Edit: I went back to the last chapter to edit a bit and ended up added a few paragraphs because I couldn't help myself. World building is my greatest weakness. Anyway, its nothing substantial to the overall plot, but its there if you want to read it.

Chapter 37: Personal Business

"Oh, thank Deya's Light," said Blinky the second Jim stepped out of the tunnel to the Sink Hole. It was as if the blue troll had been standing there, gaining the willpower to go down there alone. Luck seemed to be on his side though and not Jim's. The teenager, in fact, might have questioned Blinky's nervousness if he wasn't immediately assaulted by the handsy troll, the stone being seemingly checking Jim for all of his limbs.

Only when the mage's limbs had all been accounted for, Did Blinky speak, "Young Jim, what were you doing in the Sink Hole! There are man-eaters down there. What if something had happened to you?"

"Why are there even man-eaters in Troll Market?!" immediately squeaked the youth, part of him now understanding the invites to dinner. "I thought Gumm-Gumms weren't allowed down here."

The intellectual shrugged before stating, "Technically, they aren't exactly Gumm-Gumms since they never joined Gunmar's army. There were other breeds of trolls that had a ...taste... for human flesh. Gunmar's tribe was hardly the first to devour your kinsmen."

Jim pulled his satchel closer, feeling the weight of his magical tools, "That still doesn't explain why they are down there. I would have brought a sword or something if I had known."

Blinky gave Jim a look while putting two hands on his hips and crossing the other set over his chest, "You shouldn't have been down there at all. Premediated or not."

The youth shrugged as if claiming blame for obviously sneaking down there, "Still doesn't explain the cannibals, the bad side of town or not. That is something that should really be in the tour guide booklet."

"First of all," started off the trainer in exasperation as he started to push the teenager away from the entrance of the Sink Hole, "We all know that humans are curious creatures that like to get into everything. We both know you would have been down there in a week if we would have told you, losing a few fingers if not a full limb," Jim took this moment to look insulted, but the blue troll just continued, "And secondly, you are using the word cannibal inaccurately. You have to devour your own species to be defined as a cannibal. The trolls down there either have low light tolerance or are ... rehabilitating their palates."

The mage took on a horror-struck expression, his brows rising into his forehead. Blinkous seemed to catch on and awkwardly laughed it off as he took Jim by the shoulders and started to guide him towards the library. His words were a plea in Jim's ear, "Just promise me you won't go down there again. And please, please, please, Young Jim, don't bring it up in conversation around Aaarrrgghh. It makes him quite uncomfortable."

Jim was about to open his mouth and say he knew that Aaarrrgghh had been a Gumm-Gumm, but then it just occurred to him … he had never had that conversation in this life, had he? Sometimes it was like he was skipping between lives and … it was suffocating.

He really needed to get home and have a moment to himself. A moment from the madness.

Swallowing his unpleasant thoughts, the teenager allowed Blinky to prattle on about their lessons for this evening. Beside himself, he couldn't help but clutch his satchel a little closer. Freedom was so close and yet he couldn't help but feel guilty for it in his teacher's presence.

"Here's your glug," said BaaAch as he handed a goblet to a miserable looking Draal, some of the liquid spilling onto the table. "Though I think you may need a bigger cup if you are planning on drowning in it."

Still despondent, Draal accepted it with a grunt, "I don't need something to drown in. I just need a place to away to as I gather ... my thoughts."

"Well, you can always away to the lake. It is nearby, though I hear there are some unfortunate after-effects when you stay under too long," joked BaaAch as he sat down with his own mug, humming pleasantly as he got his first gulp. "Besides, I'm sure your dad would find you even there. Maybe you should just talk to him and get it over with."

Draal stalled, cup an inch from his mouth. Immediately, his mug was slapped onto the heavy wooden table, the drink slipping over his fingers, "What do you mean my father would still find me? Have you heard that he is already looking for me? It's barely been three days since I last spoke to him. How could he have noticed already?"

Shrugging his shoulders, BaaAch admitted, "I don't know Draal, but your father's at the front looking for you. Seems he's noticed you've been ignoring him and he's on a troll-hunt."

The spiky troll immediately hunch down against the table even though it did very little given the spikes on his back, "And did he see you?"

BaaAch shrugged again, "Probably, knowing him. So I made sure to get you the strongest glug they have. It'll make your father's interrogation probably less painful. It might also help with that arm curse."

Draal glared at him. Not that BaaAch could exactly tell, his hair now weighed down by the glug he was trying to drink. Half of the glass had probably already been absorbed by his bangs.

"I already told you that it wasn't a curse. It was a foretelling ... and it's my personal business," growled the blue troll, all but one with the table now.

