There was a time when the sky turned blue during the day. Not anymore - it was pitch black at night with a red moon and stars (humans probably wouldn't believe it if someone told them those used to be white!) and muted red in the daytime. Probably the best symbol of humanity's unfortunate fate in the world under Gunmar's rule.
Eternal night. Stricklander found the name rather poetic. Well, the Pale Lady had been the one to craft it. The fearsome Skullcrusher himself would have probably settled with something more practical.
Stricklander checked his watch, noting he had to hurry up to get to his destination right in time. Being late would have gotten him into trouble, so he picked up his pace.
Oh, of course, if he had assumed his true form, his wings would have taken him right to the destination in no time. Alas, it was a human territory, the merciful Pale Lady's sacred land, or, as the Janus Order cynically called it, a cattle farm.
When Gunmar had broken out and the day had turned red, humanity had been doomed. And, unfortunately, for the Janus Order, they wouldn't have lived for longer.
Some luck combined with quick thinking and appeasing Gunmar's ego had saved everyone.
Well, the entire changeling system and the luckier part of humanity at least.
The fearsome Skullcrusher liked fleshbag meat too much, so stirring his thoughts in the correct direction had led to the current status.
Gumm-gumms ruled over the most surface.
Humanity had hidden behind the stone walls and 'divine protection'.
And the Janus Order had transformed into the Divine Argante Cult, basically seizing control over all survivors' lives and keeping Gunmar and his high-ranked generals provided with fresh meat.
Every human life was under control as changelings appraised everyone's roles, assigned appropriate jobs, arranged marriages, and set childbirth quotas. Those deemed useless ended as food for Gumm-gumms. The same happened to people reaching quotas.
No, of course, humans had no idea about that. Fulfilling quotas were encouraged.
'Pale Lady favors diligent ones.'
'Those who fulfill their roles will reach the Blessed Paradise.'
The propaganda did miracles - to the point that unsuspecting victims went to the cart, bringing them to meet a certain death with a smile.
Like now, for example. Stricklander tried to count people set for delivery as he finally reached the destination.
Yeah, as if it would be easy with all the relatives and friends coming to see them off!
The way it looked like a festival disgusted him to the core. Perhaps, Stricklander should have brought it up during the next council. They really needed to limit attendance.
"It's a High Priest!" someone yelled, noticing his attire, and the next moment, Stricklander was already surrounded by an excited crowd asking for blessings.
"High Priest, my foolish son doesn't realize how lucky he is!" a woman complained. "I feel my poor little Eli is possessed as he tells delirious stories of priests being inhuman!"
Stricklander unwittingly cast a look at the cart, finding out a restrained and gaged teen amid people. Oh, sure thing, in addition to more regular 'useless' and 'fulfilled their quota' categories, there was a third one, the top priority for disposal. Potential rebels, conspiracy theories lovers, and those who had accidentally learned the truth.
"Pale Lady is merciful," he said aloud with a fake reverence. "Your son is already saved."
Some empty, hypocritical words. Ironically, enough to bring some peace to an anxious mother.
Stricklander felt some pity for the boy, though. By some joke of fate, the kid had ended up as a rare sane person amid this crazy world, yet it was for worse. While everyone else would head to death with a happy smile, he would need to go through the terror and hopelessness, fully aware that nothing good waited for him and forced to watch all the dear people basically celebrating his execution.
That was the main reason why Stricklander had always tried to keep up the illusion for as long as possible. Though...
The propaganda was strong, and telling the truth would often be met with disbelief and skepticism.
Waking up wasn't that easy.
A vivid memory flashed through his mind.
'Is it a joke? What are you talking about, Walter?' she inquired, her beautiful blue eyes full of conflicting emotions.
Stricklander shook his head. There was no time to indulge in reminiscence. He had to focus on the task, besides, there was a man in the cult robes hurrying towards him already. Stricklander tried to remember the name of the changeling in question, but it escaped him.
"Strick- I mean, High Priest Walter? What are you doing here?"
Obviously, the cultist never expected to see him here - to the point of nearly blurting out Stricklander's true name. No wonder he was still low-ranked.
"Greetings, Brother." Stricklander gave him a polite smile, leading the changeling away from the curious crowd, and added quietly: "I'm here to assist you with the delivery."
"Oh." The cultist nodded with a dumb expression. "But aren't you working with Nomura or Scaarbach? And where's Ash?"
