When Kanjigar had been still alive he had never thought much about the Void. No, sure thing, he had always known that it was the mysterious space where his venerable predecessors stayed, however… Yes, pondering too much about its true nature or the way it worked had been out of the question. Trolls rarely talked about the afterlife, preferring to focus on those still alive.
And the Void somehow felt outside the traditional beliefs. Well, in the end, it was the creation of human magic.
Nevertheless, the discovery that it was possible to conjure all kinds of different stuff there was quite a shock to Kanjigar. On the other hand, it made surprisingly much sense - yes, all trollhunters had a responsibility to oversee their successor's actions, however, no one would do it non-stop, be it out of respect for the current champion's privacy or simply because it would be too dull.
The warrior could see that most of his predecessors would rather indulge in their hobbies, spars, or simply idle chatting. If initially there had been some curiosity regarding the first human champion and his survival chances, it had diminished tremendously as the days had passed. Unkar was apparently the most disappointed that he still had kept the title of the one with the shortest term as the Trollhunter and refused to watch young Jim's actions altogether.
Everyone else demonstrated various degrees of interest. It went from occasional glimpse and 'oh, so fleshbag hasn't kicked the bucket yet?' to hours of watching and betting on possible outcomes depending on the troll.
Kanjigar himself mostly got a proper look during fights and spars only, trying to avoid times of the boy's mental struggles. In the end, the warrior continued to blame himself for the kid's unfortunate predicament.
And, of course, there was a certain someone who took the responsibility wholeheartedly.
Deya the Deliverer. The first and the most respected Trollhunter, the one who had paved the road for everyone coming after her. No, of course, Kanjigar knew she was sympathetic with the current champion, but her attention was still surprising.
"Skinny Legs will have a match with your son," she stated with a sigh as the warrior approached her.
Kanjigar wondered if Deya wanted to add or ask something but refrained for the sake of their mutual respect. He also couldn't help noticing a little nickname she had given to the kid - the female obviously liked the boy.
"I know," the warrior nodded forlornly. "And honestly, I wish I could talk to Draal about… well, everything."
The entire situation was such a mess that the noble troll had no idea where to start. His son's behavior had crossed the line in so many ways that it caused a major headache.
So many representatives of his kind had strayed from the right path because of seemingly innocent reasons. Kanjigar would never wish Draal to end like that.
"He may be an ass, but I doubt he's that horrible," Deya chuckled.
Oh, apparently, he had voiced his rant or something. Or maybe his emotions were too obvious from his expression.
"My son should have been more aware of the situation," Kanjigar groaned. "He's going to fight someone who's no different from a whelp. I didn't raise him to be a bully, so why would he…"
"To be fair, Skinny Legs is more of a fleshbag equivalent of a youngling," the female interrupted. "And… he clearly has done a perfect job with provocation."
She sounded slightly confused as she continued:
"And it makes no sense! I could swear the kid hated fighting with passion, however…"
'However, at times, it feels like he enjoys it too much'.
Without any doubt, that was the part left unsaid. Kanjigar had noticed the tendency as well.
Once upon a time, the noble warrior had genuinely believed that his predecessors in the Void were basically omniscient. Though he had realized his mistake even before the death, and right now, being one of those spirits of the past, he could say for sure that they were surprisingly limited.
No previous Trollhunter could see everything in the living world - only their successor and his actions. It was as if all of them followed the boy.
On the other hand, all of them possessed an ability to glimpse inside the current champion's soul. That was why Deya was confused - and Kanjigar couldn't even blame her.
James Lake had such a bizarre psyche. No, sure thing, the troll expected that it would have been different to relate to a human. That kind simply had a different mindset and complex emotions.
So, young Jim being worried about stuff no troll would ever be concerned with was understandable.
His occasional spikes of aggression and violent thoughts were not.
"He's a human, so it's difficult to judge what's right or wrong with him," Kanjigar muttered, knowing well enough that his answer was legit escapism. As the boy's predecessors, they all needed to put much effort into guiding him, yet…
To start with, they had never bothered to summon him inside the Void and talk to him - that matter was too controversial as the majority voted against it. 'No achievements to show his worth' - that was the end decision, as unfair as possible. Even Unkar had been summoned once! But of course, Jim was a fleshbag and outsider, so the previous trollhunters were biased against him.
