"So let me get this straight..."

Jim was the first to speak in the living room full of confused humans, Changelings, and trolls alike. With this new "development" regarding Nomura, a meeting had to be called.

"The Heartstone's acting up, we've got portals opening and closing at random, and some Changelings can shift between their human and troll selves again?"

Everyone shared awkward stares, shrugs, and nods.

"That would be an accurate reading of the situation, yes." Blinky confirmed, Aaarrrgghh nodding solemnly in agreement.

Wonderful. What else can the universe throw at them? Jim inhaled deeply, then rubbed his temples. "Okay. Yeah. That's fine. This is fine." He lied to himself. "Deeefinitely have this under control..."

Barbara took a look at the Changelings in the room, Nomura being the only one in human form at the moment. "And none of you can connect to your familiars like you usually do?"

"Appears that way. None of my Glimpses work." Confirmed Nomura.

"I've hooked a loogie at sis's mirror like three times now. Nothin'." NotEnrique said, Claire giving him a look after realizing that's why her mirror has been all gross and slimy today.

"It's called catoptromancy." Strickler corrected. "It's a specific form of mirror divination that-"

"Hook a loogie." Nomura repeated over him. NotEnrique shot her some finger guns and an 'eeyyy'.

Merlin rolled his eyes. Why do these Changelings get taken seriously? "Obviously, this is the work of Morgana. The Changelings are Her creation, after all." He announced, looking around. "Who has been monitoring those portal locations?"

Toby was already pulling out a laptop as Merlin spoke. "I've got all of them livestreaming on here, on my computer at home, one down in Trollmarket... Trust me, If anything happens there, we'll know."

Jim looked to Angor. "And the map you and Claire worked out of all the locations the staff's been heavily used, you're sure it's accurate?"

"Within the borders of Arcadia, yes." Angor said, Claire spreading their work across the coffee table. Angor's eye pointed to the map, Jim following his stare. "The Skathe-Hrün has been used all around your world over thousands of years. This map is as recent as my last summons." There was a glance between him and Strickler for a quick second, but it was just as quickly broken off.

The next one to speak was Nomura, thought her calmer tone from before has been replaced with something more hostile as she glared at Angor Rot. "And we should take your word for that, should we?" She hissed. "Not conveniently leaving out any details that could lead to your Queen's escape?"

At that, Angor gave her a look formed out of confusion and annoyance. Jim spoke before he could, though.

"Cut him some slack, Nomura." Said the Trollhunter, "He's just trying to help."

Nomura snorted. "We need his help like a hole in the head." Looking away she added under her breath, but loudly enough for everyone to hear, "Or a knife to the chest."

That was probably the quickest way to silence a room Nomura could've done.

You could hear Jim gritting his teeth in the silence.

Toby picked up on the tension just like everyone else, and he loudly cleared his throat, "Well hey, look at it this way..." He said, "I don't think we'd really have the money to plant security cams all over the world, sooo..."

"T.P.'s right." Claire was immediately on board with changing that topic. "Arcadia's pretty much all we can cover, anyway. Besides, I bet we'll hear about it if mysterious giant black vortexes start materializing in people's living rooms outside of Arcadia."

Both Toby and Claire looked to Jim, both out of concern and for backup. Jim was quiet for a long moment.

Tense.

"... I agree. Arcadia's been where everything happens anyways." He finally said, then looked at Toby. "How are they looking?"

"Mmmm..." Toby pressed a few keys, made a few clicks, and pulled up all their camera feeds. "Still nothing so far."

Jim took a slow breath in. "... Okay. Just... leave that computer for the people here to watch." He said. "We'll just keep doing what we can while we figure out how to stop them."

Nobody said anything when Jim got up and left the room.

Tension still hung heavy in the air, mostly between the subtle staring contest going on between Nomura and Angor.

"Ahem... Nomura..." Strickler spoke up, quite easily having picked up on the resentment between the two, "Perhaps now would be a good time to call your associates in New York to explain why you missed your flight."

Nomura held eye contact with the troll. Strickler almost thought she hadn't even heard him, until she spoke. "Yeah, yeah." She said, finally turning her head. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and patted Strickler on the shoulder while walking past him. A reassurance, of sorts, that she wouldn't start any trouble... or so her intention was, anyways.

When she left the room, Angor's gaze fell to Strickler. The Changeling awkwardly adjusted the collar of his sweater.

"I'll... get in contact with other members of the Janus Order to see how many other Changelings it's affected..." He said to Barbara before leaving, any excuse to get out of there being one Strickler would take. Barbara nodded and departed as well, probably to go check on Jim.

Angor Rot snorted, then looked to the remaining humans and trolls in the room, mainly Toby and Claire. "Is my presence still needed?"

"Oh, uh-" Claire stuttered, "No no, you're... fine to go, I think..."

That being that, Angor was next to take his leave, frankly looking forward to spending some time away from this hectic group. That left Blinky, Aaarrrgghh, Merlin, Toby and Claire. Oh, and NotEnrique, who hopped up on his sister's shoulder.

"Well," The Changeling spoke up, "If that wasn't the most awkward meeting I ever seen in my life..."

Claire sighed. "You've got that right..." She agreed. It's not like anybody could help all the high-running tension around here. Everything about everything is stressful and complicated.

Well, that's not really true. Some people could try being a little more civil. At this point Claire was just wishing to see a bed soon.

"NotEnrique, why don't you try turning human?" Claire said, then added a laugh. "Enrique could have a twin!"

"Ehh, I'm good, kid." NotEnrique replied, smirking. "I like having good motor functioning skills."

"Well..." Merlin spoke next, tiring of the ever-growing pointlessness of this conversation, and Blinky rolling his eyes at the voice he found so annoying. "If everyone is taking their leave now, I have other matters to attend to."

"Such as?" Blinky asked, squinting suspiciously at the wizard as he walked towards the back door.

Paying Blinky's cynicism no mind, Merlin just said, "I want to see these 'portal' locations myself. Following a... 'hunch', you could say."

"What hunch?" The curious Aaarrrgghh asked while cocking his head to the side.

Merlin only chuckled, looking back at them all once more just before leaving the house. "I'll let you know once I see how it goes."

The group watched him go, Blinky rolling his eyes again at the wizard's vagueness this time. "Oh sure, tell us later, it's not like this is gravely important information we're working with here..." He muttered after Merlin left.

"If he checks out our house, he better not go into my room." Claire squinted. She then looked at Toby, who'd been unusually quiet for a while there.

Toby's attention was shifted elsewhere. Namely, looking off in the direction Jim went. Claire followed his stare.

"... D'you think he's okay...?" Toby said, his voice quieter than before.

Claire bit her lip. "... Yeah... Yeah, I think he's just..." She paused. "... stressed..."

A relatable feeling, to be sure. Toby looked down at his laptop screen again. "Yeah..."

Blinky and Aaarrrgghh exchanged looks with each other. Blinky then walked over to where they were sitting and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. "It's been another long day for you all." He said. "It's best you get another decent rest. Deya knows the days will only get longer."

Toby sighed, but, he did spot a moment to lighten the mood again. Putting a cheeky smile on his face, he said, "This coming from the guy that slept eight minutes a day when you were human?"

Claire snorted at that, and Blinky looked so offended, scoffing, "Well excuse me, Tobias, I did not have much experience in your species' fleshy body before!"

"You can say that again!" NotEnrique piped up, grinning like a little devil. "For future reference, yer human body ain't goin'ta survive off of straight whipped cream!"

"Hopefully I won't need a future reference!" Blinky shot back. "I'm not planning on picking up any more cursed artifacts, thank you!"

At this point they were all getting a good chuckle out of it.

"Well, if it's all the same with you guys..." Claire yawned, giving her arms a good stretch, "... I definitely will be needing more than eight minutes of sleep."

"I feel ya, sister." Agreed the Changeling on her shoulder, and Toby nodded too, but then he gasped.

"Oh, but I should stay and keep an eye on the livestreams-" He started to say, but Blinky spoke up instead.

"Worry not, young Tobias, Aaarrrgghh and I will take turns watching them for tonight." Blinky assured him, a soft smile on his face. "You three go, get your sleep."

Claire and Toby said their 'Thank-you's, Toby exchanging a fist bump with Aaaarrrgghh as they passed each other, and went off to prepare themselves for ages of sleep.

Blinky waved them off, then his attention turned to the computer. "Now then..." He said, sitting down at the couch and squinting all six eyes at the screen, "Let us see what tonight brings us..."

.

But what the night brought them, was another night of dead silence in the area of portal activity. Not a sound, not even a flicker of shadowy magic formed on any of the screens.

When they first got back to Arcadia, fearsome vortexes were popping up like crazy. Now... there's been next to nothing.

Whether that was a good sign or a bad one, nobody could be sure.

.

Many thick, grey clouds brewed in the sky this morning, blotching out even the strongest rays of sun. It was enough, even, for a troll to wander freely.

Perfect for training.

"If this going to be another waste of time like last time..." Dictatious grumbled, reluctant as he followed Angor Rot to the backyard, "... then I'm going back to bed."

Angor rolled his eye at the other's complaints. Those, he hopes will stay to a minimum today. "It will not be like last time," He assured Dictatious. He led him out into the yard, then stepped away. "but, that ordeal was anything but a waste."

"Were you even watching?" Dictatious grumpily huffed, crossing one set of arms.

"Yes. Closely." Angor started to circle him. Dictatious, unnerved by the familiar action, tried to follow the other's movements through squinting eyes. "It brought to my attention two things."

"And what might those things be."

"Firstly, you crumble under pressure." Angor explained. "You had been improving yesterday, even if it was only in minute proportions. But you still ended up giving in."

"Well, if you would consider that I maybe, just maybe, I don't appreciate being used as a punching bag-"

Angor snorted. "You must be a clever troll, to have made your way up so high in Gunmar's ranks with such a lack in combat ability."

That brought a bite to Dictatious's voice. "There are more ways to be valuable than just brute force."

Angor seemed to have hit a nerve. Maybe that shouldn't have brought such a smirk to his face, but it mattered not, considering his sightless company. "Oh, I know that very well." He said. "But it seemed 'brute force' was all Gunmar knew."

Through narrowing eyes, Dictatious growled lowly, "He was more than that. You didn't know him as I did."

Angor's eye narrowed right back at him. "You sound more defensive than I'd expect of someone who tried to murder you."

Now, Dictatious's eyes did a big roll. "You said there were two things you noticed about last time." He said, clearly moving away from that subject. "Care to fill me in on the second part?"

Angor was dubiously silent for a good few moments, hardened look in his eye not going away. "… Secondly." He eventually continued, "You still rely on your eyes. You were trying to follow my movements visually the whole time when you should have been utilizing your other senses." Then Angor raised an eyebrow. "And you're doing it now, too."

Against that, Dictatious couldn't argue. Would that stop his bitterness? No, definitely not. But he did avert his gaze. "I've been using my eyes my whole life. It's not exactly an easy habit to break." He huffed, rolling the aforementioned eyes again. "I'm sorry that's such an inconvenience to you."

