Chapter 620: A Final Day of Peace and Happiness Begins
Once her coven had agreed to take up Ashlynn’s challenge, they wasted no time in addressing the most immediate concern for almost every member of the coven. Something to eat! Of course, deciding to enter the festival in search of food was easy, but deciding what to eat was a different challenge altogether.
Ropes with colorful streamers hanging from them sectioned off an area of the field between the inner and outer walls of the ancient fortress, clustering most of the people selling food into a single area where their cookfires could be more easily managed and any accidents could quickly be contained. On the grassy hillside beyond the ropes, people from all across the Vale and beyond sat on blankets or directly on the grass, sharing food they may have never eaten before and listening to music played by musicians with instruments that were as varied as the food.
When Ashlynn and her companions finally arrived, an intoxicating medley of savory scents and sweet aromas washed over them even before they reached the first stall. Standing behind wooden tables that were sometimes little more than slabs of lumber placed atop wooden crates, cooks from the Scaled Clan or the Glass Eyed Clan called out to passers by, offering samples of their spiced meats accompanied by a dizzying array of colorful sauces.
Elsewhere, a Golden Eyed hunter proudly proclaimed that his roasted meats had all come from game hunted within the past two days, promising a flavor still seeped in the thrill of the hunt. Across from him, a member of the Ancient Clan wore a blanket over his heavy cloak, huddling close to his cook fire as he plucked delicate, puffy pastries out of a giant pot filled with boiling oil.
Evidently, the cool, wet climate of the Vale disagreed with the poor man so much that he had enlisted the aid of a pair of young women from the Horned Clan to drizzle honey over the finished confections before selling them to passersby. Clearly, whatever he had agreed to pay for their help was worth far less than the discomfort of leaving the warm area immediately adjacent to his cook fire.
"So many choices, so many choices," Talauia said, fluttering up on her gossamer wings to survey the row after row of stalls selling food from what felt like half the clans of the Eldritch nations, even though she knew it was far less than that. "Look, look, they’re making fish fritters, and, is that, is it, it is, it’s boar’s heart stew!" the Thistle Witch cried excitedly as she surveyed the offerings from across the mountains.
"Big Sister Heila," Virve said as she surveyed the offerings with her advantage of height. "You weren’t with us when we entered a nation ruled by the Dark Feathered Clan," she said, pointing at a stall with what looked like several sausages hanging in nets. "
They are masters of fermenting meat and preserving sausage until the fat is sweet, succulent, and infused with spices. If you slice it thinly, it all but melts on your tongue," she said, licking her lips in memory at the flavorful delights she’d sampled while Nyrielle led them from one Eldritch nation to the next in search of allies.