Down South At the Outskirts of Fereya
General Joash Marcus signaled a halt, raising his hand.
Beneath the ridge, nestled between a river and the plains of Centuria, lay the bustling town of Fereya. Its people had long been used to the increased number of soldiers, and so they continued with their daily lives. Farmers still tending fields and preparing for market, and metalsmiths forging tools and weapons.
General Malik had spread news that there were movements from the Estalis Army but they had assured the townsfolk that the war would be swift. They should still be ready to evacuate if needed.
Perhaps it was the general's assurance that made most people complacent. But there were also those who were cautious and had prepared in case of an evacuation.
But eastward, beyond the tree line, a darker truth unfurled: pale tents like teeth, rows of them, their spines straight under the weight of Estalis banners snapping in the wind.
"They made it before us," Joshua muttered.
