Bet you never expected this. Happy New Years!
Zalu hobbled over towards the river, stooping down on one leg with his waterskin in hand. He had to keep just the right balance, or else he'd be tail over teakettle into a particularly frigid river. Why did all of Duskwood have to be cold? Was it the lack of sunlight? Whatever. He bit his lip, slowly wetting the skin. Then he gave a faint smile of relief when at last the skin was filled.
But his smile was like a lure. Like an anchor of bad omens. No sooner had he lifted the filled waterskin when suddenly he felt a foot at his backside. He only had time to widen his eyes before he crashed face-first into the water. His face slammed into the rocky riverbed painfully. His first thought was worry for his tusks.
But then he remembered he didn't have them anymore.
Zalu grasped desperately at the grass beside the river, pulling himself out from the river with a sputtering cough. He scowled fiercely up at the laughing troll before him.
"Oh, look at ya face!" Jumi howled with laughter, "Bet ya got a big surprise, eh?!"
"Just shut up, ya dried up old windbag," Zalu snarled, dragging himself out of the river.
Jumi's laughter faded at once and he kicked hard at Zalu's chest, nearly pushing him back into the water. In fact, he was nearly flung back from the current, too. Zalu glanced down at the grass, knowing his grip had faltered, and rose his eyebrows in surprise. The grass blades now wrapped around his arm in vines, tethering him to the bank. Seeing this, Zalu frowned, silently pulling himself out of the water. Then he threw his back down against the riverbank, adding another cough for good measure.
"What in da name of da Loa is ya problem?" Zalu asked Jumi, looking up at him, "Ya always kickin' me 'round like a dog. Nah, even a dog got it better."
"Then become one, little druid," Jumi sneered, making quotations with his fingers, "Or ya just lyin' to sound like ya somebody important?"
"Don'tcha push ya own problems on me, old man," Zalu huffed.
Feeling the grass release his arm, he quickly crossed them over his chest, which still bore a footprint. He scowled up at the sky along the border between Duskwood and Elwynn Forest, and suddenly felt nostalgic for Moonglade. It brought up thoughts of his older brother, and everything he had warned him about. About their father-no, he didn't even deserve that word. He was just a crazy old troll not worth the tiniest footnote in the annals of history. He didn't even deserve a name. No wonder he'd never earned a full one.
"Ya just as bad as Zami said," Zalu muttered, glaring up at the man leaning over him, "Never shoulda left dat boat wit ya. Dumbest thing I ever done in my whole stupid life."
"Oh yeah?" Jumi hissed, narrowing his eyes, "Well ya know what I think?"
"I don't care what ya think, windbag," Zalu scoffed, "Prolly just more hot air 'bout how ya single-handedly slayed Ragnaros, eh? All lies wit ya. Can't ever say nothin' real cause ya ain't never done nothin' real in ya whole life, yeah? Just a nobody who don't got nothin' to-"
"I think," Jumi leaned over, "What ya just said now was actually the dumbest thing in ya whole stupid life."
Zalu perked an eyebrow as Jumi suddenly shoved his arms onto Zalu's shoulders, ramming him into the river. Zalu gave a choked gasp, half-inhaling water as he was plunged below the surface of the water. He flailed and thrashed as Jumi held his shoulders below the water. Zalu already had more than a few near-drowning experiences with the old man already, and there was always this insane glee in his eyes as he watched his son struggle to hold onto his life. But now? Now there was nothing in his eyes but pure malice.
And that meant this wasn't going to be a near-drowning experience this time. Not if Jumi had his way.
Zalu grabbed at Jumi's hands, which moved up to his throat and began to strangle him under the water. Talk about insult to injury! But Zalu had a trick up his sleeve. If Jumi wanted to play that way, then that was it. No more holding back. Who cares who this guy was? All of Azeroth would be better if he was laying in a ditch somewhere. So, Zalu figured, why not do something for others for once in his pathetic life?
Zalu moved his hand up, smashing his fist into the inside of one of Jumi's elbows. It caused his arm to falter, making his grip slacken on Zalu's throat momentarily. Zalu rose his own hand up, grasping onto Jumi's tusk tightly. He yanked downward, bringing the old troll's face right before his, keeping them both held under the water. Jumi struggled to break free, but Zalu held fast, his other hand moving up to grasp at the other tusk, holding him in place like he was holding prison bars.
And, in a way, it felt like he was. It didn't matter anymore if he died himself. As long as he took out this madman with him. Jumi's grip now fully moved up to grab onto Zalu's hands, trying to pry his hands away to free himself. Funny, how much the tables had turned. And even more, it played right into Zalu's plan. His eyes bored into his sad sack of a father's, and he could see the fear rising. Good, good. Now just wait for the big finale, Zalu thought to himself, reveling in the growing panic of Jumi's gestures. He waited for that moment, that split second where he felt like all hope was lost.
And then he released both Jumi's tusks at once, causing him to fly backwards. He landed on his back against the riverbank, coughing and sputtering. How the tables turned indeed. Zalu sat up, sucking in a deep breath, and brought himself onto all fours. Well, three's. Jumi was too distracted with catching his breath to notice. Because of course he was. Always put himself first, even to the end.
The old troll only had a moment to look up and cry out in fear, a shriek so opposing the image of the tough and unconquerable warrior from his tall tales. It was the scream of someone who knew their time was up. And, oh yes, how it was.
Zalu wouldn't draw it out. He wouldn't waste time, let the old man weasel out of it. He'd do what Zami couldn't. And he'd do it his way.
Zalu roared, his primal scream echoing out in the night, before sinking his teeth deep into Jumi's throat. The troll screamed until his throat was hoarse, but it didn't matter. Zalu just ground his teeth. Down, down, down. His jagged stumps of what were once tusks dug into the soil below him as Jumi thrashed for his life. Thrashed in vain.
It didn't matter.
Nothing mattered.
When the body stilled, Zalu finally drew himself away. He looked down at the lifeless troll below him, blood and gore dripping from his ursine fangs. His lungs heaved, the burning panic of nearly drowning finally catching up to him. He sat back in the grass beside the corpse, his body shrinking and fur fading. He watched as the claws rescinded, replaced with shaking fingertips. Then he finally looked over at the corpse. Really looked at it. All that was left of Jumi, the man he'd previously called his father.
He was ripped open, ribcage smashed and shattered, tusks broken, eyes rolled back in his head, jaw sagging. It was a mess. Jumi was nothing more than a stain. A useless heap of flesh. Then again, was he ever more than that? Was he ever really?
Zalu looked at the body for a moment longer, and slowly an unhinged smile formed upon his blood-drenched lips. Then he threw back his head wildly, crashing back into the ground.
And he laughed.
