Jim's side ached, but he refused to claim one of the few chairs available. Others had suffered worse.
He stood between his mom and Claire, Blinky behind him. The rest of his friends scattered through the crowd, standing with family or with those who had no family.
Coach Lawrence, even though he leaned on a crutch, and one leg of his gym shorts hung empty, stood with Steve's mom. Others were missing arms, hands, eyes, feet. It was a wonder more hadn't died.
International news channels still carried stories of the three Titans who'd walked Earth, heading for the little California town of Arcadia Oaks, but Douxie's illusion spell—an effort aided by Zoe—kept outsiders from seeing the devastation unless allowed.
The officiant kept his composure, though his eyes darted to each troll, alien, and wizard in attendance multiple times throughout the proceedings.
At the front, Nancy Domzalski, Toby's Nana, stood beside Varvatos Vex—in human form, complete with his cane. Varvatos' arm was around Nana's shoulders as the old woman sobbed into a soaked hankie. With them stood Darcie Scott, Toby's girlfriend, also distraught.
Toby's wasn't the first funeral of the evening. Others lost in the battle had their memorials earlier as crowds filled the cemetery, but this funeral was the most well-attended. It wouldn't surprise Jim if the whole town was here—human and non-human denizens alike.
Many spoke of Toby's bravery, his kindness, his enthusiasm for good food and friendship.
Darcie sobbed through many memories before she couldn't go on, and her father gently ushered her back to the front row.
AAARRRGGHH! was next to last to speak. The huge troll lumbered to the front, eyes on the ground, stone hands clenched in front of his moss green beard. Even his stubby ears drooped. "Wingman… Toby… was a good friend. If not for Wingman, AAARRRGGHH! would not be himself—would not be here at all."
Behind Jim, Blinky sniffed, trying not to bawl, but when AAARRRGGHH! recounted Toby's compassion while AAARRRGGHH! was dying of Creeper's Sun poison, Blinky wailed and covered his six eyes with all four hands.
Identical sentiments swept through the crowd, and soon no one, even the officiant, remained dry-eyed.
Jim was last to speak. Claire gave his arm a squeeze before he headed to the front.
He pulled a crisp 3x5 notecard from his pocket. Scrawled phrases lined the paper, but none of them seemed appropriate now. He put the card away. "Toby didn't just think about being a hero." Jim's voice cracked, and he had to stop for a ten count. "Toby became one."
The cemetery filled with sobs and murmurs of agreement.
"He was my best friend, and I don't know what I'm going to do without him." Jim's throat closed before he could say more. The crowd parted for him to return to his mother, Claire, and a still wailing Blinky.
The officiant waited for the crowd to quiet. "It's clear this warm, loving young man will be missed, but it is also clear he left behind something of himself, and everyone here treasures it. May his memory be a blessing."
As the service closed and poll bearers moved Toby's casket to the burial plot, Jim tried his hardest to get ready for the next memorial, for his mom's sake.
Some left between Toby's burial and Nomura and Strickler's memorial, but many stayed. The two changelings had long served Gunmar the Black, but both had changed since Jim's appointment as Trollhunter, and both died protecting those they loved, and protecting Arcadia and everyone on Earth.
As family—or near family—of the deceased, Jim and his mom took their places at the front. NotEnrique stood with them for Nomura.
There were no bodies to display as what little remained of both was scattered to the wind or buried beneath Greenland's ice, but the trolls had fashioned statues of both Strickler and Nomura and set them at the front.
Nomura's statue brandished her twin blades, battle-ready. Strickler's was less aggressive, but just as purposeful. He wore a suit, as he had in human form, and in one hand lay an ancient volume, open.
Blinky oversaw this memorial. "Whoever wishes may offer a few words in memory of the departed."
People Jim didn't even know flocked to form a line. Some were Nomura's former coworkers at the museum, others were former students of Mr. Strickler or teachers who once served on staff with him. Even a waitress at the local café was there and told how Mr. Strickler once slipped her a hefty tip after overhearing she couldn't make rent.
Tears rolled down Jim's mom's face and left damp patches on her brown sweater. Her hand tucked into the crook of his arm and gripped a little tighter after each testimony until her engagement band dug into his forearm, but he didn't complain.
Two hours later, when the line dissipated, NotEnrique came forward. He hopped atop the crook of Blinky's staff so more than the first two rows could see him. "Nomura was a pain in me rear." NotEnrique's ears drooped, and even the line of scruff that ran down his back seemed to wilt. "But she was me friend. We was kin in a way—both freaks. But she always knew what she was gonna do when stuff went wrong. Never sat by the sidelines and moped about it, jus' got up and did somethin'. I've already got me a big sis," he directed a sad smile to Claire, "but if I was to 'ave an aunt, it woulda been Nomura."
The crowd nodded appreciation for NotEnrique's words as he hopped down.
Now it was time.
Strickler's last wish was that Jim take care of his mother. Jim intended to honor that wish.
When his mom took a step forward, Jim went with her. He kept her hand—still around his arm—close. His grip steadied her shaking but couldn't erase it.
They faced the crowd.
A hush covered the gathering as Jim's mother stood beside Mr. Strickler's statue. In a surprisingly steady voice, Barbara Lake spoke. "Once, I hated this man. He tried to kill my son—probably more times than I'm aware of. Then, I forgot him—literally. To save my life, a dear troll named Vendel had to take my memory. I was glad for it then, but when my memory returned, I wondered how I could ever have forgotten Walter Strickler and what he'd done. Instead of facing me, he left Arcadia Oaks, but I'll never forget the day he came back, standing on my doorstep, Pinot Noir in hand, ready for the tongue lashing of his life. But instead, I slammed the door. His face print's probably still on the glass." She swallowed hard and forced a chuckle. "He tried to make up for what he'd done, show me he was different, but for a while, I wouldn't have it, not until my son left for New Jersey in the company of trolls. Then, it was just us, taking care of a host of children kidnapped over hundreds of years."
Jim had wondered what became of the changelings' familiars since their rescue from the Darklands.
"Walt and I made sure each one who couldn't return home was placed with a loving family. By then, I'd fallen for him, a lot harder than expected. Walt started out as a monster on the inside, and human on the outside." She laid her free hand on the statue's shoulder. "But in the end, he was human at heart." To the statue, she whispered, "I love you, Walt. I always will." She laid a kiss on his stone cheek and returned to the front row.
"Thanks for going with me, kiddo," she whispered to Jim. The tremble in her hands was gone, replaced by a weariness Jim understood.
Blinky stepped forward. "On behalf of these two," he gestured simultaneously to Strickler and Nomura, "I thank you for your many kind words." Staff in two hands, Blinky bowed his head. "We honor these who gave themselves so we might live. They were… my friends, and I will miss them dearly." He planted his staff in the dirt directly in front of him. "I will lead the Rhok-Naag—a traditional dirge. If our human and Akiridion friends wish to join us, they are welcome."
Eyes shut, Blinky swung his staff in elaborate twirls and twists as he sang. The strand of Christmas lights that circled the staff sparkled in the glow of a few lanterns hung on poles near the front of the gathering. Troll voices of all kinds joined Blinky's rumbling baritone. Even NotEnrique sang.
Jim understood some of it, thanks to Blinky's tutelage, and he joined them on the last refrain.
When the Rhok-Naag ended, four trolls, each larger than three men, hefted the statues reverently and prepared to take them to Trollmarket, where they would stand in memoriam after the Trolls moved the remnants of the Heartstone back into place.
Everyone respectfully waited to disperse until the statues were out of the cemetery.