"You have been blind for months. It's time for you to correct that habit." Angor said. "Close your eyes."

Dictatious squinted, skepticism of his company showing through the fog in his pupils.

Angor gave a short sigh. "Even if this was going to be combat training, your damaged vision wouldn't help you regardless." He pointed out. "Just close your eyes."

Still seeming reluctant, but conceding with a sigh, Dictatious closed his eyes. "There. Happy?"

Angor rolled his eye, but was already growing used to ignoring this troll's salt-filled demeanour.

"What do you hear?"

"You talking."

… How observant.

"Aside from that." Angor rumbled.

Dictatious frowned, annoyed, but his ears did perk up as he tried to listen for anything else. "I don't know... birds, I suppose?"

Angor raised a brow. "Just birds?"

The smaller troll huffed in annoyance. Again, his ears twitched, trying to focus. "Well, there's..." He drawled... "... the wind, of course, and... I believe a neighbour's dog barking..."

Angor Rot nodded slowly, silently walking around Dictatious as he listed off the little auditory details he could notice. Though, there were a few short moments where Dictatious's eyes would peer open for a second or two, trying to keep "watch" of his less-than-trustworthy company, Angor figured. Unsurprisingly, it was in these moments that Dictatious would lose focus of the other noises around them. But aside from that, he was paying attention to detail fairly well.

"Do you see now how much of your surroundings you can distinguish with your ears alone?" Angor spoke up when Dictatious was running out of things to list. "Notice how much you did not catch at first?"

"I... suppose..." Dictatious agreed, though halfheartedly.

"Hearing, smell, touch, these are all things you will have to use in place of your eyes." Angor went on. "You need to make better use of them than you are, make them a second nature."

What Angor said was reasonable enough. Dictatious remained leerily silent, though. That was fine by Angor - at least silence means he isn't getting any objections. "And, Dictatious..." He continued, "... you're only slowing your progress down by continuing to try and rely on sight that you don't have-"

"Okay! I get it!" Dictatious snapped at him. Seriously, they've been over this already. "Are you going to belittle me every time I fall on old instincts?!"

"No..." Angor said, raising a brow, "... I was going to make a suggestion."

Dictatious's head tilted slightly to a mix of confusion and curiosity, his cloudy eyes squinting suspiciously.

Should he be worried about what Angor has in mind?

.

"Remind me again why I'm letting you do this."

Dictatious couldn't say he felt the most at ease, what with this particular troll tying things onto his face.

"There will be no attacks today." Angor Rot replied, taking care in wrapping the blindfold around Dictatious's head. "I assure you."

The smaller troll scoffed in response. "You say that as if I have any level of trust in you."

"Yet you are still here. Willingly." Angor pointed out. "Think of it this way. If you find that I am lying about this, then at least you will know not to trust me in the future."

"Oh wow." Dryly and sarcastically as ever, Dictatious scoffed again, "That's so comforting."

Angor brushed off the sarcasm, as he was sure would become the norm when spending time with this troll. He finished tying the blindfold and stepped back. "How is it?"

"Well, it covers my eyes, if that's what you're wondering." Dictatious answered. "Congratulations, you've successfully blinded a blind troll."

More sarcasm to brush off. Unsurprising.

"Then, let's try this again."

.

They were at it for longer than Dictatious thought necessary. 'What, was Angor expecting different results out of the same old soundscape every time? I'd just be listing off the same noises over and over again,' he'd thought to himself.

Yet, that wasn't the case.

Somehow, Angor managed to come up with new exercises each time. Lest that be altering their soundscape with little sorcery parlour tricks, identifying how close or far some noises are, things of that sort.

"Remembering to do all of this all the time feels like an impossible task…" Dictatious sighed.

"It just takes practice." Angor continued. "For now, let's-"

"'Ey!"

Their attentions were caught by NotEnrique shouting at them from the kitchen window.

"Unless ya wanna get sunned to death," The Changeling called over, "then get back inside, ya fruitloops! The forecast's sayin' the clouds're gonna clear!"

Dictatious snickered. "Well, looks like that puts a strain on your plans today." He said to Angor upon hearing this news.

Angor was quiet, thoughtful for a moment. "Hmm... Not necessarily." He said, then looked to NotEnrique. "Should anyone ask of our whereabouts, we will be in town."

"... Kay?" NotEnrique replied. He watched the two of them leave the yard, then went back inside, mumbling as he closed the window, "Weirdos..."

.

Also confused, but still following the other troll, Dictatious asked, "What exactly do you plan on getting accomplished in town that can't be done here?"

"There is much that can be accomplished with a change of environment." Angor pointed out. "Though, for today, we will keep things simple."

And a simple task it was. Basically, all Angor wanted him to do was to keep pointing out auditory surroundings he noticed while they walked around. Dictatious almost would've thought he was joking, but he was quickly starting to note the fact that this troll has probably never joked even once in his life.

While there was nothing particularly exciting to note sound-wise, Dictatious had to admit that he was noticing a lot more about their surroundings as compared to the last time they roamed Arcadia's streets. Angor kept him talking, mostly about what he heard, but also if he noticed any smells or felt anything as they went on, lest it be exhaust from cars passing by, the slightest vibrations in the ground from passing cars or construction workers nearby, how much of passing conversations he could overhear from strangers, basically anything that moved or made noise, Angor wanted to hear it from him. When considering all these sensory details at once, it can almost be a little overwhelming... Maybe Angor had a point about all this "extra listening" talk.

,

"Where would you say we are now?" Angor asked.

Three out of the four (now five) times Angor had Dictatious guess their location, he'd guessed incorrectly. Dictatious, at this point, was getting tired of this question. He sighed, but still took his time to try and focus.

It sounded like people were passing by behind them every so often, and there were for sure cars passing in front of them... seemed pretty close, too.

"... At a crosswalk?" Dictatious guessed.

"Correct." Angor confirmed. Making sure it was clear, he led Dictatious through the street. "You have been doing well."

"Beg your pardon?" Dictatious scoffed as he pulled up the blindfold for a bit. "Maybe it's your observational skills we should be testing."

"You think I'm wrong?" Asked Angor. He added quickly, "Mind the curb," as he led the other again onto a sidewalk.

"Well, there's a good example right there..." Dictatious muttered, carefully stepping over the ledge as Angor watched closely. He's already stumbled a number of times by now, would definitely have fallen had he lacked Angor's aid. It gets frustrating. "I've only been barely passable in terms of having any idea what's around me, and even just that feels erroneous to say..."

"Not so."

Somewhat annoyed at this point, Dictatious cast Angor a tired look at that disagreement. Angor only shrugged. "We've only just started in turning this into a more critical skill for you. It's clear you have not had this extent of practice before, because you're obviously not used to it. It's to be expected that you'll make mistakes." He explained. "In truth, I was actually expecting this to go worse."

"I can't tell if that's an insult or a compliment."

"Neither. It's an observation." Angor said simply. He then looked at Dictatious with confusion. "... What is wrong with your face?"

Dictatious may not have realized how hard he was squinting at Angor in his leeriness. It's just been strange, is all, how much differently the taller troll has been acting since the last time they were together. If Dictatious didn't know any better, he'd almost say that this was Angor Rot being… nice.

He looked away.

"Nothing's wrong with it." He huffed, rolling his eyes and fiddling with the blindfold in his hands. "Where are we off to now? Am I to put this back on?"

"Hmm." Angor paused for a moment, looking around. "No. We may as well start heading back."

For some time, they walked without a word said between them.

Maybe it was Dictatious's imagination, but Angor seemed to be walking a little slower than he was earlier today.

Maybe it had been his imagination, but he could hear the rustling of leaves nearby, despite it being a windless day.

... And maybe it was Dictatious's imagination, but he could swear that he heard...

"Correct me if I'm wrong," He spoke up, sounding skeptical, "but has somebody been following us?"

"I was wondering when you'd notice."

Both trolls stopped in their tracks and turned around. Off in the sunlight, maybe about ten feet away from them, were the same two teenage boys Angor noticed following them the last time he and Dictatious had been in town. Angor was the first to speak, his eye narrowing suspiciously.

"If there is something you have to say to us, fleshbags," He growled, "then say it."

The two boys seemed rattled about being caught, but the taller of the two managed to keep his composure, clearing his throat. "No, uh, nothin' to say," He said, eyes shifty, "Just haven't seen you two around before."

"You, eh, you living around here?" The other one asked.

Something about these humans didn't sit right with Angor Rot. Something about their voices, or their shifty gazes... Perhaps that was just due to them being unfamiliar, and Dictatious couldn't say he recognized their voices either, but...

"... Temporarily." Angor eventually answered, very intentionally keeping it vague. His eye narrowed further. "For what reason did you waste an hour of your lives just to follow us?"

Wait, they'd been following them around for an hour? Dictatious supposed he was too distracted earlier to notice any consistent footsteps behind them, but still...

The teens looked just as surprised that Angor had actually noticed them for that long. They stared at each other, unsure of what kind of excuse to come up with. "Uhhhh..." One drawled, clearly not able to produce any sort of answer. "... Curiosity?"

Angor rolled his eye. "Feed your 'curiosity' elsewhere." He rumbled. "Your continued shadowing is not welcome."

To both Angor and Dictatious's surprise, the two humans that had just been showing nervousness before suddenly started laughing.

"I mean, you can't really stop us." The taller one spoke again, his voice taking on a snide tone, "We know you can't come into the sunlight. We don't have to listen to you."

Even Dictatious cringed at that. He had the feeling it wasn't a good idea to exactly... challenge this particular troll... and the fact that Angor was being deathly silent as he stared the humans down probably wasn't a good sign...

"You're right. I can't come into the sunlight." Angor agreed, his own voice growing dangerously malicious in response to the human's sneer. Both children's eyes widened when they saw him pull a knife out of one of the sheaths in his attire. "But my aim, I promise you, is more than enough to make up for..."

Angor didn't even bother finishing the threat. The humans already were running off quicker than a Stalkling divebombing its prey, and twice as loud. With another roll of the eye and an unimpressed snort at their dramatics, Angor just kept walking.

"While I'm not against making threats to fleshbags..." Dictatious said, raising a brow, "... was that necessary?"

"I'm not partial to the thought of wasting my time entertaining the pointless antics of such ignorant whelps." Angor said, mildly annoyed. "We are not their game. They should know now not to stalk us as though we are."

"… Fair enough."

.

"Ah! You're back! How'd it go?"

Toby greeted the two trolls basically as soon as they opened the door. He and Blinky were standing by some shelves by the wall - looked like the redhead was showing Blinky how to use Nana's old radio.

"Nothing in particular to note." Angor answered as he led Dictatious to the couch. "He did well."

Dictatious rolled his eyes as he plopped into the seat. "That's a matter of opinion." He grumbled. "I didn't even notice the pair of fleshbags following us for an hour."

"They were, I admit, stealthy... for humans, at least."

"Wait, some people were following you?" Toby asked, sudden curiosity in his voice as he walked closer to the pair. "Why?"

"Unsure."