Sighing, his glug lonely and in need of drinking, the hairy troll stated, "And it will soon be your father's business as well, Draal. I told you, he just knows things. It's like the power of the armor or something magic-like that I don't want to get involved in. There's no point fighting it. We couldn't hide from it when we were whelps and knocked Looooo down twelve flights of stairs, and we can't hide from him now."

Draal dug his claws into the table in frustration, part of him feeling BaaAch needed a good punch and a fall down twelve flights of stairs. "You need to go distract him now while I find a way out. My secrets are my own."

Drink still undrunk, BaaAch sighed before heavily putting his glass down, "Draal, need I remind you that your father is literally the Trollhunter and he, well, hunts trolls. And I'm slightly terrified of him and his judgy gaze with its one twitch eye,"

"He doesn't have a twitchy eye," intruded Draal, but BaaAch simply continued.

"In fact, he just has to look at me wrong and I'll spill the beans. Then he'll simply hunt us down like the wriggling troll eels we are," finished BaaAch exuberantly. "Now, finish your glug."

As if the devil heard his name called, Kanjigar's voice finally floated through the tavern asking if anyone had seen Draal. BaaAch waved his hand at the spikey troll's drink as if telling him to down some liquid courage. Draal, seemingly unsure of what else to did, did that very thing. He took one long chug before he slammed the mug down and then growled, "I am Draal the Deadly. I run from no one … except from my own father. Do not tell him I was here."

And with that, Draal was crawling out one of the tavern windows, a grunt and a crashing sound following after. Honestly, it made sense since they were in the loft of the tavern and it was a one-story fall from that window.

Blinking in surprise, having not expected that, BaaAch nearly yelped when suddenly Kanjigar the Courageous was standing next to him, tone questioning, "Ah, BaaAch. I thought I heard Draal's voice over here as well. Is he nearby? I wish to speak with him."

Mouth falling open slightly, his mind going a mile a minute because BaaAch always had a healthy fear of authority figures, the hairy troll slurred, "Ahhh … no. He's not here right now."

Technically, Draal wasn't in the tavern anymore. He was one story down and probably two alleys over.

Kanjigar raised a brow, his armor seeming to glint in warning as the older troll turned his attention to the second mug at the table. He hummed in his throat and asked, "Then why are their two mugs here?"

Feeling like the ceiling was closing in, BaaAch shrugged, "Because I brought both to the table?"

The blue troll raised his brow again, leaning in a little as if to catch the scent of his lies as he inquired, "And did you drink both?"

BaaAch, wincing away from the other troll, laughed nervously before admitting, "Well, I wanted to drink both."

Kanjigar hummed again, obviously ill amused before he put a hand on the table and leaned in to state bluntly, "Where is Draal, BaaAch? I know he was here."

Despite himself, the orange troll splintered like soft shale and blurted out, "He jumped out the window because he's upset about some not-curse or something and doesn't want to talk to you."

Immediately, the younger troll wanted to throw himself into the ravine, but the Trollhunter merely nodded in acceptance and patted him on the shoulder before walking away, "Always were a good whelp despite your eccentric tendencies. Now if you excuse me, I have some troll hunting to do."

And like that, BaaAch was left alone. Beside himself, he couldn't help but sigh and grumble, "I don't have enough glug to deal with this."

Jim stumbled out of Blinky's library an hour later, covered head to toe in a white chalky substance. His hair was standing on end and the only colors that could be ascertained were the blues of his eyes and the dimmed glow of his amulet's stone.

Coughing, Blinky came out a second later, just as upheavaled and covered in dust.

For few moments, the two white-chalked figures coughed up a storm before bothering to look at each other. But, before either could make a comment, Aaarrrgghh was stumbling out of the library like a wrecking ball, hands over his eyes as he roared, "Aaarrrgghh blind! Chalk no taste good either."

The two chalk covered figures cringed as the blinded giant stumbled into a nearby wall. Said impact caused him to fall back into another dwell, the very building shaking on his foundation. This just made Aaarrrgghh stumble in another direction, looking like some kind of blind yeti as chalk covered as he was.

Blinky seemed torn between going to help his blinded friend or speaking to his student.

Deciding that a little chaos would keep Troll Market on its toes for a few seconds, the intellectual turned towards Jim. The youth opened his mouth like he was about to apologize or try try to explain himself, but the troll interrupted, "It alright, Young Jim. All failures are lessons. Yes. Lessons that teach us what not to do."

Aaarrrgghh ran into another wall at this, causing both Blinky and Jim to wince.

"And I understand that things like concentrating on a stone reshaping spell can be difficult after social separations," continued Blinky, two of his eyes trying to watch Aaarrrgghh at the same time as Jim. "But absentmindedness is not the most fitting way for a troll to die and certainly not a to-be stone wizard."

