Hey, it's the author here. I'm not to sure on the quality of this chapter. I've come down with a cold, and was a bit groggy writing this. If it's bad, unreadable or even just plain ridiculous, please feel free to comment. I'll try my best to fix it and get a chapter out that people will love. Also, sorry for the slow development of characters, I just want to go in depth.
One more thing, I randomly came up with the title A Hard Truth, if anyone can think of a better name feel free to hmu, I'm open to any suggestions. Without further ado, the Gristle chapter...
A burgen, believe it or not, is a subspecies of the troll family, a broad category involving many types of creatures. From the happy Rainbow trolls, to depressed burgens and even emotionless grey-stone trolls, all fall under the family name Trocelius. However, the burgen are the largest species, as well as the fastest at developing into adulthood. A burgen can mature fully into an adult by the age of seven, while still maintaining the same lifespan as others under the same family.
With the quick maturing age of the burgens comes with a price. They have an abysmally low reproduction rate. Only one to, rarely, two burgen children are born a year if there's luck in the air. However, with the long lifespan and no natural predators, there is no need to worry about this species, as they are able to survive one to two years without any offspring being born. This is one reason why it's hard for a burgen to experience the feeling of 'happiness', as well as the fact their natural pollution is able to cripple the environment they reside in, in a matter of years, making the air hard to breath, the water hard to drink, and food hard to grow without severe processing.
This year was a special year, as there were two burgens born. One early in the year, and one two weeks after trollstice. The former is one with a saddening fate, as many burgens don't think they can care for a child, they instead sold the child to the king and queen of Burgentown for a large sum. The king and Queen are always willing to buy children, as they make for servants who will last a lifetime in service. The child's name was given to her by the Queen, Bridget, and she was put to work as soon as she could walk.
The second child has an opposite fate to the poor enslaved girl, a prince born of the high Queen Griselda and King Gristle Sr. The child's name is Gristle, as is customary to name don's after the father, a child with hope shining in his eyes from the first day he opened them. However, when Prince Gristle was only four months old, his mother ran away to elope with a castle guard, Brad, but the king was unfazed.
Topics such as 'love' are to close to the topic of 'happiness' for the burgens to truly understand. Many partners don't stay with together for more than a year, with feelings changing as often as the seasons. Gristle Sr, however has an obligation to prune and preen the young prince to become a king worthy of the burgen praise. He hasn't been able to have a child with his many previous wives, making Gristle only appear in his later years of life, making the king excited to have a successor.
Fast-forwards to the day of trollstice, as nothing happens in Burgentown, the first for the young prince whose far more than just excited for the occasion. Riding his tricycle around the castle, there's almost a rhythmic thump of excitement in the air. Even the guards restlessly fidget with excitement at the promise of being happy.
The prince breaks into the king's room, ramping off the royal pet crocodile, Barnabus, to land square on the burgen's chest, taking every ounce of air out of his lungs. Prince Grislte excited jumps up and down on the old burgens chest.
"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" Gristle yells at his father until he grabs two large handfuls of chest hair in his hand and rips them out," DADDY!"
Screaming into a sitting up position, launching his son into the air, but recovering enough to catch him enough before he hits the ground, King Gristle glares at his young son for a second before wiping the tired from his eyes.
"In the name of all things gray, what is it child?" The king groans out.
"It's trollstice!" The prince excitedly squeals out.
"Trollstice?" The king asks, finally feeling awake.
He jumps out of bed, quickly putting on his royal outfit and cape, then proceeds outside to look upon his kingdom. It's small, barely a mile in any direction, but it's a safe place for burgens, away from the poisonous creatures in the wild that would be more than willing to fight a burgen. King Gristle's father's father's father had founded this fine land, when he first discovered the trolls and their tree nearly two hundred years ago. Each year, a single day would be dedicated to eating a troll from the sacred tree, which would in turn bring happiness to all the burgen's who wouldn't experience it otherwise.
Yes, this is the rich history of his nation. With the population just under one hundred and fifty, but thanks to the highly reproductive manners of the trolls, he knows that there will definitely be enough for every subject in his kingdom to enjoy happiness for another year, even if it means eating the small troll children, but what should he care. They're just inferior beings that happen to be able to talk, it's their fault for being at the bottom of the food chain, at least in his opinion.
"Ah trollstice, our one day to be happy." King Gristle says to his son.
"Oh, I'm so excited!" Prince Gristle says with excited squeals," I can't wait to be happy, what's it feel like dad? It's it bubbly? Sweet, salty? I'll take anything as long as it isn't bitter!"
"Calm down my boy." King Gristle laughs," It's a sweet feeling, even sweeter than any sweet in the kingdom. It explodes like a firework in your stomach, filling the heart with numerous feelings that make you smile so wide your face feels like it'll split in half."