At that point, Blinky had looked over with curiosity too. "A pair of them, you say?" He said. "Was one taller with baggy attire and black-haired, the other a brunet with a grey hoodie tied around his waist?"

Everybody looked Blinky's way. "Yes. Exactly." Angor confirmed. "You know them?"

"Well, not personally," Blinky said, fiddling around with some switches, "but I noticed them the other day, following Aaarrrgghh and I as well. Perhaps they are curious about our kind."

Dictatious sent a squinty stare his brother's way, head tilting to the side in confusion. "What are you even doing, brother?"

"Ah, young Tobias was just showing me how to this quaint device works!" Blinky explained, "I've never seen a radio of this model before…"

When Blinky attempted to change the station knob, he accidentally pinched the volume knob instead and cranked up the volume suddenly.

The startled Blinky stumbled back as a loud voice sang through the speakers the very worst possible song Blinky could have let play.

~BLINDED BY THE LIGHT~

Dictatious glared in the direction of his brother. Angor looked confused. Toby just looked dead inside.

~REVVED UP LIKE A DEUCE, ANOTHER RUNNER IN THE NIGHT, BLIIINDED BY THE LIGHT~

"Blinkous. If I may point out." Dictatious said flatly over the music, a completely not-impressed expression on his face, "Your joke is in ill taste."

Blinky basically lunged at the volume knob and turned it all the way down, a painfully awkward laugh and shrug being sent his brother's way.

Dictatious just rolled his eyes.

"Aaaanyways," Toby started to change the topic, "While you guys were out, did you happen to see J-"

~BLINDED BY THE LIGHT~

"Seriously, Blinkous?! Really?!"

"It's not me! I just turned it off-"

Over the music, they both could soon hear the obnoxious laughing of NotEnrique from atop the bookshelf. Dictatious sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You know, Changeling, sometimes you can even make being in the Darklands seem more appealing than here."

"Aww, don't make me blush!" NotEnrique sneered back with a cackle.

Angor simply rolled his eye at their bickering. It was when he looked away from them that he noticed Toby starting to leave the room.

"Wasn't there something you wanted to say, Trollhunter?" He asked.

"Oh," Toby glanced back, "Don't mind that. I'll figure it out. Be right back!"

… Hmm. If he says so…

.

The weather was not kind to trolls the next few days either. That is, glaringly sunny.

Toby, gracious as he was (and probably thankful to Angor Rot for having to deal with Dictatious less now), got them to the canals, under the bridge where there was plenty of shade.

"Think this'll be enough space for you guys?" Toby asked,

"This should suffice." Angor assured him, looking around. "Your assistance is appreciated."

"Anytime, my dude! I'll come back in a while to check on you guys!" The human replied. "Don't, uh, don't die, okay?"

"That would be the ideal outcome, wouldn't it." Dictatious said somewhat sarcastically. Nevertheless, Toby ignored the comment and went on his way.

"So. What is on the agenda for today?" Dictatious asked, turning his attention to Angor Rot. The question wasn't laced with any sort of sarcasm this time, but rather genuine curiosity.

A pleasant surprise.

.

"The Conundrums are a species with a naturally stocky build." Angor pointed out as he circled Dictatious . "As such, you should not be as easy to knock over as you are."

Dictatious stayed on edge, head turning from side to side as he followed the sound of Angor's steps. Unlike the last time, there was no promise of being unharmed today, as Angor has made clear with the amount of times he's attacked the other within this hour alone.

"You carry your weight terribly." Angor went on. "It takes very little to topple you."

"Wow, you don't say-"

To both prove his point and cut off Dictatious's sarcastic note, Angor sent him tumbling to the ground with one quick leg sweep, tripping him easily.

Dictatious grunted frustratedly, just laying there. "Wonderful. You have made your point."

Angor helped him back up and said, "I've noticed you can be very tentative when you walk, probably for fear of tripping, am I right?"

Dictatious rolled his eyes, but nodded. "Doesn't take a genius to figure that out."

"You must have confidence in your footwork, Dictatious." Angor said. "Your feet act as the strongest foundation to the rest of your body. You're just setting yourself up for failure."

"So nothing new, then." Dictatious grumbled under his breath.

That comment, Angor did not expect. He blinked, somewhat surprised. "What?"

Dic rolled his eyes again. "Nothing." He huffed. "Care to get to the point?"

Angor raised an eyebrow, but… went back on track. "… Yes. As I was saying." He stepped closer to Dictatious. "Your stance would benefit from a slightly wider space between your feet."

Dictatious tried to adjust accordingly.

"Not too wide. And put your leading foot just a touch back." Angor nodded when the smaller troll corrected himself. "Better. Do you feel steadier standing like this?"

"… I suppose."

Angor went back to circling him. "You should always keep yourself securely grounded in a fight, especially when you're going to be constantly moving." He said. "Not only will it help prevent you from falling, it will also strengthen hits you make against an opponent."

"And you're going to prove that to me, I'm guessing."

"Naturally." Angor too got in a fighting-ready stance. "Nothing more than simple hand-to-hand. Are you ready?"

"That depends on your definition of 'ready'-"

Dictatious barely finished the sentence when a loud *pop* shot through the air. Angor immediately pulled the other troll back, mere milliseconds before a wet, bright-coloured substance splattered all over the ground near them.

"What was that?" Dictatious questioned, startled.

Angor looked from the glaringly red splatter on the ground to the edge of the canal where the shot came from. "Wait." He rumbled lowly to Dictatious, cautious as he stepped closer to the edge of the shade to get a better look.

Wouldn't you know it, Those two annoying human whelps from before stood far up on the rails, a strange-looking (what Angor assumed to be a…?) weapon in the taller one's hands.

Angor couldn't make out what they were saying to each other, but they were obviously laughing.

.

"Shit Kyle, did you hit the scary one?" The smaller boy asked, watching Angor stare at them from the shade of the bridge.

"I dunno, I was aiming for the green guy." His friend replied, loading up his paintball gun. He then laughed at his friend's worried face. "Relax, Brody! I don't care how good the guy says his aim is, there's no way he can shank us from this range! Now…" With a smirk, he aimed the gun at its new target and said, "What colour should I make Mr. Tall-Dark-And-Ugly?"

.

"Angor?" Dictatious called over curiously. "What is it?"

Disgruntled, Angor Rot took a long, frustrated breath. "Our company has returned."

"Company? What com-" Then it clicked. "Ohhh, those human whelps from before... What do they want now?"

Another loud pop zinged through the air, but Angor was more than quick enough to step out of the way of the predictable shot, backing away from their line of sight. "Their wants are of no concern to us." He growled, forming a ball of purple flames in his hand.

He shot forward, as far as he could safely go to the edge of the shade, and shot the fireball right towards them.

The screams of shock and terror was a sound Angor would treasure. Though, truthfully, he wasn't aiming for them.

The fireball connected with its target, the paintball gun in Kyle's hands being obliterated on the spot, the recoil knocking both him and his friend back.

"Holy shit, dude!" Kyle yelled, scrambling to get away with Brody close behind him. "He's crazy! He's magic, and he's crazy!"

"I told you you shouldn't hit the scary one!"

Angor chuckled as he watched them run out of sight. Turns out he wasn't the only one that amused, as when he turned around, he saw Dictatious laughing too.

"Did you hear their stupid screams?" He snickered. "Priceless!"

Ahh. The tormenting of pesky fleshbags has put Dictatious in a better mood, at least.

"Now then…" Angor said, returning to his place by Dic's side. "Where were we?"

.

"Mom! I'm here!"

Jim walked through the door of his home and kicked off his shoes, looking around. "What'd you want to talk about?"

"In here, honey."

Jim followed Barbara's voice into the dining room where she sat. She gestured to the chair next to her, a concerned look on her face.

"Hey, what… what's with the look?" Jim asked, her concern starting to mirror in his own face. "Are the Familiars okay? Did something happen?"

"No no, Jim, they're fine, Walt's with them…" Barbara assured him, sighing. "It's my child I'm worried about."

Frowning, Jim sat down. "What… do you mean? I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

Jim went quiet, unsure what his mother was getting at.

She sighed again. "… All of this, this… fighting, the fear, and the… the death… I don't want you to have to go through all this pain again…"

"Mom…"

"I know…" She sighed a third time. "… I know, you're the Trollhunter, you have to do it… Just…" She picked up his hand. "… Talk to me, if you're having problems, okay?"

Jim looked at her, still frowning. "… Okay, mom…"

"That being said…" She went on, her voice soft, "… do you want to talk about what happened at Claire's house?"

"Um…" Jim hesitated, wincing at the thought of the horrible flashbacks, "… I don't think so…"

Barbara nodded slowly. "Okay…" She said, "… how about what Ms. Nomura said the other day?"

Jim looked away. He sighed too. "…. I know she misses him… we all do…"

"I know, honey…" She said sympathetically. "I know how hard death can be-"

Putting both of his hands around his mother's, Jim closed his eyes, and sighed. "It's okay, mom. I'll be fine." He tried his hand at a reassuring smile, but Barbara could see the sadness in it. "I just… think I need some time…"

Barbara frowned, but she didn't want to push Jim through this difficult emotional time. Not when it came to something like this. "… Okay. Just… know you can talk to me, alright?"

"I know. Thank you, mom."

His mother's heart was in the right place, but… she didn't understand. The death of a patient in the hospital is not the same as watching your friend die right in front of you, to protect you, it's just…

… not the same.

She couldn't understand this. Not in the way she wanted to for Jim.

Not before hugging his mom, Jim went down to the basement.

.

Despite Dictatious's constant expressions of frustration, he had been showing decent improvement since they began. While Angor had started him out with easy-to-block, light attacks for him to get the hang of it, his novice was catching on quickly and Angor had soon been able to deliver stronger punches without much concern of him falling.

What he seemed to struggle most with, was dealing any damage back.

"You're improving on the defensive," Angor said as he threw his punches, "but you stand no chance if you can't hurt your opponent."

"What, you want me to hit a target I can't see?" Dictatious scoffed, maintaining his ground as best he could, "I don't think that's going to happen anytime soon."

"You don't need to see me to know where I am." Angor took a moment to give Dictatious a break. "You should have an idea of where your enemy stands every time they land a hit on you. If you're paying extra attention, you should be able to hear an opponent coming."

"Alright. I get the hint." Dictatious sighed, annoyed. "But that's not the only problem. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly the biggest or strongest of trolls…"

"Strength comes in many forms. And you're still just learning." Angor countered. "Your size, for example, can be used to your advantage easily."

"Hm..." Dictatious seemed doubtful, but almost everything Angor's said has made sense so far.

Almost.

Angor, seeing Dictatious's doubt, went on with explaining his point. "Your lower center of gravity gives you the advantage in terms of getting under an opponent." He said. "A beneficial factor in close combat."

"And how would I do that?"

Before Angor could say, both their attentions became preoccupied with the shriek of a boy rolling into the canal on his bike, off-balanced by an attachment on the back. The familiar redhead corrected his path and rolled right over to them, braking to a stop.