"Kanjigar, you might have forgotten already, but I know much when it comes to fleshbags," Deya's voice broke his musings. "Perhaps, even more than I wish… And at times, I couldn't help but think that Skinny Legs is no different from a troll youngling…"
She stopped, noticing skepticism in her successor's expression.
"I know it sounds crazy, but all those tendencies! They are not normal, besides…"
"Well, what did you expect from an impure whelp?"
That question came out of nowhere, and both trolls turned to face another spirit who had apparently joined them somewhere amid the conversation.
Deya groaned - and Kanjigar could relate. Maddrux the Many was known as the most eccentric, whimsical, and outright deranged Trollhunter for a reason. Everyone else in the Void either couldn't stand them at all or could tolerate only some of the countless facets of their personality.
Besides, there was the whole deal with the Aspectus stone - Maddrux had somehow convinced each of his successors (well, except for Unkar) to try that one. Kanjigar hated even the memory of that experience because it had been an encounter with some of his unsightly sides.
And Maddrux never bothered with being likable - or at least comprehensible. Each time someone talked with them, it meant facing some new personality altogether, be it sarcastic bastard, mean bully, goody-two-shoes, jester, or even outstanding leader or enigmatic wiseman. That alone would drive anyone crazy.
Deya most likely thought along the same lines. Apparently, she also had way more experience dealing with the eccentric troll, judging from her not-that-happy expression.
"Maddrux, we've already discussed the possibility - our successor isn't a changeling," Kanjigar sighed, wondering what facet of the weirdo's personality he was dealing with. His relaxed demeanor suggested that at least it was civil enough.
Nevertheless, Maddrux's theory definitely came out of nowhere. Young Jim simply couldn't be one of the shapeshifting trolls - those couldn't stay in their human guise all the time as it would make them uncomfortable and sick. At least a momentary shift into the true form was a vital need for them, so some Trollhunter would have noticed that.
"Who said he was a changeling?" the weirdo shrugged.
"You," Deya spat, obviously not amused.
"Don't remember that."
No wonder most residents of the Void avoided Maddrux like the plague. The first Trollhunter was already losing her cool, and Kanjigar could feel migraine building.
"Ignore them," he whispered, praying that Maddrux would lose interest and go to bother someone else.
"So should we intervene somehow to stop Jim's rematch with Draal," the noble troll asked louder, deliberately avoiding looking at the weirdo.
"We are limited in our options," Deya responded. Unlike Kanjigar, though, she still shot an occasional annoyed glance in Maddrux's direction. "It's not like we can deliver the message to anyone with enough authority to cancel that pointless fight."
She was right. Vendel could put a stop to it effortlessly, however, the old goat had taken an onlooker position for whatever reason. He needed some push to take Jim's side - and wouldn't an involvement from some past Trollhunter's work as one?
"I wish I could reason with my son," Kanjigar muttered. Draal was a troll with honor, he would have realized his mistake if someone he respected pointed it out.
It was impossible in the end. A soul couldn't exit the Void that easily, otherwise most residents would have ventured exploring the world a long time ago.
So the father could only hope that his only child would come to his senses himself, even if the chances were tiny.
"What's with this doom and gloom?" Maddrux complained, never getting the hint that they weren't welcome to join the conversation. "It's the impure whelp we're talking about. He'll be fine - his kind has always been surprisingly resourceful!"
They hugged Deya's shoulders in an overfamiliar manner. Kanjigar guessed it was an attempt to comfort or cheer up, but alas, the first Trollhunter wasn't happy with such random closeness. The next second her fist met the eccentric troll's face. Not that it would hurt or something - all of them were dead after all - but probably, the weirdo might have finally read the mood.
"Whatever," Maddrux shrugged. It was impossible to tell if they cared or not though. "Just don't run crying to me when you need some insight."
"As if someone would ever seek an insight from an unhinged troll," Deya grumbled, watching them leave.
