Chapter 42: Embracing Figures

Angor Rot grunted as he was kicked in the stomach by the Trollhunter, flying back into the front door and nearly causing the door to fly off the hinges. The assassin growled, gritting his teeth when he felt actual raw pain run up his spine. He barely got to dwell on the feeling before he dodged Daylight's next swipe, the Trollhunter slicing a thick line through the door and allowing more flickering blue and red light in.

This Trollhunter was obviously all business and very angry that the mageling had been snatched.

Rolling to his feet, his eyes quickly searching for his staff and blade, Angor Rot dodged another swipe from the Trollhunter before chuckling, "Ahh, the Trollhunter. I was looking forward to our meeting … Generally, it is more in my favor upon our introduction, but I cannot complain about the change of decorum for it shall make you more memorable than the last few Trollhunters I have felled."

At that comment and the assassin's dark grin, Kanjigar felt his rage bubble to the surface. He generally wasn't the type to fall prey to his temper, it was probably one of the reasons he was a long-lived Trollhunter, but the thought of the missing souls from the Void Between Worlds was enough to make his blood boil.

Kanjigar roared, making the glass panes on the first-floor shake before he threw a punch at his opponent, driving the leaner troll farther away from the mageling curled up against the wall.

Jim, curled up against the wall, tried to breathe through the pain as small traces of magic continued to ripple over his form. He tried to focus on the fight so he'd know when to move. Right now Kanjigar was trying to keep his weaponless opponent off-balance. And though that seemed to be a logical move, Angor Rot kept dodging back and rolling towards the destroyed couch in the living room … where all of his weapons and supplies lay half buried in debris.

Pushing back the pain, uncurling so he could get some more air in his lungs, the mageling barked out, "D-don't let him near the couch! H-his staff and blade are there!"

Said assassin had enough time to glare at Jim and his outburst before Kanigar and surprisingly now Draal tried to press him away from the rubble. In fact, the hunter was quickly forced to use hand-to-hand combat and any random household items he could grab as he was two-teamed. The brawl was even starting to make its way up the stairs, the human wincing as he listened to the destruction above his head. There wasn't going to be an upstairs left from the sound of it, especially with how the light fixtures were shaking on the ground floor.

Wincing at the sound of someone getting kicked or shoved into a wall upstairs, the human nearly screamed when a cool hand was placed on his shoulder.

Luckily … it was only Blinky, the historian quickly kneeling next to him and whispering, "Young Jim, thank Deya we found you! Are you alright? You seem injured."

Wincing as something crashed upstairs, Jim allowed the blue troll to push him up into a better sitting position. Unsurprisingly, the trainer's fingers kept getting zapped by the last traces of the magical backlash, yet the trainer still searched for any obvious injuries.

Beside himself, still listening to Blinky's soft murmurs that everything was okay now, Jim suddenly felt overcome. It was like he was five years old again, hurting, but this time … his father figure came back.

Feeling a sob gathering in his throat, Jim leaned forward and buried his head into Blinky's form, the cool stone flesh against his brow offering a grounding effect as a realization hit him. Vendel and the rest of the trolls were right. He was just some dumb kid running around thinking he had cheat codes while ultimately trying to get himself killed.

Why couldn't he do anything right?!

Hiccupping, hating how useless he felt in this new life, Jim sobbed into the trainer's shoulder, "I-I'm such an idiot. I thought I-I would be f-fine, that I could fight m-my own battles, like someone like A-angor Rot wouldn't be interested in me, b-but I was wrong. I-I'm always wrong! Vendel was r-right, I'm going to end up d-dead soon."

Surprised by the teen's admittance, Blinky threw a look at Aaarrrggghhh as the troll finished popping his joints so he could get into the doorway. The large green troll shrugged his shoulders, obviously unsure how to respond to that. Jim really did act like he was trying to get himself killed.

Unable to think of a response, Blinky moved to rub the teen on the back instead. To at least offer a small show of comfort before ushering him out of the house. This lasted for all of two seconds before the teen hissed in pain, the troll pulling back his hand. The historian was instantly horrified when he noticed that there was something wet on his digits … His fingers were covered in blood.

"Great Gronka Morka, you're bleeding," said the advisor as he had the teen lean forward so he could have a look. He took in a deep breath, his shock evident as he took in the hand-sized wound on the back of Jim's left shoulder.

Aaarrrgghh, who was now at the bottom of the steps as if guarding them to see if friend or foe was going to come down first, snorted out a huff of air before asking, "It bad? Smell blood."