"Heyyy! How you guys doing?" Toby asked casually as though his life didn't just flash before his eyes. Then he saw the broken machine and splattered paint on the ground. "And… uhh… What's with the paintball gun?" Toby asked.

"Oh, is that what that was?" Dictatious said as he dropped his defensive stance.

"That is what a gun is?" Angor asked, confused.

"Not a deadly one, just one that…" Dictatious looked at Toby. "… shoots paint?"

Toby looked so confused. "I mean, yeah, but seriously, why though?" He said. "Somebody shooting paintballs at you?" Then, oh then, he looked annoyed on their behalf. "Wait, was it those guys who've been following you?"

"For some reason," Dictatious said, "those two seem to have nothing better to do with their lives than to pester strangers."

"You're telling me…" Toby huffed in agreement. "Look, I'll talk to Steve. He probably knows the guys. We'll get this sorted out…" He shook his head and offered a lopsided smile. "Anyhow, sorry if I cut your guys' training short, but I've got to meet with Claire at school soon, so I better get you guys back…" He pulled a large sheet out of the attachment on his bike. "You okay to head back now?"

"We can continue another day." Angor said, raising an eyebrow at Dictatious. "I'm sure this one won't mind an excuse to end things early."

"How well you know me." Dictatious jibed back sarcastically.

.

As the days passed, everyone stayed on guard, but lately it seemed they were anticipating an attack that would never come. Before, at least they had anomalies they could study. But with nothing to go off of now, how could they properly prepare and plan?

It would be especially difficult if the Trollhunter kept distancing himself as he was starting to.

Everybody kept their eyes peeled for all… for any sign of trouble. Yet it was still nothing, nothing, nothing.

In the meantime, Angor kept his focuses on Dictatious's training.

But, while the troll has been improving, he too has seemed… off, recently. More… pessimistic, maybe. It's not like Angor knew him that well. But such subtleties weren't too hard to notice, especially with how much time they've had to spend together.

While Angor Rot's concern was definitely not with Dictatious's feelings of all things, the troll's current mood didn't exactly benefit him.

.

"Dictatious…" Angor sighed, trying not to let the wear on his patience show in his voice, "you must remember not to move your upper body independently of your lower when you hit an opponent."

Dictatious rolled his eyes with a sigh of his own, reluctantly accepting Angor's help up off the ground.

Angor frowned. The smaller troll seemed particularly out of it today… he was usually a faster learner…

"When you try to strike someone like that, it's too easy for them to throw off your balance. Remember what I said about keeping yourself grounded." He tried to explain. "Do you understand?"

"Of course I understand…" Dictatious grumbled, "but knowing and doing are two different things…"

"… I know." Agreed Angor. If Dictatious could just see him, if he could see what to do, it'd be so much easier on him… but, there is another way. Angor stepped forward. "Would you be against me showing you?"

Dictatious's eyes narrowed significantly, but he didn't object. "… I suppose not…"

Given permission, Angor came up behind Dictatious. The smaller troll tensed when Angor started to reposition his upper arms. He raised an eyebrow, letting go and stepping back when he saw the other's discomfort. "If you'd rather I didn't…"

"No, no, it's…" Dictatious sighed, rolling his eyes, but in reaction to himself this time. He knew this would make it easier to understand. "… It's fine. Just show me."

Angor looked skeptical, but stepped forwards again. "When you try to land a hit, you're only using your upper body strength." Angor explained. "Move your leg back a bit more."

Dictatious did so.

"The strength you produce for something like a punch starts from your feet. So, when you move to strike, you should feel it in your whole body, not just your torso." Angor held his arms again and moved Dictatious accordingly to demonstrate. "Does that help?"

Dictatious cleared his throat. "… I, erm… I think so…?"

"Good." Angor stepped away and took his place in front of Dictatious again. "The same can be said for throwing someone else off balance." He went on. "Say I were to move in and strike you like this," As demonstration, Angor feigned a punch to Dictatious's gut, leaving his arm in the position. "What could you do?"

Dictatious's ears flattened back a bit. "Um… I suppose I could…" He tentatively took hold of Angor's arm, frowning in thought. "… pull you down?"

"That is one option, yes." Angor withdrew his hand, circling again as he talked. "Normally, an enemy would be hitting you much faster and harder – you can use their strength against them as you counter, the momentum from their attack making it easier to down them. Account for your enemy's position relative to yours. Suppose I came at you from behind-"

From those words, Dictatious knew from where he could expect Angor's next move. Prepared this time, he grabbed Angor's arm as soon as he could feel it.

"Good." Angor again said, pleasantly surprised. "You're catching on."

Words of praise usually seem to do the trick with improving the other's mood somewhat. Even if it didn't last long…

Again and again they'd do the same thing.

At least, to Dictatious, it all felt like the same thing. His frustrations grew with each failed attempt as time passed.

"You have to be faster than that," Angor said as he pulled away from Dictatious's hits. They were stronger, yes, but not quick enough to be effective in a real fight. "Keep trying."

'Keep trying'.

What even is the point.

Still, Angor's continuous hits against him forced him to keep trying.

Even if he got knocked down again and again?

This is pointless.

This is pointless.

This is pointless-

"Dictatious?"

At the sound of his name, Dictatious glared at the source. Angor sounded confused, almost infuriatingly so. "Why are you doing this?" He finally asked.

Still, Angor seemed to not know what he meant. "Doing what?"

"This! Any of this!" Dictatious snapped, gesturing angrily with his hands. "Why bother with this training?"

"You need to be capable of basic self-defence. Any troll should know-"

"Obviously I know the importance of self-defence! I'm not an idiot, Angor!"

A look of mild surprise took Angor's face at the unexpected outburst. Dictatious looked… rather exasperated.

"Why are you doing this, Angor?" Dictatious said again. "You're a feared assassin about to get caught up in a fight that will no doubt be devastating. Why don't you put this time towards something useful, like training one of the Trollhunters instead, or anybody else?"

"The others already know how to fight." Angor said. "You need this the most."

"Oh, it's not just that." Dictatious scoffed, seeing through that cover, but not able to see what was underneath. "Haven't you learned by now that there's no point? I will never stand a chance for what's to come!"

Angor frowned. "I don't… understand where this is coming from."

To even entertain the idea that he'd actually amount to something on the battlefield? You'd have to be a fool. He's been a fool. "I don't understand why you think any of this is going to amount to anything."

"Why did you agree to watch over me?"

That caught Dictatious off guard. He gave Angor a blank stare. "I…"

Angor's eye narrowed, looking down at the small one. "Judging from your reputation, such a 'selfless' act on your part doesn't make sense. Why would you, of all trolls, agree to be stuck with someone you normally wouldn't bother yourself with?"

Dictatious searched himself for an answer, only to find he had none. None he was willing to articulate. None that he fully understood himself.

Angor saw the unknowing look in his eyes and snorted. "So you can't even answer me that." Going back to the first topic at hand, he said, "From what the others have told me about you, I didn't think you would be one for such… modesty."

"I'm not being modest." Dictatious growled, his annoyance quickly returning. "I'm being accurate. Unlike one of us..." He narrowed his eyes at Angor. "And from what I've heard about you…" He continued, "… I didn't think you'd be the type to waste so many hours on such futility."

"I'm not." Angor stated, arms now crossed. "Why do you keep insisting this is pointless?"

"Because I just- I can't do this. I can't do anything of use." Dicatious sighed harshly looked away. "You should know. You've seen the extent of what I can do, which - surprise surprise - is not much."

"But you have shown much improvement since we started. You get better with each passing day."

Dictatious scoffed. "Sure, maybe I can fight off a goblin or two now, but what of it? I will never be able to defeat another troll, let alone a sorceress or Her underlings. It's not going to happen! Can't you see that I'm a hopeless case, Angor?"

"… Even…" Angor paused, trying to remember how the phrase went, "… 'Even the word hopeless isn't void of hope'."

Dictatious's ears perked immediately. "... Where did you hear that?"

"I overheard your brother mention the phrase." Angor explained simply. His head tilted to the side, watching, calculative. "I believe they are words you should be considering now."

"Blinkous...? Really?"

Angor tilted his head, confused, when Dictatious suddenly snickered at that. The smaller troll shook his head.

"... I'm surprised the old fool still repeats those words..." He mumbled to himself. "… Sentimental sap…"

"It is a sentiment you agree with, is it not?"

"I… used to."

They both were quiet for a shared pass of time. Angor's eyes stayed locked on Dictatious's, while his still looked away.

Angor's voice again broke the silence.

"Even if you don't realize it yourself,you're not hopeless. I've seen enough to know that much." He said, stepping closer. "So get back up. I won't allow you to prove me wrong."

Angor said it like a fact. No emotions attached. Like it was something he just… knew.

For a while there, all Dictatious could really do was stare blankly at the blurry figure beside him.

With a sigh, though not one of defeat, Dictatious finally picked himself back up. "... Alright..." He huffed, "... so, you were telling me about leverage."

.

It was another dark, silent night.

In the dining room of the Domzalskis, the only sound was the slow, tired crunching of somewhat stale potato chips, the only light being a dim glow from Toby's laptop feed into his droopy eyes.

"Hey, T.P…."

Head flopped onto the table, he didn't have to look up to recognize Claire's voice. He gave an indifferent mumble in greeting.

Claire pulled up a chair, sneaking a few chips from his bag. "Still nothing on the cameras?"

"Nope." Toby sighed, flopping his head the other way to stare at her. He looked worried. "What if She knows somehow? That we're watching for Her? What if- What if She's poofing up portals somewhere else and we wouldn't even know because anybody near 'em gets sucked in? Or what if-"

"Hey," Claire said, booping his nose with a chip, "I know it's scary… and… sometimes I wonder too, if there's other people She might be hurting right now…" Claire cringed at the thought, sighing, but she quickly put back on a reassuring smile. "But we've got more support than we think. Strickler and Nomura's got the Janus Order in all parts of the world on the lookout for abnormal magic activity, looking carefully into missing persons…" She trailed off when she noticed Toby's quiet groaning muffled through the table.

"It's a big world." He said in his melancholy. "There's no way we can cover everything."

"… Well… That's true…" Claire agreed, "… which is why we should keep on focusing on what we can cover."

Another long sigh from Toby. "I guess…"

Claire poked his cheek. "Hey. You need to sleep, you dope. I'll take over."

She continued poking Toby.

"Toby. Toby. T.P. Toby-pie. Heeeeey. Toby. Toby. Tobyyyyyy-"

Finally got a small chuckle out of him. "Okay, okaaay- I'm going, I'm going." He hopped off the chair, almost falling over from the resulting headrush, and went on his way upstairs. "G'night, Claire."

"Night, T.P."

.

"You should think of a knife as an extension of your hand."

The pair of trolls parried blades, back and forth exchanging sharp blows against metal. Dictatious, understandably, was more than a little clumsy with the knife Angor had lent him. Not to mention he was still struggling to get the hang of judging his opponent's movements and position. Many of his strikes had been missing their target. But, he had still been doing better than when they started.