At this, both Jim and Blinky twitched as Aaarrrgghh tripped through some clothes lines, causing him to start stumbling towards the nearest marketplace, likely to cause mass destruction.

"Nonetheless, the fault is my own," continued Blinky, almost all his eyes now focused on Aaarrrgghh and the growing path of destruction, "I am one of your tutors after all and perhaps I should have dismissed you after the first five times you nearly destroyed my stone work table and the floor beneath it. So, it seems having to de-chalk my library, and Aaarrrgghh apparently, are the prices I must pay for not reading the mood properly. Humans are social creatures after all and losing your human companions must be very detrimental to your mental health. Humans really are emotionally driven creatures."

Jim raised a brow at that. He honestly didn't even know how to respond. Should he be upset or just confused? Nonetheless, this gave him an out so he could work on the spellwork he really wanted to.

Putting on an over-exaggerated kicked puppy pout, Jim waved his arms and tried to look pathetic while knowing he looked entirely ridiculous covered in chalk dust. "Trolls just don't understand what its like being … over-emotional and squishy."

Blinky merely nodded so Jim went with it, amping up the acting as he put on his whiny voice, "It's just really hard being … uh … sad and stuff. I just need some alone time to sort out all these gross human emotions and other things."

The figures then shared an awkward moment before there was a scream of rage and a very Aaarrrgghh, "Sorry," in the distance.

Patting Jim on the shoulder once, Blinky smiled and stated, "Well, I trust that you can get to your dwell on your own? No Sink Hole or any alternate routes. I can only keep so much from Vendel before he catches wind of pending chaos. Now if you excuse me, I really need to track Aaarrrgghh down before he destroys something important."

Not that that was going to be hard. The green troll had literally left footprints of chalk behind.

Nodding as Blinky ran after his old friend, Jim called out, "See you later Blinky … and sorry for all the trouble."

And Jim really was sorry as he grabbed his satchel and headed for his dwell, the yearning for freedom drawing him forward. After all, poor Aaarrrgghh and Blinky were probably going to get blamed for his escape.

A few minutes later Jim was sitting on his bed, looking at the contents of the satchel that he had just poured onto his sleeping furs. It was the gravesand jar and the skull cap bowl … and a small something extra. It appeared to be a scroll, a blue ribbon wrapped around it.

Staring for a moment, wondering if it was just a receipt or something, Jim cautiously reached forward and unwrapped the ribbon. The piece of fabric fluttered onto the bed almost in slow motion as he unraveled the scroll. Jim blinked in surprise as he read the cursive title, "To bind a familiar."

Now wondering if this was put in his satchel in error, Jim shook his head. He seriously doubted that. The Bargainer didn't seem the type to make such a mistake. Why she wanted him to have this spell, Jim wasn't sure he wanted to know. Nonetheless, he found it best to read it over later because the spell specifically was listed for blood mages.

"I don't even want to know how she knew that," mumbled Jim to himself as he rolled the parchment back up, stuffing it into his shirt. He then pulled his borrowed spell book out and flipped back to the instructions on how to make a Blood-Letter's Blade. So, he had an innocent's blade taken and carving in the runes would only take a few minutes. Once that was done, he only had to fill the bowl cap with gravesand and … feed it.

It had taken a little more reading of the book, but Jim had eventually figured out what feeding the blade meant. He would have to intentionally cut himself and cover the blade in his blood. It made sense in the end. It was called a blood mage's spell book after all.

Straightening the skull-bowl onto the bed, laying a fur to the side incase he had to hide it quickly, the teenager poured the sand into the bowl. He then pulled out the pocket knife and looked around the room. He found a chisel with little effort, because apparently that was a normal house hold item for trolls, and then started carving away. His runes weren't terribly elegant or what an artist would call smooth sweeping strokes, but the rough jaggedness of each line seemed fitting for this type of tool.

Handle now done, little flakes of plastic scattered over his bed from the carving, Jim came to the hard part. He had to give the blade its first feeding.

Already wincing, he flipped open the blade and stared at the smooth metal. He wasn't one to intentionally harm himself, but he had cut himself in the kitchen enough times to know the sting and the bite of flesh parting.

Swallowing, telling himself it was just like any other accident in the kitchen, he put the blade firmly in his palm and pulled. He grit his teeth as the metal sliced at his flesh, his red blood being tasted by that silvery surface as the unclaimed droplets fell into the gravesand below. Jim made sure the blade was covered in a thin coat of his blood before squeezing his fist and allowing a little stream to fall into the bowl below.

He then folded the blade into an L shape so it would fit completely and buried it into the gravesand.

Sitting there, hand being held close to his chest, Jim hoped he was doing the right thing. He knew that this was considered taboo magic, but if he did it for his family it was worth it. Right? It wasn't like one little spell could turn him evil or something.