"I cannot tell. Grab me a piece of cloth, old friend. Quickly," said the trainer as he tried to peel away the shredded fabric of Jim's shirt. He almost bulked when he was immediately offered a whole curtain.

For a moment, Blinky stared at the fabric before tilting his gaze to the window that faced the front of the house. It was completely uncovered now and allowed the police lights to flicker inside.

"Aaarrrgghh, though I am thankful for any assistance," said the librarian almost calmly before adding in an exasperation tone, "that curtain was the only thing to keeping us hidden from all of humanity!"

The large troll, seemingly surprised, looked over his shoulder at the police lights now flickering into the room. "Oh, sorry. I fix."

Then, before Blinky could freak out more, what remained of the couch was piled in front of the curtainless window. Aaarrrgghh even seemed to take the initiative and started closing all the curtains in the house.

…

Meanwhile, outside the Lake residence, the three cops that had gone to check on the possible sighting of James Lake Jr., stood there watching the very shutters of the Lake house shake. The crashing sounded like walls were about to be blown out and floors were being punched in. None of them missed the hulky shadow and glinting eyes of something on the first floor as a curtain was ripped from the window. All their guns quickly became unholstered at that point, especially when the huge figure returned and covered said window with a … couch?

The two younger men looked at Ben, being that he was the oldest officer there and had seen some shit. None of them wanted to get closer to the house as they heard a deafening roar come from inside.

"Do you … do you think it's a bear or something? They saw a bear the other day when searching in the woods, right?" asked one of the younger officers, Ivan Staab, as he adjusted his pistol nervously.

Michael Rexford, Ivan's partner, looked at him incredulously as he reached for the shotgun in the front of the cruiser. He then started adding shotgun shells before adding in a dry tone, "Then it has to be a pack of bears with all that racket. All I know is that I'm not going in there without backup … Well, more backup than the newbie and the retiree."

Gulager glared at the retiree comment while Staab stated, "Sleuth. It's called a Sleuth of bears. Plus, there was that moose sighting. Maybe a moose got in. There's a whole bunch of food on the front step."

Rexford gave a dry glare to his partner before adding sarcastically, "Yeah, meese. It's probably just ravenous meese. So, you wanna call a game warden and normal backup, smartass? Maybe we should get a whole sleuth of people out here for the show? Perhaps even that FBI guy who's been loafing about doing nothing. Either way, animals don't close curtains."

Staab wilted slightly, grumbling softly, "It's moose, jerk."

Gulgar might have considered the whole argument hilarious if every hair on his body wasn't standing on end as the two younger officers bickered next to him. That … had to have been a troll in the window. No doubt about it. The eyes glinted just like that Bullar fella from the bridge. He'd never forget that hungry look or the shine of those monstrous eyes. If anything, this one was even bigger.

Yes, he knew that all trolls weren't complete ass-pants and human-tasters, according to Tobias, but he wasn't willing to test the theory with the two younger officers' lives … especially since changeling's were also a troll-thing that were likely after him. This could all be a trap.

So, deciding to err on the side of caution, Gulager stated, "Quit bickering about what it is then and get some bodies on the CB. Yes, human eyes don't glint like that so … maybe it is a bear. Either way, call for backup. And see if we can get Mrs. Lake on the phone. Let's make sure she's not at home before we just stand out here like a sleuth of fools."

Rexford gave him a thousand-mile stare, obviously ill-amused, but grabbed the CB regardless.

…

Sighing as the flickering lights faded into the background, Blinky balled up the curtain and started dabbing the wound. He knew that they didn't have much time before the human enforcers started kicking down the door or something, but he had to make sure Jim was okay first. He quickly noted that the wound was caked in some kind of odd sticky fluid which seemed to help with the bleeding, and at least it didn't seem very deep. The problem though was that the injury wasn't just a normal injury. It was a carved sigil, commonly known as a cursed mark.

Blinky signed again, dabbed the wound another two times before he balled up the curtain and pressed it against the wound. He helped Jim sit up before stating softly, "It's a cursed mark, Young Jim. No doubt about it. I'm having trouble reading what it's supposed to do because of the blood and black rubbish in it, but we'll get you to Vendel post-haste. Perhaps there is something that he can do since it's still fresh."

Jim, sitting up, already figured as much. Yet, before he could open his mouth and ask about the magical backlash, there was a bark of pain upstairs followed by a crash of glass. Then, right at the window Aaarrrggghhh was about to close, a flash of blue flopped. It was Draal, and he had been pushed out of an upstairs window.

