hagrid began laughing.
"Hah... hahahaha..."
The cripple’s body shook violently in his wheelchair as his half-dead face twisted into a greedy grin while strands of saliva dripped down his chin.
"Hope... at lashht..." he whispered excitedly. "Maybe there really ish a healer in the Valdrak Empire capable of fixing thish broken body of mine..."
His breathing grew heavier as his eyes wandered toward his useless legs.
"Maybe I’ll walk again..."
For one brief mont, Riven almost saw sothing painfully human within the cripple, as beneath all the cruelty and filth, there still existed a desperate old man clinging to the faint possibility that his ruined body could soday be restored.
Then Hagrid slowly turned his head toward him.
And whatever sympathy Riven almost felt vanished instantly.
"Hah..." the cripple wheezed. "It looks like the future holds hope for ... and despair for you, boy."
His crooked grin widened further afterward.
"Even if you beco a sholdier... all you’re really doing ish marching toward your own death..." Hagrid continued, as his words dragged together in an ugly slur while his good eye stared directly into Riven’s soul.
"How doesh it feel knowing that? Knowing that no matter what you do... no matter where life takesh you... you’ll never beco anything important..."
Riven lowered his head obediently after hearing those words, exactly the way he always did whenever Hagrid spoke to him, as he maintained the appearance of a broken and submissive servant despite the hatred quietly festering beneath the surface of his calm expression.
Because while Hagrid laughed inside that wheelchair believing himself victorious, Riven silently swore that when the ti ca, he would return every insult this cripple had sent his way tenfold.
—------------
That night, just as Torak had told Hagrid, the village council gathered near the central fire pit resting at the heart of Ashfang Village, where thick logs crackled beneath the freezing northern winds while dozens of tribe mbers slowly assembled beneath the dark sky with uneasy expressions spread across their faces.
Large animal hides had been stretched around the eting grounds to block the harshest gusts coming down from Frost Valley, however the cold still lingered heavily in the air while smoke drifted upward toward the stars in twisting gray streams.
Torak stood near the flas with both hands resting behind his back, his broad fra illuminated by the orange glow while beside him stood a tall unfamiliar man wearing layered leather armor reinforced with steel plating unlike anything most villagers had ever seen before.
Even the sword hanging at the stranger’s waist looked foreign.
Its sheath carried silver engravings running along the surface while the man himself stood with the posture of soone trained for war from a very young age.
Whispers spread quietly through the gathered crowd as villagers exchanged uncertain glances while trying to study the outsider.
"The man standing beside is Recruiter Garron Vale of the Valdrak Empire," Torak announced eventually, his deep voice silencing much of the crowd almost imdiately. "He arrived several days ago carrying an offer that may very well determine whether this tribe survives the next decade."
Murmurs spread afterward.
Garron stepped forward calmly after hearing his introduction, as the man swept his gaze across the villagers before speaking in a composed and practiced tone.
"The Valdrak Empire has expanded rapidly throughout the northern territories during recent years," Garron explained. "New roads are being built. New settlents are rising. Trade routes are opening across lands that were once considered uninhabitable."
His voice remained steady and confident.
"However, expansion creates opportunities for those willing to seize them."
Several villagers leaned forward slightly while listening.
"The Empire is prepared to offer your tribe fertile land near the northern settlents alongside proper housing, livestock assistance, trade protection, and access to Imperial markets," Garron continued. "Your children will grow up with access to dicine, blacksmiths, education, military protection, and cultivation techniques far beyond anything currently available inside Frost Valley."
An older villager frowned afterward.
"And what exactly does the Empire gain from this arrangent?" the elder asked cautiously.
Garron smiled faintly.
"Loyal citizens."
The answer caused several people nearby to laugh quietly while others remained visibly skeptical.
Another elder spoke afterward.
"You expect us to abandon the lands our ancestors lived upon for generations simply because outsiders promise us warr hos?"
He asked, as Torak finally stepped forward after hearing that.
"Our ancestors also froze to death here generation after generation," he replied bluntly. "They starved here. They buried children here. They survived because they had no better options."
His eyes swept across the crowd slowly.
"We do."
Silence followed those words briefly.
Then Garron continued speaking once more.
"The Empire does not expect blind trust," he said calmly. "Which is precisely why I proposed sothing beneficial for both sides before relocation begins."
Several villagers exchanged curious looks afterward.
Torak nodded slowly before raising his voice again.
"To demonstrate good faith, Recruiter Garron Vale has agreed that starting tomorrow, he will personally train every child below the age of fourteen within Ashfang Village."
That announcent imdiately caused the crowd to erupt into shocked murmurs, as Torak raised one hand to silence the crowd before continuing.
"Within one year, he claims he can turn those children into true Ascendants capable of surpassing the primitive hunting techniques our tribe has relied upon for generations."
A younger hunter near the fire scoffed loudly afterward.
"And we’re simply supposed to believe so outsider can transform children into warriors within a single year?"
Garron calmly t the man’s gaze.
"If the Empire’s thods were weak, our banners would not fly across half the northern territories..."
He replied evenly, as that confident response caused several nearby villagers to nod unconsciously.
The Empire did have a pretty strong reputation in these parts, and hence, seizing the montum, Torak stepped forward once again.
"I will send my own two sons to train under him," he declared firmly. "And if you trust my judgnt after all these years leading this tribe, then you should send your children as well."
Uneasy whispers spread once more.
However, Torak was not finished.
"In fact," he continued while his expression hardened slightly, "I have already made my decision regarding who will participate."
The crowd slowly quieted again.
"Not only the sons and daughters of Ashfang..." Torak said, while his voice carried across the firelit gathering. "But also the bastards, the slaves, and every child within the proper age range will undergo this training."
That statent stunned the gathering into complete silence.
Several elders imdiately frowned while others looked visibly alard.
As one older woman rose to her feet almost instantly.
"You intend to waste Imperial resources training slaves?"
She demanded sharply, as Torak snorted after hearing that.
"I would rather possess strong Ascendants serving this tribe than weak mortals capable of achieving nothing aningful," he replied coldly. "Strength benefits Ashfang regardless of where it cos from."
Another elder slamd his staff against the frozen ground afterward.
"And what happens if these slaves gain too much strength?" the old man demanded angrily. "What happens when they stop obeying?"
Torak’s eyes narrowed slightly.
"Then perhaps the problem lies with masters too weak to control them."
That answer imdiately split the council.
Several younger hunters burst into rough laughter while many older elders looked deeply disturbed by the idea.
Argunts quickly erupted throughout the gathering afterward as voices rose louder around the fire pit while villagers began debating among themselves fiercely.
So supported the proposal enthusiastically after hearing promises about fertile land and Imperial opportunities.
Others feared abandoning Frost Valley entirely.
While several seed horrified by the thought of slaves receiving warrior training alongside their own children.
Yet despite the resistance coming from certain elders, the direction of the gathering slowly beca increasingly clear as greed began spreading through Ashfang Village far faster than fear ever could.
As in the end, Torak had deliberately not inford the clan mbers about the recruiter’s true plans for these children.
As for now, he had decided that the best approach was to keep everyone except his most trusted n in the dark, until the opportune mont ca to reveal the truth.
User Comments
0 comments from readers