There are more things in this world than eyes can see – places in the heart of the Earth where no human has ever been. The Amazon rainforest still holds deep secrets, and most of the ocean has never been explored. Mountains loom on the horizon, daring any man to climb them, and deep below the surface of our world lurk untold mysteries.
There, deep below the feet of unsuspecting men, live all manner of wonderous creatures and monsters. Humans once understood this, and many folk stories and fairytales warn of the dangers that dwell beneath the earth.
Today, those warning fall on deaf ears. Tales of trolls and goblins go unheeded – spurned as fiction – something to be relegated to a story book or seen on the big screen.
A host of interpretations of such creatures are splashed across comic book pages or shown in old theater plays. Yet, to most humans, they remain the stuff of imagination – a child's dream.
But these creatures… they are all real, and many of them hold no compunction against killing or eating humans, sometimes for entertainment.
Despite this, there are still trolls who find the portrayal of their kin by humanity… rather alluring.
Nomura was one such troll, but she was in no way an ordinary one.
As an infant, she was stolen by her tripe and forced to endure changes which imbued her with special abilities beyond the rest of trollkind.
She could walk in daylight.
For many years she harbored the ability to change, slipping into the guise of a human, living among them, speaking to them, eating their food, sleeping in beds, just like them.
But that bond was broken now, and Nomura's ability to change was gone. She'd lost everything: her life, position, purpose. She felt like a stray dog, desperately searching for a reason to live, for someone to claim her. All her life she was faithful to her master, Gunmar the Black. But he was not a kind master. He'd beaten dogs like her when they stepped out of line, and he proved he was more than happy to put his animals down when their usefulness ended.
Nomura knew that all too well.
She hadn't done anything wrong. Quite the opposite. Everything she'd been told to do, she did, but even then, she failed to aid Gunmar in his efforts to escape the Darklands.
Displeased, Gunmar took out his wrath on her, imprisoning her with him in the Darklands.
Then something happened – something Nomura didn't believe was possible. Someone… had mercy on her. He was the Trollhunter, her enemy, but despite that, he saved her life. Risking everything, he brought her back to the outside world
That moment turned Nomura's world upside down. It was a long time before she understood what he did – even now she still marveled at it.
He saved her – his enemy.
He didn't have to do it; in fact, Jim should have left her behind.
Since that day, Nomura looked at humans with renewed curiosity, realizing there was still so much she didn't understand about them. Regardless of the hundreds of years spent in their company, humans remained an enigma she had yet to solve.
But it wasn't just humans Nomura found puzzling. She didn't understand trolls either. When she left California for New Jersey and moved to New Trollmarket, they'd accepted her.
She wondered at Jim, who insisted she stay with the trolls; at Blinky, who stood up for her without knowing her; at Stricklander who stayed behind in California for the love of a human woman.
After the past few years, Nomura felt like she didn't understand anything at all, and she hated it.
The only relief she found was in her nightly excursions to the surface.
On swift feet, she raced through the heart of New Jersey, feeling the wind in her hair as her heart leapt for joy.
She bounded from building to building so quickly no human could ever hope to catch her. It was an incredible sight, she knew, a nimble troll leaping into the air and twisting mid-flight to land firmly on strong, stony legs.
On one such night, Nomura crept through the dark street, careful not to let the humans see her in the evening bustle. She stopped short when she heard the soft strains of a flute. The sweet hum of violins followed, accompanied by the mellow waves of horns. Beethoven's seventh symphony, Allegretto.
Nomura closed her eyes and listened. Even if the instruments weren't nearby, her keen sense of hearing picked them up. She strained to determine which direction the sounds came from, and then followed her ears for several blocks, the music gradually growing louder.
She stopped and looked up. An old theatre building. Nomura snorted and allowed herself an amused smile. The music floated through the old walls and out into the street, washing over Nomura, banishing all thoughts of her troubles as she sank into the song, letting its calm, even tones settle through her.
She climbed up onto the roof and was pleasantly surprised to find a trap door – probably an old fire exit for stage hands, or a way to let fresh air into the building.
Nomura pried the old door open. When the seal popped, music rushed through the crack and bathed her in its wonderful presence. She slipped through the door and found herself on a beam, high above the stage.
Far below, lines of musicians sat in deep concentration, moving in concert with each other, hitting each note perfectly as their conductor stood sweating under the bright lights. The man's white hair and shirt were soaked through, but despite that, his every movement was precisely in tune with the music, leading the orchestra flawlessly. Nomura tsked when she saw how empty the audience was. Only one-third of the seats were occupied, and most of the listeners wore clothes not even suitable for a birthday party, much less a concert such as this.
Shameful.
Nomura didn't harbor much respect for humans, but there was one thing she admired about them – their ability to create things like this music. It was so… beautiful – magical.
Whether it was elegant pottery, or such wonderful music – and not all humans possessed such abilities, far from it – but those who did… Her heart fluttered.
With a sigh, Nomura draped comfortably over the wooden beam as the music exploded into a triumphant blast.
This was what she loved about this kind of music. When she listened to it, all her fears – her worries and deepest troubles – melted away. In days past, the music could even steal Gunmar from her mind, if only for a short time.
Now, deaf to her own doubts and fears, the violins' smooth song was the only sound she heard. For this short, magnificent moment, she was at peace.
Sadly, the feeling passed as the concert ended. The audience applauded, making up for their lack of numbers with their enthusiasm.
The musicians bowed and left the stage, filing out of the theatre several minutes later. Darkness settled over the building as the janitor swept up and flicked off the lights, leaving Nomura to soak up the lonely silence.
Emptiness swept over her as she rolled onto her back and stared up at the vacant ceiling, her mind blank, emotions crushing her like a hundred-ton weight.
It was all… so meaningless.
Was there anything she could do to get rid of this terrible feeling?
Editted by dtill359
