Poppy, Branch, Biggie, and Meadow Spriggs took a very good look at the carnage around them. Poppy picked up a burnt musical sheet, one of many, as Branch muttered under his breath, "Whoa. Something gnarly happened here."
Meadow looked on in dejection as the fires raged, "Was this...Symphonyville?"
"It was Symphonyville."
Acting on instinct, Branch picked up a nearby bow and attempted to use it as a blunt weapon.
"Who said that? Identify yourself."
"Uh... Are you nice or are you mean?"
"W-We're nice," Poppy gestured Branch to lower his bow as she diffused the situation, "We're really nice."
"But not too nice," Meadow muttered under her breath, "My friend Branch can attest to that fact."
. . .
"Okay."
Suddenly, from a small pile of sand popped out a pair of big black eyes, whitch belonged to a sentient golden flute. The flute plopped down and rolled over to a bewildered group of Pop Trolls. Poppy was the first to react and picked up the flute, who flashed a warm smile as a sign of trust.
"Hi. You said this was Symphonyville?"
"It was..." The flute nodded before she coughed out dust, "It was the place where the Classical Music Trolls lived. But that was in the before."
"What happened here?"
"Well..." The flute's optimism was strong, but it showed faint signs of faltering, "It was the most wonderful place you ever did see. It was a place where all of the Classical Trolls could live in perfect harmony. Wherever the conductor led, we followed. But then..."
"Queen Barb?" Branch approached the flute, "Did Queen Barb show up?"
"She wasn't alone," The flute confirmed while adding, "She had her Rock Trolls and these ugly monsters with them. They had green skin, fangs for teeth, and Rock Troll clothing, but...they weren't Rock Trolls."
The blood belonging to Poppy, Branch, and Biggie ran cold as ice as the flute's description of the non-Rock Trolls resonated too well with them.
"Queen Poppy," Meadow turned to them, "Do you know who did this?"
Poppy ignored her question for now and turned back to the flute, "What happened next?"
"She took our string...our people...our music..." The flute fought back tears, which Poppy gently wiped away, "We lost everything. But..."
"But what?" Poppy tilted her head.
The flute hesitated before leaping out of her hands and motioned the group to follow her. She lead the group to a building that was much taller and larger than the ones destroyed. Inside was a lone Classical Troll who was clearly wounded as a result of the Rock Trolls' attack. Like the rest of his tribe, he had golden velvet skin, bushy hair, gossamer wings, large heads in proportion to small bodies, a light plaster of glitter, and a wishstone where his navel would be that matched the color of his hair. What made him distinguished from the others were his black coat with golden borders, signature hairstyle made his own, and thick eyelashes in spite of his gender. No doubt that this was the heavily injured leader of the Classical Trolls.
"I couldn't just leave him," the flute sniffled.
Knowing this, Branch immediately helped him up and carried him out so he could tend to his wounds. Poppy, meanwhile, tried hard to come to terms with the horrible truth that stood in front of her. A horrible truth in the guise of smoke and mirrors, one that Poppy tried hard to avoid seeing ever again.
"Barb doesn't want to unite us. She...she wants to destroy us."
The words left a sour taste in her mouth and after they were said.
"I... I can't believe another queen would use her power would use her power for evil."
"I couldn't believe it, either," the flute sadly remarked as she watched Branch heal the Classical Trolls leader. "I was raised to believe that any Troll is capable of goodness. I was wrong. If I was right, then Queen Barb did a good job at hiding it."
"He'll be okay," Branch finally replied as he carried the Classical Troll in his arms, "I managed to patch up most of his wounds, but he needs rest if he didn't have any already."
"Then what do we do from here?" Meadow glanced around, still processing the horrible condition the beautiful landscape was drenched in.
"We need to get home as fast as we can and get everyone in the bunker. Not only that, but we also need to make sure our own string is safe."
"No, we can't. Not now, not yet. Besides, our string is safe."
"How do you know?"
"I just know. Do you know what else I know? I know we have to stop Barb from destroying all music. If we don't stop her, who will?"
"Poppy..." Biggie became afraid and uneasy, "You said this could be handled with hugs. How are we gonna hug our way out of this one?"
"Biggie, it's okay."
"Really? It's okay to be terrified? When am I gonna learn to stay away from the cotton candy?!"
Branch, Meadow, and the flute exchanged exasperated (in the flute's case, concerned) looks as Poppy did her best to comfort Biggie.
"No. As your queen, I promise that I will protect you. I will protect all of you, no matter what. I...pinky promise."