That was just a stupid event, not that different from occasional arguments past Trollhunters tended to have, however, Kanjigar couldn't shake off the feeling that they both had made a mistake somewhere…
Jim wondered why everything had become so complicated. He hadn't been able to confess his feeling to Claire or even pass the letter to her. Then he chickened when it came to hiding the message directed to his mom. The teen could try to find an excuse for the last one, like Barbara being too close for the entire evening or something, but the truth was that he simply wasn't able to say farewell. After all, right now, the woman was at work, and Jim had more than enough time to find some good place to put the letter, yet the envelope still remained in his bag.
Apparently, he would burden Toby with yet another difficult job.
The teen sighed. The incoming fight didn't instill any confidence. Sure thing, that wouldn't be his first battle against a troll, but…
Jim had engaged in a swordfight with Bular - but wasn't that just winning time until he had managed to escape?
There had been the clash in the museum - but hadn't he won that one because of the teamwork and a swarm of goblins?
The Trollhunter had already gotten a good image of Draal's strength and skill - hadn't the son of Kanjigar basically wiped the floor with him?
Jim wasn't that delusional. He couldn't win in the strength or endurance department (and speed and agility were rather dubious). Skill or experience? Some days of training meant nothing against the opponent who had decades of those.
It left a witty strategy and…
Using overconfidence against the troll. Hadn't Barbara advised him something along those lines?
But what kind of tactics could work? Jim sighed, wondering if he should have called Toby to brainstorm together. Or maybe Douxie - wasn't the wizard-in-training more knowledgeable about all kinds of magical creatures?
Right now, the teen regretted that he hadn't bothered with learning more about trolls. He had Blinky, who was always enthusiastic when it came to giving him some books and even proposed to teach the boy Trollspeak.
And he had missed the opportunity entirely, trying to find some excuse like the lack of time or need to focus on the school stuff. Who would need Algebra when there was an actual danger to their life?
Jim sighed and bent to retrieve a tome of The Brief Recapitulation of Troll Lore. Apparently, that one contained more than enough valuable information. Alas, the teen couldn't read it at all - all those letters made no sense to him.
Yet… Some part of his soul liked the shape of those unreadable symbols. It was eager to learn more about trolls and their culture, even if it meant sacrificing time devoted to school studies. The teen hated that duality - he was against losing any part of his normal everyday life. That was the pillar keeping him sane in all those crazy events his mantle had brought him. It was his safe haven, the place to return.
Losing even the smallest fragment of this peace would be devastating, even if some part of his being didn't mind it.
Jim turned several pages, looking at illustrations. Some of those depicted battles - so perhaps, there was also a detailed description of those. Maybe even thorough analysis - because why not? If he could read that, it might have given the boy at least some idea of how to deal with the opponent.
Right now, there were only three rules of trollhunting available - and the teen was comfortable only with the first one. The second was simply out of the question, and the third? That had to be a sick joke, probably some kind of crude troll humor.
The lack of lighting didn't help, and Jim considered turning on the lights. Barbara was out in any case, so she wouldn't be alarmed by her son staying up this late.
Wait, no, he couldn't do that - Toby's window was across his. His best friend had already been exhausted after the previous sleepless night. Jim would hate worried him even more.
Probably using his phone for some light would be better. The teen reached for it without looking and grabbed something round instead.
The amulet.
"Oh, come on, you can stop with that," he complained aloud. "I'm not running from responsibility, OK? But you probably need to consider who will work as my successor because I'll be a pancake after that match with Draal, and I doubt that pancakes qualify as champions!"
Funny thing, Jim could swear he could feel some sympathy in its calming blue glow.
"You know, Douxie's told that you're kinda my partner, so some help? Do you have any power-ups? Or, I dunno, an ultimate skill? Right now, I need one!"
And somehow, he ended up talking to the inanimate object once again. Desperation was a scary thing for sure. Besides, power-ups or ultimate skills? Wouldn't someone like Blinky or Douxie have mentioned those?
Everything was pointless. The best the amulet could do at the moment would be to work as a light source during Jim's attempt to decipher illustrations in the book.