Stricklander fought the urge to roll his eyes. The low ranks should have obeyed without questioning a thing.
"Your regular partner will sit this one out," he said slowly, trying to hide the irritation. "This delivery is for Prince Bular himself, and as you know, rebels are rampant lately. We cannot allow a failure here."
"Right," the changeling squeaked and hurried up to finish with the boarding. The crowd dispersed obediently, leaving only two cult members by the cart.
Stricklander still marveled how no one hadn't questioned the entire predicament. The cart was covered, allowing no source of lighting (not that there was enough light under those red skies anyway). The people inside had no way to check what was going on outside too. No matter how much Stricklander looked at it, he could only see something geared to transporting prisoners, not free people.
"Let's go!" the cultist yelled from the driver's seat. Stricklander nodded and took his place by his side.
Horseless carts were just one of the things the Cult kept away from regular humans. The scientific progress was under tight control, ensuring that the 'cattle' had no means to assist their rebellion. So many convenient inventions were posed as 'divine miracles'.
The travel shouldn't have been that long. Stricklander could say his sudden partner was bored though and judging from his fidgeting, he was probably interested in having an idle talk.
No way, he wasn't interested in entertaining that dimwit.
"Can we speed up a bit?" Stricklander asked at last, after checking the time. "I'd rather finish it fast - I have a rendezvous with a charming redhead lady to attend!"
"Sure thing!" The cultist beamed, obeying the command. However, he had definitely misinterpreted the second part as an icebreaker or something. "But a rendezvous? Aren't that a borderline breaching of the codex?"
Stricklander already regretted telling more than needed.
"Quite the contrary," he stated with barely hidden annoyance, "keeping our cover intact is vital. Dating is just a part of it."
"Oh, right." The cultist let out an embarrassed laugh. "Besides, I've heard that you even used to be married and adopted a kid but got rid of both once it became too dangerous for your cover..."
Stricklander said nothing in response. That wasn't a part of his life he wished to recall. Besides...
He was looking at a small grove ahead. Some trees, twisted with Morgana's magic - brown and red leaves instead of green.
Much like the blue, green color was the relic of the past now.
"Something wrong?" the cultist asked curiously.
"No, everything's good. I'd even say - according to the plan," Stricklander replied with a smile. His partner shifted his attention to the road.
Good.
The moment was perfect. Stricklander stood up, dropping his human disguise.
The cultist stared at him in confusion.
"Why are you-"
The question was never finished. Stricklander hid the dagger after his unfortunate partner exploded into the cloud of grey dust.
Yet another casualty. A needed one, he reminded himself. Perhaps, the dimwit would have been willing to change sides, but Stricklander had no luxury of time to check.
A group of people wearing capes and hoods left the groove, approaching the cart cautiously.
Stricklander raised his hands, noting at least three crossbows aiming at him. They didn't trust him - no wonder, he was a shapeshifter troll, one of humankind's jailers.
A tall lean figure left the group, picking up the pace. Stricklander smiled when she took off her hood, looking at him with some irritation.
"You're late," she stated angrily.
"Were you worried, Barbara?"
Stricklander jumped down, ignoring other rebels' yelps. Right now, the only person existing for him was Barbara Lake, their charming leader.
"I'm always worried, Walter," she said with a sigh, massaging her temples tiredly. "This scheme... We all are walking along the edge. It won't work forever."
She gestured for her subordinates to hop on the driver's seat and leave. Most of them obeyed, but one man remained, still refusing to lower his crossbow.
Stricklander knew him - that was Louis Scott, the second-in-command. That one hated all the changelings with passion.
"Louis, take the command. I'll catch up once I talk to Walter." Barbara gave her subordinate an encouraging smile.
Louis frowned.
"I still don't trust him," he muttered. "My daughter is growing up without a mother because of bastards like him."
Nevertheless, he obeyed, giving Stricklander some dirty looks before leaving.
"He'll never accept me," Stricklander stated blankly. Not that he could blame the rebel for that. Scott himself might have escaped the system, but a lot of his friends and relatives were less fortunate.
"Give him some time. He also knows that we managed to get Darci out only because you faked the list," Barbara said with a smile.
'And you? Have you forgiven me?'
Stricklander wished he could ask that simple question, but somehow, he always ended up chickening at the last second. Could it be otherwise? In the end, his sin against Barbara was way graver than just being a part of the twisted system.