Shaking his head, glass going every which way, the blue and green troll shared a confused look through the ground-floor window before Draal realized he was out in the open.

Cursing, the spiky troll made a mad leap for some nearby bushes just as a spotlight landed where he had fallen. There was shouting on the human's end, talking about needing more backup, but Kanjigar's roar of rage drowned that all out. A few more pieces of furniture seemed to meet their end upstairs according the the crashing sound and then there was a hard thud like someone had gone down. A second later, the tip of Daylight was repeatedly piercing through the ceiling and before anyone could think to get out of the living room, the floor fell through … along with Angor Rot.

The lanky troll hit the floor hard, likely denting the wooden floor. Yet, despite probably having the air knocked out of him, he was rolling into his crouch and taking in his surroundings as quickly as possible. Kanjigar, poking his head through the hole in the floor, cursed upstairs about being too big before his feet pounded heavily toward the stairs.

Blinky and Jim both sat there, dust still settling in the room, before Angor Rot stood up slowly like a spry cat that hadn't minded its fall from a tree. He seemed mostly unscathed from the battle upstairs, if a bit dusty. There were still small little magical archs jumping across his stone-flesh though, making him twitch oddly like a marionette with kinked strings. The magical backlash was still giving him problems from the look of it.

"As entertaining as this evening has been," said troll darkly as he leaned down and pried his shadow staff and Suncreeper's blade from the rubble, the removal of the couch revealing their locations. "The Seer and I must be going. The hour is late and whelps must be put to bed."

Jim and Blinky both stiffened, the hunter's intent palpable. In fact, Angor Rot was already moving forward, either to push Blinky away or to just grab Jim right out of the historian's grasp before portaling away.

The many-armed troll immediately reacted, trying to protect his student as he harshly pushed the teenager away from the assassin's grasp. He even had enough time to step into the hunter's path and throw a flower vase at the taller troll. Not that it seemed to do much more than make the hunter angry.

Jim, sliding into the kitchen from the shove, his shoulder squeaking on the linoleum, barely had time to ball around himself as Aaarrrgghh charged over the top of him like a mad bull and into the living room to Blinky's defense.

The teen lay there a moment on his side, watching troll feet tromp around in the room over. Everything was going too fast. The living room was now being destroyed especially since Kanjigar had jumped over the banister and into the brawl. Angor Rot was barely being kept from his portals and from having his body slammed into a wall. The hunter was obviously trying to fall back into a tactical retreat with the way he was avoiding attacks.

Part of the mageling's mind still couldn't believe that all of this was happening just because he wanted to go home. Not-Trollhunter Jim was never supposed to be important and he certainly wasn't meant to be one of Angor Rot's marks. Were mages really so valuable?

The youth, now even more disoriented from being thrown into the kitchen, tried to ignore the ringing in his ears as he uncurled from his protective ball. He had to get up and out of here. He couldn't be underfoot if the battle led into the kitchen … and from the sound of things, it was coming his way.

He just ... couldn't get his legs to obey. The magical backlash had nearly knocked him out and the continued punishment afterward wasn't helping.

Luckily, Blinky was suddenly back at his side and helping him up. Troll-blood was now dripping down his nose from what looked like a harsh smack to the face. Two of his eyes were even squinted.

"Young Jim, to your feet. You are obviously his target and must go. The assassin is not the Pale Lady's champion for unwarranted reasons," said the historian as he finished dragging the teen to his feet and towards the back door.

Stumbling as he was all but dragged by the troll, Jim tried to glance over his shoulder when he heard Kanjigar bark in pain. The blue troll had been pinned to the floor via Angor Rot and the assassin was now trying to draw on his face while Aaarrrggghhh struggled to pull himself out of a wall.

He was about to put his sigil on Kanjigar!

Stalling his feet, his past-life memories bubbling to the surface as he recalled just how dangerous the hunter was when he wasn't playing with his opponents, the teen choked out, "B-blinky! Don't let him mark Kanjigar with his s-sigil! He'll steal Daylight!"

And, watching Aaarrrgghh finish pulling himself out of the wall, the teen added, "And beware his blade! He has c-creeper's sun on it. D-don't let him knick Aaa-rrrgghh."

At this, Blinky stalled, his uninjured eyes widening as he realized that this was more than a warning … it was a promise of things to come. There was no time or cowardice. No time for pause.