Troll letters looked slightly odd under that dim blue glow - the teen could swear he could read those…
Wait, he actually could - the previously mysterious symbols turned into familiar English under the amulet's light.
Why had no one bothered to inform the struggling champion about such a convenient function again? Did everyone expect him to figure it himself? Now Blinky's demands about reading The Brief Recapitulation stopped looking that unreasonable.
Of course, Daylight didn't help the teen with additional strength, but at least he could try to find a working strategy now…
She had gotten careless and suffered a crushing defeat. Barverra cursed herself for dropping the guard around Stricklander. She knew he was a schemer, she knew he looked for openings - and she still had let him get the upper hand!
No, the daughter of Gunmar should have gotten rid of that snake a long time ago, before he had managed to build his defense lines. And now he was there, using Jim as his shield!
And the worst part of it was that everything was basically Barverra's fault. She had allowed the impure to trick her into a fake sense of security. She had slipped with mentioning the clinics and showed concern when he had mentioned the Nunez family.
No, everything had gone downhill way earlier. Who she tried to fool? If Jim had known the truth from the very start, Stricklander could have schemed for all the eternity - and her boy would have still refused to let him get too close!
There was no point in crying over the spilled milk. The daughter of Gunmar needed to bounce back and counterattack - preferably in the manner which would obliterate her opponent for good.
Why did she, the once feared Herald of Doom, feel as lost and useless as a whelp? She was still one of the most intelligent and resourceful trolls around - some throughout analysis would help find Stricklander's weak spot.
He had pointed out her weakness - so what? Obviously, he had some gaps in his defenses too - and once Barverra learned about those, her mercy would reach its limit.
She closed her eyes, recalling the conversation with the Head of the Janus Order. That winged bastard definitely had some plan, leading the conversation in a convenient direction.
His fishy request for another changeling in Arcadia - Stricklander could tell whatever he wanted to fool her, but the daughter of Gunmar was one hundred percent sure that the one he needed wasn't a simple errand boy.
The Nunez family. Why that one? Granted, it was actually a household the Janus Order would have picked up for their plot, and any other time Barverra wouldn't have paid any attention to that detail, however…
Jim had a crush on the daughter of that family, and Stricklander obviously put much effort into weaving as many connections to her son as possible…
No, it simply didn't add to form a coherent picture. The impure already had an ultimate bond with her son, according to his own testimony. Not to mention that Jim had already confirmed several times that he liked and respected his History teacher. So what was the point in establishing another link, especially such a roundway one? Everyone who knew her boy could tell for sure that it would be easier to get to him through Toby, his best friend. Barverra refused to believe that someone of Stricklander's caliber would have missed that detail.
Another odd point was that foolish young changeling in her clinics. Rezz had been a spy, clearly sent to keep an eye on the daughter of Gunmar and her actions, so that…
Wait, wait, wait!
What exactly had Stricklander told her? Had there been anything that could be only about Jim and not someone else?
"I can already imagine the hurt look of his blue eyes…"
A simple deduction - there were equal chances that Barverra's son had or hadn't inherited her eye color. That bastard had bet on the first one - and hit the bullseye. And she foolishly confirmed it with her panicking reaction! Why couldn't she have told something like 'oh, last time I checked those were red'?
"Oh, I could. The poor child is so lost and confused…"
Just a general phrase, an attempt to trap the worried mother.
"He's such a good child, genuinely worried for his dear mom working so much."
Another deduction - her son was supposed to be fifteen, meaning being a tiny whelp heavily dependent on his parent. Her being out so often would clearly have caused anxiety and fear.
"And he obviously wishes to have a father, so imagine how easy for your boy to get attached to someone smart and charismatic, who's willing to listen to his worries…"
And that was simply a blatant lie to feed upon Barverra's fears.
Stricklander had been bluffing - now that the daughter of Gunmar had left the hideout and enjoyed fresh air in the forest, it had become clear as a day. If the head of the Janus Order had known more, he would have dropped way more dangerous hints. Like bringing up Jim's love for cooking or simply mentioning actual names.
Apparently, the winged changeling had been right, and she couldn't think straight in the situation when someone important was in danger. Calming down and reconsidering had already caused a miracle.