'Think about it logically,' Angor had said when they were first starting with weapon combat, 'Where am I going to be most likely to try and hit you with a blade?'

Vitals, kill spots, obviously. So naturally, those such areas are where Dictatious focused on protecting. Still, not being able to see how his opponent was moving wasn't doing him any favours.

"You've been improving at adjusting to my battle style," Angor pointed out as Dictatious managed to block another strike, "but in a real battle, you won't have so much time to learn how to predict your opponent. You need to counteract that disadvantage."

Just barely, Dictatious ducked out of the way of Angor's next swing. There were times where he almost felt like he could hear the weapon coming at him, or even feel the slightest breeze that his opponent's movements caused. It seemed to help, even if only a bit. "And how do you propose I do that?" He huffed.

"You are a clever troll. I know you are capable of quick thinking." Angor plainly said, twirling his knife in hand. "You need to be able to act just as quickly."

The assassin's blade whizzed passed Dictatious's face for the umpteenth time, and at this point he was mostly just focused on not getting hit – he knows these are specially made not to pierce troll skin, but they'd probably still hurt.

Constantly being on the defensive won't help him for long, though - an enemy could wear him down easily like this. He needs to strike, just like Angor's trying to get him to do.

"We've already gone over how most combatants will underestimate you because of your eyes. Use that to catch an enemy off guard."

Try as he did, Dictatious's knife was struck from his hands by Angor's.

"And, keep a good grip." Angor added, twirling his own knife before picking up Dictatious's for him.

Dictatious sighed. "This would be so much simpler with a Parlok Spear…" He mumbled to himself as he took back the blade.

That caught Angor's attention. "A Parlok Spear?" He repeated. "I thought you said you had no fighting experience."

"I mean, not really -" Dictatious said, "I mostly just used one in the Darklands, for the wildlife. I still wasn't a fighter, but… I suppose I got somewhat used to handling one, yes."

"You should have said something sooner." Angor would have welcomed the practicing of a weapon he's used before. "Where is your spear now?"

"Ah. It won't be much use to us now." Dictatious said flatly. "It's still in the Darklands."

Hmm. Unfortunate.

It would appear they'd have to keep working with what they've got.

.

Words looped around Dic's head, scramblings of words clambering desperately to try and formulate any sort of plan of attack.

But to form a viable plan, one needs to think clearly.

What time would he have to think clearly when there's a knife coming at him every second?

And speaking of-

The clash of their blades as Dictatious blocked Angor's knife with his own felt deafening, but that might just be due to the pumping adrenaline the smaller troll was feeling at this point. How do warriors do this all the time?

"Your reaction time is improving." Angor pointed out, pressing against the opposing knife with his. "But you have yet to land a hit."

"I'm painfully aware." Dictatious's grip got shakier with every second their blades were locked. He racked his brain looking for, not sure how long he'd be able to counter this…

… then he had an idea.

He made a sudden duck to the side, the shifting balance giving him just a moment's opportunity as Angor's knife fell off of his. Silently praying this would work, Dictatious flipped the knife from the upper left hand in which he'd been holding it to his lower right. Dictatious couldn't waste even a millisecond to make this move.

It only took Angor the smallest fraction of time to recover from the stumble Dictatious caused when he cut away. As such, it took Angor only the smallest fraction of time to whip around and ready his knife to block Dic-

He... missed.

Not only did he miss, but he went completely still at the feeling of a sharp jab in his side.

When he got a good look at Dictatious, he could see what the other had done.

Angor had aimed to block, but due to Dictatious switching hands, he aimed for the wrong spot. Also due to the switch of his knife placement, Dictatious had managed to hit Angor in a spot he hadn't thought to block.

"I… actually hit you?" Dictatious sounded just as surprised.

"You did." Angor said, straightening himself. "That was a good maneuver. I'm impressed."

The sound of genuine praise from the one so arduously coaching him all this time perked Dictatious right up. He actually smiled for a second, there.

"Maybe we should see how well you'd adjust to dual-wielding." Angor mused. "But let's just stick with practicing with the one knife for now…"

He trailed off at the sight of one orange-haired boy flashed in the corner of his eye. Angor turned his head to see Toby, but the boy had only peeked into the yard for a moment before starting to leave again.

"... One moment." He said to Dictatious, walking over to the human. "Do you need something, Trollhunter?" Angor asked, catching Toby just before he ducked out of sight.

"Oh-" Not realizing he'd been seen, he tried to brush it off. "Oh no, it's fine, it's just..." Toby's sentence fell short, and he sighed. He reversed his steps, facing Angor Rot. "Have you seen Jim?"

"Not since yesterday, no." Angor answered, one eyebrow raising up curiously. "Is he alright?"

Toby sighed again, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, that's what I'm trying to find out..." He muttered, glancing at the phone in his other hand. "He's been disappearing a few times lately, turning off his location and stuff... I just wanted to make sure he's okay."

Well... Considering that child's tendencies, that's a fair concern. "I have not seen him." Angor said again. "But if I do, I will tell him you're looking for him."

He got a grateful smile from the redhead. "Thanks. I'm going to go check a few more places."

Just as quickly as he'd appeared, Toby was gone. Aside from the slightly heavier frown on his face, Angor went back to Dictatious's side just the same as before. The smaller troll looked curious.

"So he misplaced his halfling?" Dictatious said plainly, and with a bit of confusion. "What does it matter if the boy's not always where people expect him to be?"

Angor took a slow breath, reaching over and repositioning Dictatious's grip on his blade. "I have spent much time studying this Trollhunter." He said. "Both from what I have seen and heard about him, isolation is not a good sign."

All Dictatious had in response to that was an indifferent hum. It's not like he knew Jim very well - the most time he'd spent with the boy was while he was inside a cage, so...

There was no point in dwelling on it right now. They might as well finish up what they were doing here. Angor Rot might have considered helping the other human look for his friend, but if the Trollhunter wanted to be alone, that's ultimately his choice in the end.

Though, what Angor did think he should look for, was a better weapon for Dictatious.

.

One does not simply come across a Parlok Spear lying around like pennies fallen out of a stranger's pocket. One must do some digging for such a weapon. But with the amount of people there are in this ragtag group of Trollhunters and misfits alike, Angor Rot was sure at least one of them might know where one is.

Barbara was the first he got around to asking. Unfortunately, she did not recognize the name of such a weapon. Offer as she did to try and be of further help, Angor spared her the extra interaction with him. She knew of her discomforts. There were others he could ask.

Aaarrrgghh was the next one to be approached with the question. Not that he would have much more in the way of feeling... 'unthreatened' by the assassin's presence, but as a former Gumm-Gumm, he would undoubtedly have more experience being around the kind of weaponry Angor sought.

And familiar with Parlok Spears he was, but did he know of any that were currently accessible? Not off the top of his head, unfortunately. And he did express regrets that he couldn't be of more help, of which Angor found somewhat unexpected. Still, he could assure the larger troll that it was not a big deal.

It's not as though a mere Parlok Spear was of much significance. It would simply be a nice thing to have for training purposes, but there were no dire consequences should he not come upon one, of course.

.

"Hey, Spooktacular."

Angor Rot looked up from his carving to see NotEnrique lying on the kitchen island in front of him.

"Heard you been looking for a Parlok Spear." The Changeling said, looking him up and down. "Didn't think that was your kinda weapon."

"It is not." Angor replied, returning his focus to the careful chiseling of the totem in his hand. "Dictatious has mentioned using one in the past. I had intended to see what he could do with one in his current state."

NotEnrique laughed. "Haven't given up on training the ol' snotface, huh? I applaud your patience." When Angor gave him another bland stare, NotEnrique did a quick couple of joking claps. "Well listen, if it's any interest to ya, I think I saw what yer lookin' for in Jim's basement."

"His basement." Angor repeated, raising a brow. "You spend much time in the Trollhunter's basement?"

"Don't insult my hidey-hole options, I just gave you some good info!" NotEnrique said, sounding defensive, but almost in a joking way. "Yeah, I been down there a few times here n' there. Pretty sure I saw a Parlok Spear among some other stuff, just thought I'd mention it since you're lookin'. Like the good Samaritan I am."

"Hmm. You just think it will be amusing to watch Dictatious struggle with handling a sharp weapon, don't you."

"Haha. Yeah."

Despite the Changeling's utterly transparent agenda, at least he did bring Angor something useful. It wouldn't hurt to check out, he was sure.

.

Ideally, Angor would have made sure to have the approval of the Trollhunter or his parent before skulking around his house suspiciously - though it might seem unbelievable from an outside observer's perspective, the assassin didn't particularly want to go out of his way to jeopardize the tiny bit of trust he had been shown so far by these people. But, the Trollhunter seemed to be off somewhere alone at the moment, and according to his mate's parents, they had offered to take care of the infants so Barbara and Stricklander could have a night out to relax.

Time for relaxing didn't seem like time well-spent given their situation, in Angor's opinion, but there could be worse ways to waste time, he supposed. Either way, as long as someone knew he was there and not trying to commit dastardly crimes against anyone, he supposed this was good enough and went on to the basement's stairs.

Halfway through his descent to the lower floor, he saw another figure, already standing inside the basement. Dim light radiated off of small, warm-smelling candles, the reflections of their fire glistening off the black-red metal that Angor recognized to be Jim's armour.

The Trollhunter had his back turned to the stairs, unaware of the naturally ghost-silent troll's presence. Angor blinked a few times, an expression that looked nearly curious as to what the half-troll was doing. When he moved a little closer, still silent and unnoticed by the other, it was then that he could see.

There was a painting, one of many that Angor could assume Barbara painted. This one in particular, though, it stood among other carefully arranged items - a tall floor lamp with a broken shade and what looked to be a bite taken out of where the light-bulb would usually be, pieces of a broken, worthless Grit Shaka, pieces of what looked to be a human board game, and one lone Parlok Spear lying before the canvas, all surrounded by an array of once-beautiful flowers, ones that had begun to very noticably lose their luster.

Angor recognized the troll painted on that canvas. It was one he'd fought before. A friend and protector of the human Trollhunter.

Draal.

Silent still was the assassin as he took another slow couple of steps closer, uncertain of whether or not his presence would be... welcome, in a place like this. But the Trollhunter, he had been seeming low lately. He didn't know why that concerned him so much, but it did. And Angor could swear, Jim sounded almost like he was...

"... Trollhunter?"

Jim jumped at the voice, having thought he was alone. He turned. "Oh, Angor-" He said, quickly wiping his face, "Did, uh, did you need something?"

Angor's eye switched from looking at memorial to Jim, unblinking. "It is unimportant." He replied. "... You've... been distant, these past few days. Something troubles you?"

The tiny trace of sympathy and concern Angor's tone took in that moment caught Jim by surprise. "Ha... That obvious, huh...?" He sighed, turning back to the picture. "I've just... been a little down about some things, I guess."

Angor was quiet, then took another uncertain step forward. "Do you wish to be alone right now?"

Jim was quiet too, but he shrugged. "I... don't mind either way."

... Hmm. So he says.