Pushing such thoughts away, Jim scooted closer to the large bowl, his legs crossed as he waited for the blood to dry on his blade. After it was blessed, it was supposed to glow and then he would say the final incantation to claim the blade as his own.

Easy peasy lemon squeezy. At least he hoped so. He would probably have to leave tonight because knowing his luck, someone would discover the skull cap or gravesand. Honestly, he probably should take them with him. He just didn't feel comfortable with Vendel or Blinky finding the items. The thought of disappointing either of them made his stomach sink. Besides, a few more spells in the blood book called for the items. So, it was probably for the best to keep them.

Finally, after what felt like an hour of feeling guilty and just wanting to get this over with, there was a spark. And then another and another, like someone was trying to start a fire with a flint rock, little flickers of light jumping up from beneath the sand.

Heart sputtering in excitement, Jim made sure the blood mage book was open to the claiming incantation. Then, without a second thought, Jim swept any gravesand off of the pocket knife, and immediately his stomach sank. The blade and runes were glowing red and not blue.

He didn't remember the meaning behind every color of magic, given he had a hard time memorizing every book Vendel and Blinky were trying to feed him, but he did recall that it was generally a color with negative attributes. He once heard Vendel grumble how thankful he was that Jim's magic wasn't red or yellow. Blinky had disagreed, saying that all colored magics have two sides, but that didn't make Jim feel any better. He could only hope that after he said the enchantment and claimed the blade as his own, it would take on his blue magic.

Sighing out of his nose, he carefully picked up the knife and unfolded it, grains of gravesand sprinkling back into the bowl below. The first thing Jim noticed was that there wasn't a speck of blood on the knife. In fact, he couldn't even see any droplets in the bowl. The blade had literally absorbed his blood.

Flinching at the thought, Jim muttered, "Remind me to put you on a diet, Count Chocula." Finally, telling himself to just get this over with, the youth placed the cut hand on top of the blade and spoke clearly:

"Blade, you have been taken.

Blood has been let and you have been fed.

Bind to me blade.

For we are one in the same."

It was weird and creepy and oddly felt like a morbid love letter. Yet, before he could even dwell the connotations of that, red light exploded from the blade, throwing his hair up as a breeze filled the room. Immediately, he shouted in pain because the wound had reopened on his hand and something was wringing against it … licking it and tasting his flesh.

Jim barked in surprise and tried to fling the blade away, but it was fused to his hand. He immediately tried to pry it off instead, but he just felt a hard prick like something was biting into him. Figuring that was the only warning he was going to get, Jim grabbed his wrist and tried to bear it. This was a spell and he had to finish it. Almost immediately, the biting stalled though the licking continued. Jim wasn't sure if it was three minutes or an hour, but he was left sitting on his knees shaking in disgust. He lost count of how many times he had to swallow the bile rising in his throat.

Finally, after a millennium, the morbid feeling stalled. There were a few more quick bites and then the knife was consumed in red magic, the very edge of the blade turning blue like the hottest of flames. Jim closed his eyes, wondering if he would feel the heat of those magic flames and if his screams would echo, but then it was over, a thunk echoing in the room as the blade fell back into the bowl.

Pulling his hand into his chest, the need to puke still there, Jim opened his eyes and was drawn back. There, in a bed of Gumm-Gumm sand, was his pocket knife, but it was different. It was much longer now, more akin to a hunting blade than a pocket knife. It was also red inlaid like it had taken notes from Eclipse and did its best to impersonate it.

And, despite being red and not blue like his amulet, Jim knew it was his.

Releasing his cut hand from his chest, he almost grabbed for the blade as if to welcome it home. He stalled though, disgusted by the feeling and the memory of how it was made. Immediately, he looked at the palm of his hand and was taken aback. He could see the long diagonal cut he had made, but it was puckered shut, little pricks here and there … as if it had been bitten shut.

Wincing at the thought that his blade somehow not only had some unseen tongue but needle-like teeth, Jim glanced at the boundary band on his wrist and reminded himself once more that there was a reason for all of this. This wasn't some gross curiosity. He had a reason for doing this and it would be done.

Regaining his composure, he leaned forward and picked up the renewed blade. It really did look like a more dagger-like version of Eclipse, but the way it hummed in his hand was different. Odd yet not unwelcome.

Nodding at the feel of the knife in his hand, Jim brought the tip of the blade to his wrists, hissing out loud, "Goodbye tacky troll jewelry. You will not be missed."

It was almost funny how smoothly the boundary band came off, crumbling away like dust.

XXX

Paw07: Well, that last section was kind of horrific … but it kind of seems on par when this fics sinks into some slightly dark aspects. XD