"Woah…" the prince says looking in awe at the troll tree.
The two chat happily, about their excitement, as they join the large league of burgens headed to the center of the kingdom, the large troll tree, where hundreds of brightly colored pods hand from assorted branches on the tree. Each has its own personality, some covered with glitter, some patched together with rainbow colors, other's monochrome yet still so bright and cheerful it hurts the burgen's eyes to actually look at.
Four of the royal chef assistance stang on a large stage in front of the crowd. Everyone begins to quiet each other until it's so quiet you can hear a pin drop. Two assistants raise their hands. The royal percussion starts beating rhythmic beats. The two flick their hands, and suddenly lighter fluid appears in their hands, they squeeze the bottles onto two large grills to either side of them.
"Please give it up for your keeper of the trolls…" a voice booms as a center platform begins to rise," Your minister of happiness...Your royal chef!"
"Me!" A large clock drops from the rising figure revealing the King's royal Chef, Helga Griswold, but due to her power and role likes to be called Chef.
The burgens scream with delight, half chanting 'Trolls!' the other screaming at seeing the burgen hero in front of their very eyes. Yes, Chef has a glorious reputation, obtaining the position of Royal Chef at the ripe age of twenty, she's served the current king for twenty years, making sure every Trollstice has gone off without a hitch. She loves to see the subjects happy, because it means that she still has power over them.
She lifts her knifes into the air, the strikes them together over the grills, until the sparks off of the knives light the fires, which roar into the air with a mighty burst of flame. Everyone screams and yells in excitement. Chef silences the large crowd, holding up her ceremonial staff to the crowd.
"Today is a special trollstice, as there is one among us who has never eaten a troll." Chef announces loudly, smirking to the king and the young prince.
"Omg, she's talking about meee!" Prince Gristle shrieks to his father.
"Prince Gristle!" She announces loudly pointing her spear towards the small prince.
"Don't worry." King Gristle says with a laugh while placing Gristle on the spear's head," I was nervous my first time."
Prince Gristle gives two unsteady thumbs up, to which his father responds with the same. Chef sets down the prince in front of the gate, opening it slowly. The prince hastily runs into the large cage.
Once inside he notices the air is cleaner with a slightly smell, what he could only think is vanilla due to the candy he had had the previous week. The shade of the tree is pleasantly cool, the pods give off their own light, creating a small rainbow on the ground from the colors. Small twinkles of chimes come from throughout the tree, maybe from small windchimes on the pods which the trolls inhabit. He looks hard, but for some reason there's no troll activity.
'They're just scared, probably.' the prince thinks to himself.
"I have chosen an extra special troll for you." Chef says, snapping Gristles attention back to her while she flicks a pod and grabs the contents," The kindest,most positive and sweetest troll among them all. And since every prince needs a princess, I give you the one they call 'Princess Poppy'."
Excited, the young burgen pulls the troll from Chef's hands and holds it tightly in his palms. It doesn't move, it might be sleeping, but Gristle shivers in anticipation at his first time experiencing happiness. He breathes deeply and whispers a quiet wish to the princess,' please make me happy', before shoving it in his mouth.
"What are you feeling?" Chef asks, excited to hear that she's done well yet again.
Gristle swishes the troll in his mouth a bit. It's not sweet, like his dad described it, but it's really, really bitter, and earthy. It's pretty gross actually. He wonders to himself if this is what happiness tastes like. It couldn't be, not after everyone was so excited. This tastes worse than everyday food in the kingdom, maybe it's special? No, there couldn't be a way that this was the true taste of trolls. He knows exactly what's wrong. He puckers up and spits out the troll so it lands across the cage.
"That one's rotten!" the prince yells," I need a new one."
Confused, chef walks over to the small troll with large pink hair. She picks up the troll, and the hair falls off into her hands. The prince walks over and knocks on the small troll body, it's solid, but too solid. Chef gasps and looks up in horror to the troll tree.
"It's fake!" She yells.
"Fake?" Every chimes in after her, with large audible gasps of horror.
"Fake?" The king screams, coming into the large cage.
Chef kicks the troll tree, dozens upon dozens of trolls land onto the ground. Instead of squirming like they usually would, they lay motionless. Chef knows what's going on before even the king, the trolls have escaped. Angry she pounds her fist against the tree, a fake troll hits her on the head, making her angrier. The king yells in frustration, making her flinch, before turning to see the usually peaceful calm eyes of the king, flared red in anger.
"Where are they?" He asks menacingly.
"Don't worry, we'll find them." Chef says, snapping her fingers and forcing her assistance to the ground, putting their ears down to listen to the ground.