Still, permission had been given for him to be there. So Angor ambled to the Trollhunter's side, studying him carefully as he did so. When Jim's stance got tense, Angor went still.

He wasn't dense. He knew this would be a... sensitive situation, considering how this troll died...

Or maybe he was dense, for taking that into account and still choosing to stay. Well, either way...

Angor Rot turned his attention again to the memorial, the steadily-wilting flowers shedding the seldom petal, but a safe distance away from the few candle's fire. He looked upon the centerpiece, the canvas with an impressive from-memory painting of Draal on Barbara's part. Soft shades of blue accented his tough but caring face, a piercing mix of yellow and red bringing out eyes that looked up, as if seeing stars that were not there to be seen. It was a vibrant painting. As vibrant as his friend's memories of him.

"He was an amazing troll, you know." Jim said. His voice sounded hollow, but part of that might've been from trying to blatantly ignore the fact he'd been crying. "One of the bravest I've ever known."

There was something else in those statements too, some sort of implication, maybe even some bitterness that Jim hadn't fully intended. But who could blame him in this situation? Angor didn't. Honestly, he was just surprised Jim hasn't told him to leave yet.

The taller of the two was silent, aside from a quiet hum of consideration, before he spoke. "I don't doubt you." He said. "I admit that I misjudged him, our first confrontation."

Jim bit his tongue, but just nodded slightly. When Angor snuck another glance at him, he looked frustrated, sad of course, like there was more he wanted to say, but couldn't.

Couldn't find the right words. Or, couldn't bring himself to say them.

He wasn't a saint. He's not all-forgiving. This troll killed Draal, and while Jim was trying not to blame him, it was mostly Gunmar's fault, but, the truth of the matter is... Angor Rot killed Draal... As much as Jim wished he wasn't, he was still angry.

The Trollhunter sighed another heavy sigh, and anybody could see clear as day the conflicted feelings he was having about this.

Was Angor supposed to say something? What could he possibly say in this situation? 'Sorry I accidentally stabbed your friend - I was aiming for you, I swear'.

Right. He'll take the silence instead...

The Trollhunter frowned as another petal fell from one of the withering flowers around the canvas. "Got to replace those soon, I guess..." He mumbled under his breath, for lack of being able to verbalize anything better right now.

His attention now turned to those sad-looking plants, Angor was struck with a thought.

When the Trollhunter's old enemy held a hand up and closed his eye, a vivid lavender glow illuminating the air around said hand, Jim gave him a mildly concerned side glance. He watched, with caution and curiosity, as Angor began an incantation.

"βψ δεψα'σ ηςαγε, λετ με ςετυςν ονε σθςεδ οζ λjζε ζος ωθατ jτοoκ."

As he spoke, the coloured light in his hand took form in a threadlike stream moving towards the plants, its light turning from lavender to a strong sky blue as it made contact with each petal, leaf and stem, rejuvenating each flower. When the magical surge faded away, the flowers framing that image of Draal now seemed to glow all on their own with new life, their radiant colours shining more vibrantly than even when they were first cut.

"Oh..." Jim said softly, his wide eyes staring from the newly refreshed plants to Angor Rot. "Thank you..."

The thanks was returned with a quiet hum. Angor folded his arms, a silent sigh leaving him as he stared into the painted face of this felled troll. "He died protecting those he loved and fighting for what he believed in. It is the least I could do for such an honourable death."

"… Sometimes, I wonder what he'd do if he were here. I wonder what he'd... What he'd think of the choices we've..." He bit his tongue. "... I've made..."

Angor studied Jim. "... I did not know him well at all. I couldn't provide an accurate answer for you." He said. "But his dedication to you was always plain to see. If I were to make a guess, Trollhunter, I believe he would have been honoured to be standing with you today, despite all of the difficult choices you've been faced with."

Jim suddenly looked away, making an odd noise. It didn't take Angor long to realize he was trying not to cry right then and there.

"Mourn however you need to, Hunter." Angor said, his voice again carrying traces of uncharacteristic sympathy. "You're not being judged."

That was about all it took. Jim still didn't look at him, but he wasn't holding back the tears anymore.

They didn't share words for some time, until Jim was done crying, then he spoke.

"… Sorry…" He muttered awkwardly, wiping his face of tears.

"Nothing to be sorry for." Angor replied. "Your friends have been worried about you." He pointed out to Jim.

Jim sighed. "... Yeah... I guess I just... didn't want to drag anybody down more, it's... it's stupid of me to be acting like this with everything going on right now..."

"Draal was their friend too, was he not?" Angor asked, a rhetorical question as he was fairly sure he knew the answer. "I'm sure they would understand why you're feeling this way. And it's plain to see they don't want you to feel alone."

"… You're right…" Jim cleared his throat, then sighed. "You're right. I'll… I'll talk to them."

Again they were quiet.

"The pain does fade, Trollhunter." He assured the child. "Never will it disappear completely, but it does fade."

"I know." Jim whispered. "It's just... hard sometimes."

"I understand."

… He does, doesn't he…

"... Do you-" Jim started, but went quiet, biting his tongue again. Maybe he shouldn't ask such a personal question. But when he saw Angor inquisitively looking at him, he felt he might as well just come right out and say it. He continued, in a faltering voice, "Do you... still think about your village? From before Morgana...?"

The taller troll broke eye contact, staring instead into one of the candle's flames without so much as a blink. "... Yes. Sometimes."

"... When you went to Morgana for magic..." Jim started, watching Angor, "... it was so that you could defend your village, wasn't it…?"

Angor didn't respond. Jim felt he could take that as a yes. And, obviously... that plan didn't quite work out...

"I'm... I'm sorry, Angor..." Jim said softly, this time his voice being the one toned with sympathy. "You didn't deserve that."

Angor took a quiet, deep breath in, which he held for a moment before letting it go as an even quieter sigh. "Your pity is misplaced." He replied. "I abandoned them in our most dire of times."

"It wasn't your fault-"

"It was long ago, Trollhunter." Angor cut him off. "What's done is done, regardless of intention."

Jim bit his tongue, frowning. "... 'Long ago' or not..." He said, a more serious note to his voice. "... you shouldn't blame yourself for something like that."

Angor responded with nothing more than a scoff.

"Hey." Jim said firmly. Angor finally glanced his way again. "You tried to protect them, Angor. If anybody's at fault for what happened back then, it's Morgana and Gunmar."

A flicker of confusion crossed Angor's face. Confusion as to why the Trollhunter is so adamant about making this point. The boy is still sensitive about how his friend died, the one they're at the very grave at and that Angor himself killed, yet still he says all of this out of nowhere?

Humans are strange creatures.

Aside from a sigh from Jim, who hoped he was at least getting through to Angor a little bit, the two of them fell into silence.

A silence of which was not just shared by their ears. For when one leaves the basement door open whilst discussing painful memories, it's easier for others to listen in on said painful memories.

Dictatious wasn't much of one to care about other people's problems all that much. He did, however begrudgingly, agree to monitor the whole 'Angor' situation. And if he's supposed to be keeping a metaphorical lookout for this troll, then who can blame him for being curious about where he disappeared to? He'd been sitting outside the door long enough to hear what he needed to, in any case.

Despite his aforementioned lack of caring about other's problems, listening to... this particular conversation brought the ghost of a frown to Dictatious's face...

His ears perked up at the sound of Jim speaking again.

"I guess we've both lost a lot to people like Gunmar and Morgana, huh...?" The Trollhunter sighed under his breath.

Angor did nothing more than nod slowly in agreement.

Jim glanced at him, thinking. "Then..." He said, "I guess that's all the more reason not to let the likes of them hurt anyone else, right?" He offered the assassin a hesitant smile.

Angor looked at Jim, face void of any discernible emotion, and yet the boy could tell he felt the same, somewhere in that broken husk. "Against the Pale Lady, there will be no avoiding pain, Hunter... but..."

Maybe Angor couldn't save his own village all those years ago.

But maybe... just maybe he can help protect this one.

"... I will fight alongside you if it means defeating Her. No matter the cost."

That was all it took to put a bit more hope in Jim's smile. "That means a lot, Angor. Thank you."

Dictatious's frown deepened. In his mind, certain dots were starting to connect.

"Well, I should probably go find Tobes and Claire, tell 'em not to worry. I'm sure you don't want to spend the whole night in my basement, anyways."

Upon hearing that, along with the movement of the two warriors to the stairs, Dictatious made a hasty exit. He was only lucky that he'd been starting to get the hang of being "stealthy"... somewhat.

Halfway through climbing the stairs, Jim paused, and looked again to Angor.

"And, you know..." Jim said, a faint smile starting to form, "... you can call me Jim, if you want."

"'Jim'..." Angor repeated, a look of contemplation on his face... Sounded... strange.

"... Perhaps another day." He replied flatly, causing Jim to laugh.

"Well, whatever suits your fancy then, Angor- oh, or should I be calling you 'Mr. Rot', since we're being 'formal'?" Joked the Trollhunter.

"Formal is not the word I'd use... and, do not call me that."

"I was only kidding." Jim chuckled again, Angor following him upstairs. "Hey, get some sleep tonight, okay?"

"You should consider taking your own advice, Hunter."

Jim blinked a few times at that. "That... is a fair point."

A smile, even half of one, Jim was not expecting, but it's what he got. He watched the assassin leave him to his own devices, and Jim smiled again, his anger from before having faded more than he thought it would.

He's not a monster. No matter how much he had acted like one.

.

"Your stance is too wide."

"I think I have a few more things to worry about than my stance!"

Dictatious's case in point, he got smacked across the yard by the leafy giant that opposed him. Angor watched with an eagle's eye to make sure the fight wouldn't get out of hand, but he didn't move from his place beneath the tree. He could tell that hit didn't hurt Dictatious much anyways. The small troll got up fine, but flinging many Trollish curses the training dummy's way.

"You wouldn't have gotten knocked that far if you had corrected your stance."

"Oh haha-" Dictatious barely got half a sarcastic quip in before having to lunge to the left, just narrowly avoiding the leafy fist pummelling down to the ground where he'd just been. "Don't you think this is all a bit advanced for where I'm at?!"

"A golem made of dead leaves is hardly what I'd call much above your current capabilities." Angor said with a smirk. "You know what needs to be done. You'll be fine."

"Well thank you for your confidence."

"That didn't sound very thankful."

Angor got a glare from Dictatious. He went back to fighting (at least, trying to fight) the golem.

A familiar snicker sounded off from one of the branches above the assassin. "Yous' got immunity to sodium or something, Spooktacular, 'cause that guy's a living salt mine."

"Changeling." Angor greeted, not taking his eyes off Dictatious and the golem. "Come to do away with your boredom, have you?"

"You bet." NotEnrique chuckled, letting his arm hang from the tree. "What better entertainment is there than watchin' someone get beat up by yesterday's rake pile?"

Angor had to agree these events have been amusing to watch.

"S'a shame you couldn't use the Parlok Spear at Jim's, though." NotEnrique mused. "Oh well. I tried to help."

"Hmm."