Once upon a time, they had been a family, a husband, and a wife, raising her son together. Both Barbara and Jim had been just a part of the disguise.
Until they had become way more - the real family Stricklander had never had before.
No, not true. If he had actually considered them the real family, he would have told them the truth and tried to save them from the system before it had been too late.
The Cult was ruthless with the rules. Someone had noticed Stricklander's apparent 'weakness'. He had gone through endless interrogation, getting the only way to receive the pardon.
Put those two into the disposal list.
He was weak, perhaps, but never a brainless idiot. Pretending to comply? Sure thing. As long as he could have broken his family out afterward.
By now, his snatching of 'food deliveries' was perfected. Back then, it had been an impossible risk.
Stricklander still wondered how he had managed to succeed back then.
Or at least, succeed partially.
He had saved Barbara, yet Jim hadn't been in the same cart.
An unfortunate coincidence or a cruel joke of Fate - did it even matter?
Stricklander couldn't even say for sure if the bright boy he had considered his son was still alive.
Barbara just continued to believe in a miracle, stubbornly refusing to give up.
"Today's Jim's sixteenth birthday," she said longingly. "I bet he's grown so much..."
Stricklander felt he had to say something - anything! - but each possible phrase seemed so fake and empty. After all, deep inside, he had already buried Jim. Six years had passed already - without any single piece of information about the boy's fate.
Stricklander's main priority right now was repenting for not saving him.
Just keeping Barbara safe.
Assisting in liberating other doomed humans.
And conspiring to overthrow Gunmar, even if that one seemed basically impossible.
At least, Barbara was on peaceful terms with Stricklander already. Initially, she blamed him for everything, accusing him of leaving Jim out deliberately. Every time they had met back then would have always ended in yelling and throwing stuff.
She had calmed eventually, probably after seeing all of his efforts. The return to calling him 'Walter' was rather recent though.
"Actually, I wanted to tell you 'goodbye' today," Barbara whispered all of a sudden.
Stricklander felt his heart falling down. No, no, no. Did she get tired of giving him any chances?
"Not like that," she sighed, noticing his distress. "I just plan to travel somewhere..."
"Where?" he interrupted her.
"New Jersey."
No, she had to be joking!
"Barbara, I know that the Cult regulates education, but it is across the entire continent! Do you realize the distance? And that won't be a peaceful journey! All that vast space is under the Gumm-Gumm control!"
He had to stop this madness, this out-of-nowhere impulse. Did she think it was better there? Did she have a hope that at least some part of the world wasn't under Gunmar's rule?
Such paradise never existed. Stricklander was high-ranked enough to see the extent of the catastrophe.
"You think I've lost it." Barbara let a bitter laugh. "Sometimes I wonder if I'm even sane. I know all of that, Walter. I know how dangerous it is. But I'm willing to risk even if it's just pursuing a rumor."
"What kind of rumor?" Stricklander asked, nurturing a faint hope he could have debunked it without anyone going anywhere. The Cult spread some rumors to set a trap for naive rebels. Perhaps, it was one of those.
"A traveler appeared in the camp recently. We aren't the only rebels," Barbara started. "And between other camps, they talk about the Trollhunter. A young noble warrior, who is neither a human, nor a troll, but both."
Neither a human, nor a troll, but both?
Wasn't that quite a peculiar description? Was that unknown Trollhunter a changeling like Stricklander? No, humans would have called him a changeling then, there was no point in inventing some other term. Still...
"I get that, but why New Jersey?" he asked. "And why are you going?"
"New Jersey is his base of operations." Barbara looked at the sky. "And as for the second question, I'm just tired. Tired of sitting here, playing it safe. The Trollhunter fights against Gunmar - and I will fight by his side. I'm sick and tired of this red sky - I'll bring the blue one back. Otherwise, how will I be able to face Jim? As a good parent, I need to save his future."
Wow.
She seemed to be so determined, so heroic, so impossibly undefeated. Stricklander smiled - was it so odd that he had fallen head over heels for her. How could he stop her after such a declaration?
But...
"I'm going with you."
That was the only possible answer, the only available option.
"But your position..."
"It doesn't matter."
"The Cult will learn about your betrayal."
"It'll happen in any case sooner or later. I'd rather slam the door on my own terms."
Stricklander could see a small smile appearing on her lips. Perhaps, Barbara still hadn't fully forgiven him, but he was content even with the current state of things.
Even if there were only two of them against this hostile world under the red skies.