Burgens have abnormally sensitive ears, which is seen more like a setback to them then anything, as any noise like a shout is amplified for them, almost immediately giving them a headache. However, now was one of the moments where this evolutionary trait has some purpose. Gristle puts his ears to the ground, being young he's the first to hear something, a small vibration from the tunnels underneath the city.
"When did they have time to dig the tunnels?" King Gristle asks angrilly to no one in particular.
"Sire, it's most likely left over from the great Grodhopper invasion five years ago." A guard says from the gate," The one that left any field crippled and the town without food for a year. We wiped out the Grodhoppers, but left their extensive caves, because it would take to much time and money to fill them up."
"Right, right, thanks Gary." King Gristle sighs while pinching the bridge of his nose," So they burrowed into the tunnels, but we know where the main infestation hit. We need to grab shovels, pickaxes, anything that can dig up the ground. We're going to find the trolls."
"Yes, sire, we'll make sure to find them." Chef says, eagerly dismissing her assistants.
"Griswold." The king says in a menacingly low tone," If you don't find those trolls, you're going to feel my wrath."
Chef touches her throat softly and gulps before nodding and heading off in the direction of the Burgen Bog, a dense forest full of willow trees, keeping water trapped in the air and soil, making it a bog. Located half a mile to the East of the town, all able bodied burgens carry their choice of digging tools, and begin to strike into the ground where any possible burrow might be. Nesting long-eared mice, feathered constrictors and even sharp tusked marmots lose their homes to the enraged burgens, digging into any hole they find. The burgens occasionally listen to the ground to try and figure where the trolls may be, digging where the reverberations of running are strongest.
After hours of trying to find the trolls, the sound of the footsteps long gone, and not a single troll captured, every burgen returns to bergen town, even more angry and upset than normal. The angriest among them is the enraged king. Angry that his son will never experience the happiness that's kept him going for years. Anger can't even describe the depths of his emotions.
"Sire, I can find them, I'll bring the prince happiness." Chef says hastily once the three arrive back at the castle.
"Throw her out." the king says with a freezing cold tone.
Spears at her neck, she's forced out of the castle. A mob of angry burgen grab her by the shoulders and legs, and move her towards the exit of burgen town. She tries to break free, hoping to escape and plea with the king to give her another chance. If she could find the trolls again, the power to influence the king and is views would be hers again. She wants the power to control the kingdom, she wants to get the trust back, but these burgen are to strong and keep forcing her farther and farther away from her goal.
"Sire, please!" She screams to the castle.
The gates fly open, both at the castle and the entrance to Bergen town. The kings fiery glare could be felt, even from the three blocks she had been carried. She isn't forgiven, a fate much worse than she would've thought is now in store for her.
"She is banished from Bergen town forever!" the king commands," She will never set another foot in here, leave her to rot with the rest of the land!"
"No! I can find the trolls!" Chef screams to try and sway the king," I'll make you happy, I'll make you all happy! I'll find the trolls!"
The king slams his gates, moments before she's thrown, face-first into the mud. It's in her eyes, mouth and nose. She groans and gets up on her elbows, her pristine white robe gifted to her by the king, is stained and tattered, like her pride. She glares at the castle, a new hatred swelling in her gut.
"And shove them down your ungrateful throats." She curses, getting up and walking towards the Bergen Bog, a wicked smile growing on her face.
Meanwhile, the king sorrowfully sinks into his throne. He puts his hands on his temples, trying to think of a way to remedy the situation. He can't think of anything. By his guess, it won't even take until the morning until the bergens show up to take his crown, or his head if they're really that mad. He knows that now he'll only be remembered as the king who lost the trolls for everybody, not the king who single handedly stopped a plague of crop destroying Grodhoppers, or the king who stopped the Pickle Flu from becoming an epidemic. He's so lost in depressing thoughts, he doesn't even notice the scullery maid cleaning in the corner, no less his own son who's already next to his throne before he can even process it.
"Daddy, how am I supposed to be happy now?" Prince Gristle asks, shocking his father back into real time.
The king looks down to his young son. His pride and joy, wrapped up in a small bundle, something that will always bring a smile to his face. He picks up his son and sets him on his lap, staring lovingly into his eyes.
"You aren't." The king says, changing his expression faster than lightning into an angry grimace," You will never, never, never, ever be happy, ever."
"Ever?" the prince asks, tears forming in his eyes.
"Never." The king sighs, petting his son's head.
The king sends the prince off to bed, sitting at his throne staring at the door. Once the sun peaks and loud bangs emerge from the doors of the castle. Carefully the king stands, walking to the door, praying to whatever may be out there that his son won't have to witness this. He opens the door to a large mob of bergens.
With a smile he takes off his crown and puts it on the ground. So ends the reign of the Royal Screw Up, and begins the Reign of New Beginnings under king Gristle Jr.