Angor's head turned at the sound of a car pull into the driveway across the street. An epiphany struck him as he watched Strickler walk inside the Trollhunter's home.

"Actually, Changeling…" Angor said, "… perhaps you can be of some help."

.

Colliding metal sent clashing sounds through the air. Blade against blade, the sharp noises were accompanied with grunts of effort from their wielders.

Angor sat with his arms crossed beneath Nana's apple tree in the backyard, not taking his eye off of the sparring troll and human. He watched their every moves very intently.

"A knife is to be treated as an extension of the hand." Angor repeated from his last lesson with Dictatious. "A long weapon such as this, however, is like another limb entirely. You must attune it with the rest of your body. Do not move independently of your weapon, Dictatious, move with it."

Another loud clang broke loose throughout the clearing as the blade of Claire's Naginata was caught between the prongs of Dictatious's Parlok Spear.

"Aha!" Exclaimed Dictatious triumphantly upon catching his opponent's weapon.

Claire blinked a few times before grinning. Quick as ever, she moved her Naginata up and then pulled down, hooking the Parlok Spear on the base of its blade, then yanked it right out of his hands and sent it flying across the yard.

"... Ah." The troll said, enthusiasm from before much deflated. "That did not go over well."

"Premature celebration," Angor continued, the ghost of a smirk on his face as he got up to retrieve the spear, "will often bring you disappointment."

He would be one to know, as he's had much personal experience in underestimating this group of Trollhunters. Angor knew that Claire would be a good choice in close combat as he had experience there as well.

Claire giggled, twirling her weapon gracefully in the one hand and smiled in good nature at Dictatious. "Well, you only lose when you stop trying. Almost had me that time!"

"If by 'almost' you mean 'not even close', then I agree." Dictatious rolled his eyes, but thankfully he wasn't in bad humour, himself.

Truth be told, Dictatious had actually been doing exceptionally well today. His previous experience with this weapon has been very apparent. Claire was definitely a good choice for training today. Switching up opponents is good for getting used to adapting to different people's fighting styles as well, and she's even benefiting from this too.

"So what say you, fleshbag?" Dictatious said to Claire as he accepted the Parlok Spear back from Angor, "Care for round twelve?"

"Ready when you are!"

Angor started to walk back to his place under the tree to watch them, when he spotted NotEnrique, who had come down from the branches and was talking to Jim.

The Trollhunter... looks upset.

When Angor got to them, Jim's frustrated gaze turned to him. "... Is something wrong?" Angor asked.

"Did you take that spear from Strickler's office?" Jim asked back.

"Yes." The complete and utter nonchalance of that admission threw Jim for a loop. Angor also added, "The Changeling could have told you that."

"Oh boy..." NotEnrique mumbled, cringing at what he knew was to come.

Irritation jabbed at Jim, though so far he had managed to keep it in check, but his voice was still a dead giveaway of his unhappy mood. "And you didn't even talk to Strickler?"

"I... fail to see the problem." Angor said, and he was being sincere. "He has another, and was only using them for decoration."

Jim almost couldn't believe it. Angor had been understanding enough to be able to talk to him when he'd been feeling sad about Draal, but can't see the problem with breaking into Strickler's office for a glorified fork?

"The problem is that you stole it, Angor!"

The rise in volume of Jim's voice caught both Claire and Dictatious's attention. They had stopped sparring and looked over at the scene.

"Do you realize that Strickler and I just spent the afternoon evacuating the high school?!" When Angor still looked a little confused, Jim elaborated. "All we knew was that somebody got into Strickler's office and took a weapon! Do you really think our first thought would be 'Oh, obviously NotEnrique and Angor Rot have it' and not, I don't know, 'Some vengeful Changeling just got into Strickler's office and took a weapon and could still be in the school'?!"

With Morgana acting up again, who wants to take chances that some worshiper of hers is going around shish-kabobbing teenagers for whatever reason? Definitely not Jim.

"Look, I- I get that you're used to just going ahead and doing things, but you need to communicate with people before you do something like that, okay? You should have just asked Strickler! Is that so hard?"

With that apathetic look on his face not changing even slightly as Jim went on, the Trollhunter couldn't even tell if he was actually getting through to Angor Rot. Not until he spoke, that is.

"It wasn't my intention to trouble you." He said, calm-voiced. "It will not happen again."

Jim squinted and took a long hard look at Angor, trying to determine how sincere he was really being. "... Good. That's all I wanted to make sure of." He eventually replied. "Put it back. If you want to borrow something, you can ask."

Done with the conversation, Jim walked off with an irate sigh.

"Umm…" Claire said awkwardly, "I should… uh…" She simply didn't continue the thought and followed Jim.

Still, Angor Rot's expression seemed undisturbed. NotEnrique still looked uncomfortable. He awkwardly stared as the taller troll as he went over to Dictatious to take the spear.

"Unfortunate." Dictatious said as he passed the Parlok Spear to him. "But it wasn't a complete waste, at least. Got a good few bouts in with the girl."

"That is true." Angor agreed. A shame their idea didn't work out, but it wasn't a total loss. "Do not leave the shade. I will be back."

.

"Yeah, Angor had it. Nothing to worry about, I talked to him and told him to return it."

"Oh, you didn't have to do that." Strickler's voice, obviously still nervous of the assassin, said through Jim's cell. "He can just keep it-"

"Hey! Don't enable him!" Jim said back. "He's not allowed to have scary-privilege!"

When Claire walked into his room, Jim cut the conversation short.

"Okay, I'm gonna go now… Yeah, no problem. Talk to you later." He hung up, then sighed.

"You okay…?" Claire asked.

"He's a millennia-old, super-powerful troll sorcerer that's come back from death twice and used to steal Trollhunter souls, yet somehow I feel like I just kicked a dog!"

Claire walked over and placed a hand on Jim's shoulder, "I mean, you have to be clear with him, Jim… He needed to hear all that. Besides, it didn't look like he took it personally." But she added under her breath, "Then again, it's hard to tell with him…"

"I know, he's just been… so cooperative since we found him, way more so than I ever thought he'd be, even helping Dictatious out this much…" Jim sighed. "I get that he didn't mean to cause any trouble, but how could he think that was fine?"

"I know…" Claire said. "Sorry I didn't say anything to them about it. I didn't know it was Strickler's."

Jim shrugged, a tired but accepting sigh emerging from him. "S'okay. We got it all figured out, anyway…"

They both turned the head at the sound of the door opening, and Toby walking in. "Heyyy… sorry to interrupt." He said. "Can we talk?"

.

Yesterday did not work out as well has they had hoped, what with Dictatious's weapon of choice being out of reach now.

So, for today, it was time to double down on hand-to-hand combat.

They'd been at it for at least two hours by now, and they were going at it hard.

Dictatious was out of breath at this point, but Angor was still going strong. There was hardly a moment's break Dic got from the other's attacks. He still was managing to hold his ground, but his performance was definitely lagging.

"I know you can do better than this." Angor growled, landing hit after hit.

Dictatious blocked most, but not all of them. Frustration getting the better of him, he snapped, "Easy for you to say! You can see!"

Surprisingly to Dictatious, that got Angor to halt his attacks. "Is that what you think the problem is?"

Dictatious blinked, confused. He raised an eyebrow at the strange popping sound he heard from the other, and the foreign incantation he spoke before dropping a small object to the ground.

"There." Angor then said. "Fair game."

"You- You just took out your eye?" Dictatious said in disbelief.

"Now, I see only black." Angor confirmed. "Is this even enough a fight for you?"

Dictatious swallowed. But, he readied for more of a fight.

Angor shot at him like a bullet. They locked in a series of strikes and dodges, an intricate dance of battle breaking out in the Domzalski backyard.

Dictatious was besieged by attacks from all different angles, too fast to keep up with. If anything, all these training sessions has done wonders for his stamina, but it was abundantly clear for him to see that he was still far from on par with the dangerous assassin. Even with Angor going easy on him. Even with him blinded as well.

He would evade occasionally. He would get a hit in, here and there. But Angor kept going strong. Dictatious wondered if he even did anything to his eye at all.

It was when everything went silent that Dictatious could expect an attack. Angor moved like a stealthy viper, soundless as he moved, as he circled, readying his next strike. Dictatious knew it was coming. He just didn't know when.

Until he could hear it coming. It was only a second's warning, but it was enough to alert him on the other's movement.

He panicked.

"στοπ!"

A burst of flames erupted from Dictatious. It threw Angor Rot back with incredible force. Dictious's jaw dropped, unclear on what just happened. Angor looked even more surprised.

"Angor…?" Dictatious hesitantly said. "What just-?"

"You never told me…" Angor rumbled, Dictatious able to hear in his voice the wicked grin forming on his face, "… that you can do magic."

"I can't!" Dictatious said, then he backtracked. "Well, I mean – Blinkous and I used to dabble in hexes and such when we were young, but-!"

"Do it again."

"What."

Angor chuckled darkly. "That spell. Do it again."

"Wh- I don't know how?" Dictatious countered. "It just… happened."

"Dictatious. There are very few trolls with the natural aptitude for magic to accidentally do something like that." Angor said. "Whatever you were feeling that led up to that moment, recreate it in your mind. Do it again."

"… Ehh…" Confused, Dictatious wondered how exactly one recreates the feeling of being continuously shot at, but he at least… tried.

He closed his eyes, trying to focus on remembering the strange feeling of that mystical energy bursting out around him, tried to force that energy out again.

Nothing… nothing….

Wait.

He could feel a small spark, miniscule even, and lasting no more than a second, but he could feel it.

And Angor definitely heard it. His smirk grew wider, his voice was like a pleased purr. "Well. We can call this a day, for tomorrow, we will be engaging in a different kind of training."

Dictatious sighed with relief that he'd at least get some rest now. That was more on his mind than the supposed anomynal act of magic he just performed. Still, he stared down at his hands, perplexed.

His attention returned to Angor – he could swear the blurry figure looked shorter than normal. Hunched over, maybe? ... Was he searching for something?

"What are you doing, Angor?"

Angor Rot was quiet for a good few seconds. "… Nothing worth noting."

"... Did you..." Dictatious squinted, unable to believe the words about to come out of his own mouth. "... Did you lose your eye?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course not."

A long and awkward stretch of silence followed. Dictatious's jaw dropped.

"Great Gronka Morka. You did."

"... I did, yes." Angor eventually admitted.

Dictatious took a looong, slow inhale of breath. The world in that moment seemed all quiet, hinging on that next, exasperated word to leave his mouth.

"HOW?!"

.

"Of course! Because of COURSE that would happen!" Dictatious continued to vent as he blindly searched the grass. "You know, most trolls lose their horngazels, or their gnome traps, but oh no, not you! One working eye between us, and you go and LOSE IT! AN ENTIRE EYEBALL!"

"Yes. You have repeated that many times." Angor replied in his dry as ever voice, feeling around some nearby rocks. "It's not as though this is the first time it's happened."

"HOW MANY TIMES DO YOU HAVE TO LOSE AN EYEBALL BEFORE YOU LEARN TO, I DON'T KNOW, INVEST IN SOME EYE POCKETS OR SOMETHING?!"