Alas, it was already too late. Bluff or not, Barverra had sealed a deal with Stricklander, and breaking her word was out of the question.
Besides… Hadn't she forgotten something? If the impure had been simply bluffing, it would have been so much easier, but unfortunately, his bluff hadn't come out of nowhere and…
The daughter of Gunmar smirked. She had found it, the missing piece to the puzzle. After all, Stricklander had already approached her cover identity, Barbara Lake.
The situation stopped being that confusing all of a sudden. The changeling simply had a theory of Barbara and Barverra being one and the same, yet not enough proof. All of his scheming, puzzling strategies, and manipulations were simply his way of gathering more evidence.
And apparently, when it came to keeping her secret safe, the daughter of Gunmar still had the upper hand. But why? Stricklander had been proactive in that direction for sure, he should have gathered more than enough information to prove his theory.
Unless…
Unless there was also something that had made him doubt his hypothesis, like…
Yes, that was it! Barverra's human act had been convincing enough, meaning that she should have pushed more in that direction. So what if the winged bastard had outsmarted her tonight? The second round would be her flawless victory - and to achieve that? So far, she had played a worried mother, but that hadn't been enough.
The daughter of Gunmar needed the whole new tactics altogether, and the best one would be pulling something that Stricklander would never associate with the Herald of Doom even in his wildest fantasy.
She had to play lovey-dovey with him. No, of course not out of nowhere, some previous development was needed. First, demonstrating some interest in Walter (hadn't he requested that at least once?), some compliments here and there, some physical intimacy, and…
"I was looking for you," someone grumbled underneath. Barverra cast a quick glance down, not that willing to leave her comfy perch on a tree branch.
It was surprising to see Bular, especially knowing this time he had been the one searching. On the other hand, her crude brother had somehow managed to break her train of thought before it derailed too much.
"What for?" the female inquired without any interest. "I was at the base earlier, entertaining Stricklander…"
"Have you ripped him apart?" the brute grinned with anticipation, definitely misinterpreting her phrase. He looked so reminiscent of a small boy waiting for Santa that it would be an outright villainy to crush his hopes.
Not that the daughter of Gunmar cared about Bular's psyche.
"No," she muttered. "Even if I wish I had… Anyway, from now on, we cannot touch that bastard."
"What?" the brute roared.
In some parallel world, he might have accepted it silently. Here? It was simply impossible.
"Bular, I've made a pact with him, so swallow it," Barverra snarled back. As if she liked the situation herself! However, that deal would guarantee Jim's safety even if Stricklander was one hundred percent sure about him being Gunmar's grandson.
It took countless painful minutes to explain to her brother the entire situation - well, while omitting a good chunk of details. Bular stubbornly refused to understand - and it wasn't because he was such a dimwit. No, the problem lay exactly in the omitted details. Without those, nothing made any sense.
"Your schemes make me want to puke," the son of Gunmar complained. "I get it, your son is in potential danger, but why complicate everything so much?"
He wanted to puke even without knowing about her plan of seducing the head of the Janus Order. That one would be the last thing she would share with him, even if for the sake of keeping his sanity intact.
"Let's do it this way - you protect your whelp, and I go and make a pancake out of that bastard," Bular suggested.
Of course, Barverra appreciated that idea, and it would have worked if her son had been actually a troll whelp, aware of everything. Alas, nothing was that easy.
"Where's the guarantee that he won't outsmart you?"
"Then you go and slice him apart, and I'll be guarding your cave!"
Why did he decide to be a good brother right now? An absolutely surreal image of Bular passing in her backyard momentarily flashed through the female's mind. Imaginary Nancy approached her, asking:
"Oh my, your dog is so big - is he nice to cats?"
No way. There was simply no way that her dimwit and hotblooded brother could ever stay inside the human settlement without hunting all the neighbors. Barverra would prefer all of them alive.
"Have you lost your brains entirely?" she spat before her brother decided to make his plan a reality. "You'll bust my lair's location to Stricklander's goons!"
Somehow, the daughter of Gunmar managed to find a good enough excuse on the spot without making the brute suspicious. She had no need of his plans, even if those made perfect sense.