Cursing in trollish, Blinky grabbed a frying pan off the kitchen floor and ripped open the back door before he all but shoved Jim outside. He was then running back into the fray while crying, "To battle!"

Jim, stumbling outside in the chilled night air, stood there for a moment in a daze as he watched the door slam behind him. He had finally gotten outside, gotten away from his tormentor, but he almost wanted to go back in. He had to help the others. Angor Rot was not a trifle opponent.

Ears still ringing, Jim was about to stumble back inside, when he noticed movement to his left. It was Draal. Said troll was hiding behind a bush as a spotlight roamed around him, trapping him there in the shadows.

Staring at each other, the spiky troll waved something in hand-sign. Jim's hand sign was even weaker than his trollish, but the mageling was sure it was something about fleeing and regrouping in Trollmarket.

Nodding his head, the fuzz of magic still there, the teen was about to start back toward the woods and away from this chaos when he heard a voice ring through all the chaos. It was like the foghorn from a lighthouse while a storm raged all around him … a reminder of why he had rushed to the surface to begin with.

"W-what's going on?! We showed up as fast as we could. What do you mean there's something in the house? Is it Jim?! W-whats that crashing sound?!"

Jim would know that voice anywhere. He knew every tone it could make. It was the voice of his mother, Barbara Lake.

The teenager's feet stalled once more, soft grass crushed underfoot. The very air in his lungs caught if only so he could listen better. Even the evening wind seemed to be still.

"Stay back, ma'am. We just called you to make sure no one was supposed to be in the house. We think there's some kind of wild animal in there," came a gruff voice. A police officer from the sound of it.

"An animal? What kind of animal?" continued Barbara's voice, her tone in near hysteria.

Jim, standing there in the shadow of the house, police lights flashing flickering just on either side, slowly turned and gave a look to Draal. As if knowing what the young mage was thinking, Draal shook his head and signed something about not being able to protect him on the surface.

James Lake Jr. found … that he did not care.

At that, his hearing returned, like a wave coming into shore. The whole depth of the world suddenly came back to him. Everything immediately hurt. The lights were too bright and the sounds too loud, yet Jim found himself stumbling through the bushes opposite Draal regardless and towards the front of the street. He didn't care that there were now five cop cars in the street and a game warden with a tranq gun. He didn't care that every gun was immediately trained on him as he fell through the bushes. He didn't even notice that Barbara was stepping out of Strickler's car and not her own. All he saw was his mother, her hair unkempt and her clothes wrinkled. There were red rings around her eyes, and she looked like she had lost weight.

She had been mourning him, missing him, and hurting because of him and his stupidity.

And with those thoughts, Jim finished stumbling across the street. He threw himself into the shocked woman's arms before she could even react, bursting into tears as he cried out to his mother. He was sorry. He was so sorry. Everything was his fault.

Everyone in the street was at first flabbergasted, the chaos in the house all but forgotten as a lost teenager fell into his mother's arms, the two of them slowly sinking onto the pavement as Barbara realized her boy had come back. And soon she was sobbing as well, her arms tightening around her child while she buried his head into the crook of her neck, repeating over and over again that she got her baby back.

If anyone saw the glint of eyes in the house glance out into the street, the flash of purple in the house, or the fleeing of a blue blur from the bushes, it was ignored for more pressing matters. After multiple weeks, James Lake Jr. had finally been found.

Strickler, having driven Barbara to her house after getting a call about a break-in at her house, could only stand there in shock as mother in son were reunited. The two of them were now slumped onto the ground like a puddle of raw emotion, clinging to each other as if afraid they'd be torn apart. It might have been a touching scene to see such a reunion, but all it did was enrage Walter.

This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to have more time to plan and scheme. Now, all his plans were ruined! That fool of an assassin! How was he supposed to protect Young Atlas now? It might have been less than ideal for the young mage to be in Angor Rot's cold clutches, but it would have been safer there than being on Bular's radar.

Slamming his car door, telling himself that he'd think of something, Walter made his way around the car and two the two embracing figures.

He was flexible … he'd make this work. Even Bular wasn't stupid enough to eat a seer. Hopefully.

XXX

Paw07: Even when kicked through the floor … Angor Rot's still a badass. (⌐▨_▨)

Also, it only took 30 chapters but Jim finally got back to his mom … and also Strickler … and probably Nomura and Bular. My, that's going to be an awkward housewarming party. (=˃ᆺ˂=)