When NotEnrique entered the backyard to see two trolls (one of them shouting with the same level of anger as a shaken wasp's nest) fumbling around in the grass, he was very confused. "Um." He said out, grabbing both of their attention. "Am I interrupting somethin'?"

"Oh, not at all." Dictatious snapped immediately, glaring in the direction of the Changeling's voice. "Unless you count looking for Angor Rot's stupid eye."

"At least mine works."

"YEAH, A LOT OF GOOD THAT'S DOING US NOW, ISN'T IT?!"

"His eye?" NotEnrique repeated. "Y'mean it's... not in his face?"

Now both trolls glared in his direction.

"... Okay. Point taken." The Changeling cringed. But internally, boy, was he ever losing it with laughter.

"Maybe, instead of pointing out the obvious..." Dictatious said, "... you could actually make yourself useful."

"Oh, I'm on it, don't you worry."

Unfortunately, NotEnrique's idea of 'making himself useful' in this case meant documenting this hilariously golden incident. With a click of his phone, he angled the camera just right to get everyone in the picture and took a selfie with the most shit-eating grin, cackling as he walked away. It was only a moment later he noticed the not-so-polite addition Dictatious sneaked into his photo.

"OI, FOURARMS!" NotEnrique shouted over to them. "WHO TAUGHT YOU SUCH RUDE HAND GESTURES?"

Whoever it was, the Changeling would have to give them a high-five for such genius.

Being blatantly ignored by the larger green troll at this point, NotEnrique simply cackled again and went back on his way inside. As he was leaving that fiasco, he noticed an unnatural glint in the leaves of a nearby shrub.

Ohohoho. Could it be?

Hopping over to inspect the shrub, he reached his stubby little arm through the leaves and felt around, hand falling on a smooth, round object lodged between some rocks and roots. With a few good tugs, he pulled out none other than Angor Rot's eye.

NotEnrique's smirk grew wider, and he held it up to examine it. Casting a glance back again, he saw two trolls still stumbling around to find this thing. Could Angor not actually see out of it right now? Weird.

Now, NotEnrique could be a good Samaritan and return this eye to the two blind trolls. But no.

Oh, no no no.

He had a much better idea.

.

"I'm sure it will turn up."

Dictatious had moved on from anger and, by some unknown means, found himself actually trying to comfort the other troll. Maybe he was starting to feel a little bit bad for Angor Rot, who hadn't taken his head out of his hands or stopped making that low, frustrated growling noise since they sat in the living room to wait for one of the Trollhunters.

"I mean, it can't have gotten far." Dictatious said. "We just need a working set of eyes, is all."

"It should not be lost in the first place." Angor rumbled in annoyance.

As Dictatious was trying to put the other troll at ease, he was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open so hard it slammed against the wall. Into the room walked Claire Núñez, looking very displeased.

"What is this?!" She snapped, holding up the obsidian-like object that was Angor Rot's eye in her hand.

Dictatious squinted. "... Neither of us can see right now, child." He said dispassionately. "But I'm hoping it's Angor's eye."

Angor lifted his head. "You found it already?" He inquired.

"Oh yeah, I found it, alright." Claire said with a smile faker than Jim's will to live. "Care to explain to me, Angor Rot, what it was doing IN MY BATHROOM?!"

"... What."

Dictatious's eyes went from squinting to opening up wide as dinner plates. "Oh- Oh, you think he- Ohh."

Well that's not good.

.

"Ask Toby's Nana if she needs anything while you're over there, Jim." Barbara called over as she 'helped' Javier Nuñez with some cooking. "She's taking on a lot by letting all those trolls stay under her roof."

"I'll be sure to ask," Jim replied as he pulled a plain blue hoodie over his head. His armour was needed for walking in sunlight, sure, but it was nice to get out of it every once in a while, even if it meant having to stay under awnings and roofs. Jim took a look in the kitchen on his way out to see how they were doing, and he just had to snicker at the looks of Javier dying a little inside as his mother clearly had no idea what she was doing with their meal prep.

"Mum, that's corn starch, not flour." Jim pointed out when Barbara had started scooping from the wrong container.

"Oh. Huh." She said, nonchalance galore as she poured it right back into the container.

The cry for help on Javier's face was hilarious, and Jim regretted having to leave the poor man alone cooking with his mother of all people, but he had places to be (trolls to check on) so he said his goodbyes and headed out the door.

Things have been going somewhat well, give or take an incident or two... Jim was pretty sure he'd find everything in order at Toby's house. How much trouble could they possibly get into, especially with Claire there to keep an eye on them?

And when would these poor children learn to expect nothing but chaos at every turn?

Jim opened the door and the first thing he heard was shouting. What quickly followed was the sight of his girlfriend smacking the crap out of Angor with a book she must've grabbed off the shelf, yelling and cursing angrily, topped off with a distressed-looking Dictatious next to them trying to talk Claire down from her fury.

"DID YOU REALLY THINK YOU'D GET AWAY WITH THAT, YOU GROSS, DISGUSTING, SON OF A-"

"Human, would you please calm down!" Dictatious exasperatedly pleaded, though he dared not get between the two for concern of getting caught in the girl's wrath. "He had taken it out for training purposes, we didn't know where it went-"

"The hell kind of weak-ass excuse is that?!" She snapped at him, Dictatious flinching back as he didn't want to incur her wrath any more than it had been. "You seriously think I'd believe that?!"

Angor, looking very tired of literally everything going on right now, grabbed the book as Claire was about to hit him with it again, holding it there. "For the last time, Trollhunter," he growled at her with low patience, "I had no part in putting it there. Now if you would just return my eye-"

"BULL!" Claire shouted, starting to kick at him instead while trying to pull the book back. "I should throw it in a WOOD CHIPPER after where I found it!"

"Woah woah woah, Claire, hey!" Jim stepped in, gently pulling her away from Angor to separate them. He looked to each the eyeless Angor, the on-edge Dictatious, and the ever so furious Claire. "What's going on?"

Jim, understandably, felt a twinge of fear in his heart when his girlfriend turned to him with her rage-filled eyes. "I found this-" She shouted, holding up Angor's eye for Jim to see "-hiding in my bathroom!"

That got Jim to do a double take. He looked at Angor, squinting, for he wasn't sure if that was something someone like him would actually do... "... Were you seriously trying to spy on my girlfriend?"

"No!" Angor exasperatedly denied it for what must've been the 30th time. "For what ridiculous reason do you think I would do something so foolish-"

"Oh, I can think of a few reasons, you creepy-!"

"Claire, hey-" Jim cut her off, trying his best to keep the situation from escalating. "Let's just-"

Dictatious kept his distance, definitely not keen on getting caught in any crossfire. Still though, he was curious to find out the cause of all this confusion... He was there when Angor lost his eye, and of all the things Dictatious had Angor pegged as, a deviant of that low a level was not one of those things. Not to mention he couldn't even see out of his eye right now. So how would it end up in Claire's bathroom of all places?

Then, amidst the chaos, Dictatious heard it. His ears perked at the wild cackling from one unholy terror of a Changeling from the corner of the living room. NotEnrique had almost laughed himself to tears, hardly even able to hold his phone still as he recorded the whole thing while everyone was distracted, right from when the pandemonium began. The gears in Dictatious's head started to turn - the Changeling was there in the backyard with them, after all - and when everything suddenly snapped together and made sense, he whipped around in the direction of NotEnrique's voice and called him out. "YOU!"

Everybody froze. All attention in the room was turned to NotEnrique, who had fallen completely silent and wide-eyed.

"Mi hermano..." Claire said, voice a dangerous combination of sickeningly sweet and deathly hostile, "Did you plant Angor Rot's eye in my bathroom for your own twisted amusement?"

"Uuuhhhhhhh..." He held up his phone. "Well, not just mine! I got a good half-million people or so on this livestream, y'know!"

All of Claire's anger shifted to a new target. "YOU LITTLE SLIMEBALL!"

"... Uh-oh."

A new pandemonium was about to break loose, and this is one NotEnrique wouldn't stick around for. He scurried away as fast as he could, darting past his scene of chaos and shooting up the stairs like a bullet.

"Get back here!" Claire shouted, charging after him.

That left Jim, Angor Rot, and Dictatious together in the living room with a mutual feeling of... 'what just happened'.

Angor sighed in frustration and put his head back in his hands.

"Well, at least the true culprit was found out." Dic shrugged. "And you got your eye back, right?"

"She's still holding it."

"Oh dear."

From the sounds of that rampageous crashing and yelling from upstairs, Claire had caught up with her Changeling brother. Jim sighed and awkwardly patted Angor's shoulder. "I'll get it back from her. Give me five minutes."

.

"... Sorry...?"

Claire obviously felt very awkward about the whole thing. She rubbed the back of her head, awkwardly fiddling with a few of her hair clips.

Sighing in annoyance, Angor popped the now-properly-working eyeball back where it belonged and grunted. "It is... alright. The circumstances were suspicious." He replied dryly. "But I can promise you that I have no interest in whelps, let alone human ones."

"… Valid." She replied. "Next time you might want to be a little more careful with your removeable organs around that horror."

"Well 'ey, s'not like you could see out of the thing anyways. Wouldn'ta put it there if you could've." NotEnrique said, justifying his actions (in his own head, anyway) but still keeping a safe distance from his angry sister. He crawled down from the bookshelf he'd been sitting, snickering. "Was all just for some innocent shits and giggles. No harm no foul, right?"

His eye narrowed at the Changeling and he growled. "You are brave to assume I won't remove your limbs from your body after that trouble you caused."

The next laugh that came from NotEnrique was one of mostly nervousness, and he took a couple steps back when it looked like Angor might actually make a move for him.

"Easy now." Dictatious said, holding an arm out to discourage Angor from acting on that threat. "As much as witnessing you follow through on that threat would be incredibly entertaining, that would get you into far worse trouble."

"Yeah, I'd like my brother to stay alive, please."

"I second that!" NotEnrique piped up. "Besides, Diccy would miss me too much for this alone!" He held up his phone, and clicked.

At full-volume blast, "Blinded By The Light" started playing.

"… Okay. I take it back." Dictatious growled, four golden balls of fire sparking to life in his hands.

NotEnrique bolted, Dictatious chasing after him. "GET BACK HERE, PEST!"

"Hey hey! No magic in the house!" Claire shouted, also chasing after them.

Cue the sounds of loud crashing and disaster.

"Well. He picked that spell up fast." Angor simply said.

"Oh boy…" Jim chuckled stiffly. He started to head over to help until he heard a triumphant "GOTCHA!" from Claire.

"… Sounds like she's got that handled." He said, a grunt of agreement from Angor.

Convenient too, as Jim now had time to pick up the phone that started ringing in his pocket.

"Hey, Tobes. What's up?"

Angor watched inquisitively as Jim's face shifted.

"Yeah… okay. That's probably a good idea. Alright – we'll meet there tomorrow."

After hanging up, he looked to Angor Rot, a clear intention on his mind.

"I need to ask you something."