They were heading towards the Hero's Forge, for what reason Jim had no idea. He had just finished sparring with Draal and Aarrrgh, so why was Vendel taking him back there?
Whatever reason Vendel had, Jim was sure it had something to do with the large brutish troll lagging behind them. The troll looked like he could go toe to toe with Aarrrgh. And win.
Once they reached the entrance to the Hero's Forge Vendel called out to Draal and Aarrrgh. They looked just as confused as Jim felt.
Eventually, everyone was standing in a loose circle. Vendel, the mysterious troll, and Jim on one side. Draal and Aarrrgh on the other.
"It has come to my attention," Vendel said. "That you two have been…'pulling your punches' so to speak." He stared at Draal and Aarrrgh. They shifted nervously under the elder troll's intense gaze.
"'Pulling our punches? That's ridiculous! We have never-" Draal said. Vendel slammed his staff into the ground, cutting off Draal mid-sentence. Aarrrgh seemed to shrink back.
"Do not lie to me, Draal, son of Kanjigar!" Vendal said. He turned to Aarrrgh. "You are just as guilty as he! I understand your position as a pacifist, Aarrrgh, but the Trollhunter's training comes first."
Draal winced and Aarrrgh nodded. They both looked at the ground, ashamed.
"What you're accusing them of, it's not true!" Jim said. "If they were pulling their punches they would have told me. They wouldn't-they wouldn't lie." Even as he said those words Jim couldn't ignore the whisper in the back of his head, in his thoughts, that said they were pulling their punches. That they didn't tell him. That they lied to him.
He shifted under Vendel's calculating gaze. It felt like the elder troll was staring into his soul. As if everything he did, everything he said, everything he thought, was transparent. He knew it was stupid, but he felt so exposed.
"Hm." Vendel said. He raised an eyebrow. "Then not only are you inexperienced, you are blind as well, boy." His expression morphed into one of disdain, of contempt.
Jim scowled and looked away, trying to ignore the blush that was spreading across his face.
"I assume that Blinkous gave you orders to do so?" Vendel said, looking at Draal and Aarrrgh. They were silent, choosing instead to nod rather than speak. "Hmm. Just as I feared."
Jim, his frustration with Vendel momentarily forgotten, stared at Draal and Aarrrgh in shock. Were they really pulling their punches? When they were sparring together it didn't seem like it...but if they were...then…
"The Trollhunter is behind in his training, no doubt because of you two. Because I can no longer trust you to objectively treat the Trollhunter as a legitimate opponent, I have chosen another troll. A champion." Vendel said. "One who will not pull his punches."
"But that's not fair-!" Jim said.
"I do not care if you think that my decision is unfair, boy! You have no say in the matter!"
Jim wanted so badly to defend his friends, it wasn't fair that Vendel was taking out his frustrations on them. But Draal and Aarrrgh, realizing what he was about to do, shook their heads vigorously. Jim was reluctant to back down, but he did so anyway, worried that any more outbursts would get him and his friends in even more trouble.
Vendel motioned to the troll standing beside him. The troll was massive with hardened features and cold eyes that seemed to drill holes into Jim.
No, not holes. Thought Jim. Giant chasms of death.
The troll seemed more like a Gum-Gum than, well, a troll from Trollmarket.
I. Am. So screwed. Holy shit, if I have to fight him-
Jim's vision flicked for a moment, a wave of dizziness passing over him. The sparring session with Draal earlier had left him both physically and mentally drained. He couldn't find any strength to deal with Vendel and everything and everyone else.
He was only vaguely aware of Vendel speaking and motioning-probably to the giant troll of death next to him. He really, really, didn't want to die. And, if the mysterious troll was going to be his opponent, then he was most definitely going to die.
Jim turned away from the four trolls, refusing to continue those thoughts. Even thinking felt exhausting. He let the expression on his face fall and, rubbing his eyes, tried to muster up enough strength to function.
He looked down, his eyes drawn to the floor that he was standing on.
The floor looked inviting. Jim paused, thinking briefly of what it would feel like if he were to sit down and stretch out his legs in front of him. The longer he thought about it the more the floor called to him. He was about to just say 'screw it' and sit down regardless of what everyone else would think, when he heard someone clear their throat.
His head jerked up, not even realizing that it had been tilted towards the floor. He turned around to face the four trolls who were all staring at him. He wanted to curl in on himself under the intensity of all of their gazes combined. He felt oddly self-conscious.
Crap, are they waiting for me to say something?
Think of something to say! Anything! Literally anything that sounds Trollhunter-ish!
"I think-yes. Excellent." Jim said. He smiled sheepishly, trying not to grimace. "Just to-just to clarify, what was the plan again?"
"If you had been paying attention Trollhunter," Vendel said. "You would know that I intend for you to spar tonight."
"Right. Right! Exactly wha-wait, what?" Jim said. Vendel's statement, said so matter-of-factly, was like a slap to the face. He reeled back, not bothering to hide the betrayal he felt.
The bit of hope, hope that he would be able to pretend that his life was normal again, was crushed in an instant. It was incredible how Vendel knew exactly what to say to him to make him feel like crap.
His face fell. He wanted to object, wanted to argue that no he couldn't spar tonight, he had to make dinner for his mom and finish his schoolwork and have a normal life for once but when he opened his mouth only a timid squeak came out.
Jim knew that if he forced himself to speak his voice would tremble and so would his lips and then he'd start to cry because he had a life outside of being the Trollhunter and that life was slowly falling apart and he couldn't do anything about it because being the Trollhunter always comes first, no matter what.
He tried to argue against that, tried to reason with himself that his personal life came first. That it was more important than swinging around a sword made of daylight and pretending to play the hero. But he failed. He knew, deep down, that his number one priority was his role as the Trollhunter. That if he had to choose between having a normal life and being the Trollhunter, he would have to choose the latter. The realization left a bitter taste in his thoughts.
It wasn't unfair, it was perfectly fair. It was his responsibility and it would continue to be his responsibility until the day he dies. He really did have no say in the matter.
Strickler was right to call him Young Atlas, as much as he hated to admit it. The weight on his shoulders seemed to press down even harder, as if the sole purpose of it was to break him until there was nothing left to break.
"Then we will begin post haste!" Vendel said.
Jim wanted to scream.