"Then your whelp can stay on my back all the time. I even promise to avoid fighting. And I want to see who and how will try to harm my nephew!"
She was so unfair to her brother as well. All his flaws aside, Bular still remained her family. And he could possibly become the family to Jim…
Could he, or was it just her wishful thinking? Not that long ago, Barverra witnessed herself how easily he had discarded his former subordinate only because that one could turn into a fleshbag. Her son was way more than that, an ultimate offense to the natural order of things itself.
No, her brother wasn't ready to know the truth - and she wasn't ready to tell him. Not to mention that even in the perfect case scenario - where Bular wouldn't disown anyone and start a massacre to cope with his shock and Jim would be cool with both being half-monster and having an inhuman uncle - the last plan suggested simply wouldn't work.
A tiny whelp could stay on the adult's back for weeks. A hyperactive teen would get bored in an hour max.
"Bular, just give up, I've already considered each option," the female sighed. "Until I corner that bastard, we should be careful."
"Maybe we can attack indirectly like you always do," the brute suggested. Well, at least, he had given up on defensive strategies.
"And how do you imagine that?"
Bular scheming was slightly amusing. Perhaps, he had changed as well - the brother she knew would have rushed in blindly.
"You can use that impure that pledged loyalty to you…"
Barverra hummed, considering the option. It wasn't that bad - the former Gumm-Gumm soldier was loyal enough to execute the command. Unfortunately, it would be too obvious, and Stricklander would understand who exactly staged the attack at once.
She couldn't use local changelings for the same reason. Wait, there was another one - was her name Shen? That one clearly attempted to overthrow the current leader. If Barverra helped that one in her power struggle, would Stricklander make any connections?
Anyway, it was a working strategy - and better than nothing.
Barbara expected Jim fast asleep, so seeing him cooking something in the kitchen at the ungodly early hour took her by surprise.
"I know you're an early bird, but it isn't even 5 AM," she ruffled her son's hair. "Have you gotten any sleep, kiddo?"
"Yep," he nodded. "Just woke up earlier…"
"Don't dare to lie to me, mister, I smell coffee," the woman sighed. "Seriously, Jim, I'm a horrible example when it comes to following a schedule - find someone better for that. You're still young, and one sleepless night may seem normal to you, but the lack of sleep may cause problems with health later and…"
She bit her tongue. Bringing lack of sleep and possibility of health problems with her crazy lifestyle? Jim would worry for no reason. After all, she was a troll, and human health conditions had never been a problem for her.
Luckily, the teen was either dozing off or simply unfocused to pay attention to her rant.
"Jim, just go to bed," Barbara nudged him gently. "You can still have a nap before school…"
"And you?" his blue eyes were full of concern. Even now, he was thinking about her well-being.
"I promise to be a good girl and have some sleep too," she smiled sheepishly. "Just need to do something, but it won't take more than half an hour…"
"Um, OK," Jim nodded reluctantly and headed upstairs.
At least this part of her life stayed stable. Barbara would hate losing that peace. Alas, its time was running out with the tremendous storm approaching.
With her son nowhere in sight, she could think a bit about the indirect help she could provide to Shen. And, of course, she couldn't forget about her strategy to throw Stricklander off her tracks.
With all of that, the important talk with Jim had been delayed once again. Barbara couldn't risk her boy - he could pull something reckless after learning the truth, like encountering his favorite teacher demanding answers.
Her phone vibrated, indicating an incoming message. The woman looked at the screen, wondering who could possibly write her at that hour. No, of course, it could be something work-related, but they rarely bothered her during her days off.
It was from Sarah. Why would her witch friend write to her? No, sure thing, they had parted ways civilly last time, but Freckles had hinted that talking again might have been impossible for some time.
Had the situation changed too much in the last few days?
Need to talk. Text you the time and place later.
The message was cryptic, and Barbara wished it wasn't reminiscent of spy fiction. Sarah was definitely overcautious - perhaps, for a reason.
The woman contemplated the possibilities. Something told her the future talk wouldn't be pleasant. Had the magic users finally decided to take the Trollhunter's side?