His ears perked up, Biggie stopped in his tracks and turned to face Poppy, who had extended her right pinky finger to show she was being serious.
"Poppy, you know you can't go back on a pinky promise."
"Never did, never will."
Biggie knew that tone in Poppy's voice and, despite his own doubts, extended his right pinky finger to complete the pinky promise. A loud, vibrant, and pink energy current flowed through them and expanded outward, knocking Branch, Meadow, and the flute down to the ground. In Sheila's case, because she wasn't tethered to the ground with a rope, she ended up being in the shockwave and was subsequently launched upward.
"Farewell!"
"I don't think so!" Meadow quickly recovered and throw a pile of seeds onto the ground below Sheila's location. From these seeds grew a tall plant that latched onto the casket, preventing the balloon from floating higher than she should've.
Poppy and Biggie's pinky promise ended with them levitating back down to the ground.
"Let it be so..."
"...and so it is."
"This just got real."
The flute was clearly impressed, contrasting with Branch's indifference and Meadow's agitation. She wouldn't let Sheila float away with her plants.
"Okay then," Poppy produced the map of the Troll Kingdom from her hair, "We have to get to the Country Trolls in Lonesame Flats before Barb does. Will you come with us?"
Everybody now turning to the flute, who gave Poppy's offer a moment of thought, "I need to. I owe Trollzart my life, for he saved it. Plus, someone needs to keep you all in check, and Pennywhistle is the woodwind for the job."
The flute, now known as Pennywhistle, slipped on a yellow hard hat as she donned a determined grin.
"Then we have a long journey ahead of us," Poppy smiled back, "Let's go!"
The group made their way to Sheila, but Poppy lagged behind to spare one more look at the destroyed Symphonyville. Specifically, a poster of the Rock Trolls' insignia that was stuck to the wall with a spear point knife. Giving it a good look for a minute or two, Poppy gripped the handle of the blade before pulling it out and storing it up in her hair. She watched as the sign flew away before she joined the others.
The Techno Trolls and the Classical Trolls were placed in front of each other into metal cages. Both groups looked absolutely miserable and downcast, with the adults attempting to calm down the younger members of their kin. A Techno Troll couple by the name of Kelpy and Seagrass were two such adults who did their best to ease the worries of a child, but not their own. They had noticed a magenta Techno Troll take their son Coral Blush and retreat from the battlefield, but it did little to assauge their fears. In this case, they made it their task to assauge the fears of an even younger Techno Troll who seemed without the company of her own parents. The Techno Troll in question had violet skin, azure eyes, a pink heart, and tears flowing from her eyes. She had every right to cry; she was merely a child.
Kelpy held the little Techno Troll in her arms as she rocked her back and forth. Seagrass tensed up at the sound of what appeared to be a Rock Troll approaching the gates to shut them up. Donning a black hooded cloak, the Rock Troll walked up to the Techno Trolls' cage, prompting everybody to dwindle into silence. Noticing the baby Techno Troll's gentle tears and the futile attempts of the presumed parents to calm her down, his hardened expression softened beneath the hood before he produced a guitar from his hair and tuned it just right. He considered this his attempt to soothe the young one.
("The House Of The Rising Sun" - Jeremy Renner)
There is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
And it's been the ruin of many poor boys
And God I know I'm one
My mother was a tailor
She sewed my new blue jeans
My father was a foolish man
Down in New Orleans
Now the only thing the foolish need
Is a suitcase and trunk
And the only time he's satisfied
Is when he's on the run
The Rock Troll's heartfelt lyrics, somber delivery, and passionate guitar playing all worked together in unison to create a musical sequence that was as awesome as it was heartbreaking. It was made clear at the halfway point that he harbored no resentment towards the two captured groups but rather he had no choice whatsoever in the plan Queen Barb had him entangled up in. Sympathy and solace was not lost on them for their entertainer.
Oh Mother, tell your children
To do as I say, not as I've done
Spend your life in misery and sin
In the House of the Rising Sun
Now I'm running to the station
Got my two feet on this train
But I know I'll wake where it's begun
To live my life...
There is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
It's been the ruin of many poor boys
And God I know I'm one
Playing the song's final notes, the Rock Troll sighed solemnly as the young Techno Troll gently smiled as she fell into a deep asleep. Satisfied with his work, he turned to walked away, not expecting a crowd applause.
"Thank you..."
He stopped and glanced over his shoulder at Kelpy and Seagrass, nodding in response. His humbleness intact, he continued to walk upstairs until he reached the exit, closing the door behind him. He felt like a stranger in a familiar land...