Nomura had always known that being involved with Stricklander would get her into trouble one day. But had she any other choice? She had nowhere to go, with the Janus Order being her only place to stay.
Yes, once upon a time, the female had tried to escape from everything. The opportunity had been just perfect - to start anew with a forged identity, to ditch all those ugly things connected to her impure nature.
To be someone better.
To have genuine bonds.
To fall in love.
Be true to yourself and to hell with the world.
She hadn't been able to refrain from quoting that phrase in her beloved's presence. And he… He had told her those words were surprisingly deep.
Draal would have understood. He still remained the first and only troll who had praised that quote. Nomura had been ready to tell him the entire truth, yet…
He had learned some other way, never letting her give the proper explanation. The female still remembered the hurt look of his face, the pain of the forced shift, and the clank of a gaggletack dropped to the ground.
Nothing had mattered after that. The female's only chance for freedom had shattered into smithereens. There was no escape, no hope, no other way to take.
So, Nomura had fully grasped her being a liar and fake existence. If she wasn't allowed to live, she could still survive, crawling in the dirt without any dignity, the very definition of impure.
The current mission was easy. To scary a kid? What a joke! She was an accomplished assassin and perhaps, one of the best fighters in the entire Janus Order. No wonder that Stricklander had always found her a valuable asset.
The female hated to admit it, but her superior had saved her hide more than once. Nomura had always been a problematic changeling, simply because of her strong character alone. Well, at least, she had never shown any ambitions, so there had been no chances to perish in multiple fights for the influence.
The pink changeling had met Stricklander for the first time some years after assuming the identity of Zelda Nomura. She had screwed with keeping her cover back then - and the man had vouched for her. Back then, Walter had been simply the second-in-command for the Janus Order, but the female could have said for sure that bastard would have gone far. He had left an impression of a way more skilled schemer than his superior.
Apparently, Nomura's hunch had turned out to be the one-hundred percent true.
Surprisingly, right now, Stricklander had mellowed a lot. Perhaps, living for that long among humans had already caught to him as well, much like many other changelings. But no, that schemer would never allow anyone to accuse him of that kind of unforgivable weakness.
Still, he obviously cared about the young Trollhunter a lot. Some decades ago, Walter would have broken the boy's neck and retrieved the amulet. Now? What was the point of resorting to some kind of scare game? Not to mention delegating it to a not-that-perfectly loyal subordinate?
Stricklander clearly didn't want his precious student viewing him as some kind of monster.
What a hypocrite.
That one was also a vain attempt to escape from the fate, to shake off shackles the Janus Order had put on his limbs. Nomura had genuinely believed that the man was too intelligent to try something that unhinged, but apparently, he had gone senile or something.
In any case, it wasn't as if she could reject the mission, so what was the point in wondering about her superior's motives? The female had to focus more on her methods. If the goal was destroying the peace of mind, she simply would need to start with preventing the boy from having a proper sleep.
Nomura had both the name and home address now, so she lept gracefully between the rooftops, picturing the plan inside her head. No one would be able to close their eyes after waking up with cold steel pressed to their neck. And, of course, she couldn't forget about whistling her favorite part from Peer Gynt.
The pink assassin could already see the house in the question. All lights were off as expected. Now she simply needed to figure which room belonged to the Trollhunter.
No, something was quite off. Nomura realized it in some seconds. The Lakes' residence was in close vicinity, yet no matter how many steps or leaps towards it she made, the distance refused to shrink.
She tried a different route. The result was the same.
"I see," the female drawled. Apparently, someone else had outsmarted Stricklander. His plan to teach James Lake the true meaning of despair had been a failure before even starting as the kid had already had a safe location. Most likely, his house wasn't the only one too…
Jim was hiding something. After the last night's talk, it had become clear as a day to Barbara. And the thing that haunted the boy wasn't Bular's chase. No, it had to be something bigger, something more complicated.
The woman sighed, finishing her breakfast. Her son had run away this morning before she had managed to ask him any question.
It couldn't continue that way anymore. If Jim refused to tell her about his problems, the mother would find out about those herself. Yes, they had to trust each other, but Barbara would never allow her child to suffer alone.
She had always respected his personal space, but now it would mean outright neglect.
The mother wondered who she could ask. Toby was the most obvious choice. Of course, he would try to cover for his best friend, but perhaps, she would be able to appeal to his common sense and…
Her gaze fell on a slip of paper lying at the countertop. For a second, Barbara wondered what that one was. There were some numbers there, and it looked like…
A phone number.
Now that she thought about it, hadn't Stricklander given her his number back during his visit?
And what if?
Yes, that one was an ultimately dubious source. Any single word from that man should have been taken with a grain of salt. But it was also an indisputable fact, that Stricklander had known some things about Jim - things that Barbara had no idea about.
Besides, she still hadn't learned how much information the winged bastard possessed. Did he know her true identity for sure, or was simply suspicious of her?
A proper check was long overdue. Not to mention that if the daughter of Gunmar was lucky enough, she could throw him off her tracks for good.
Her hand reached for the phone. She had to strike first before Stricklander got an idea of backstabbing her.
"Hello, Mr. Strickler? It's Barbara Lake. I want to talk about my son. Can we meet?"
Stricklander had always found himself an organized and meticulous person. Perhaps, that one was one of the reasons why he couldn't stand Bular - that stupid brute was too chaotic for his liking.
No wonder that the changeling was so frustrated at the moment - any attempt to make a working plan led to finding out something unexpected.
Young Atlas, apparently, was getting more than enough mental support to balance all the despair. And, according to Nomura's latest report, friendly encouragement wasn't the only thing the teen had received from his unknown allies.
A magic barrier surrounding the Lakes' residence was the last thing Strickler expected. He couldn't help feeling that his aide was laughing her ass off at his shocked expression after she had left.
Of course, he told Nomura to ambush the Trollhunter every time she got an opportunity, but the main goal behind his plan had been outside of the reach already.
A man's home is his castle.
Stricklander wanted to make even that fact dubious, but apparently, Jim's castle had surprisingly strong walls.
So, employing winning tactics, Young Atlas?
Choosing a defensive strategy was the most reasonable thing for the Trollhunter's team. There was no way for them to win in the direct confrontation. However, the main point was that Jim and his allies had no need to defeat any of Gunmar's children. As long as they simply kept the amulet from the enemy, it would be their victory. They also had no need to hurry, so stalling would be a better tactic for them.
On the other hand, the Gumm-Gumm side would never win unless they got the amulet. They could kill countless foes, but it wouldn't mean a thing.
Besides, right now, the evil trolls had discord in their ranks. Stricklander was well-aware that he was the cause for that with his gambit plan. But that one was his guarantee for survival, and he couldn't help playing his own game. Among all the parties involved, he was probably the only one with limited time.
The man's gaze drifted to the chessboard. Ironically, Young Atlas had called his trollhunting activities the chess club. The boy had no way to know, but it seemed that the entire current confrontation had more similarities with the board game than one could assume. Well, the only difference would be that there were three parties. The first one to make a mistake would face the horrible consequences.
Who would be that one?
Barverra? Her reckless brother could be a liability at times, but most likely, she knew how to use him efficiently enough. Besides, she had some links to human society.
No, that devious female risked the least - she was independent of many factors that might have caused her downfall. Stricklander knew that her main weakness was her son, but she had protected the whelp good enough so far.
Strickler himself? His position in the Janus Order gave him influence and connections, but he had too many rivals there. Nomura had been the only trustworthy asset. There were some more changelings stationed in Arcadia, but those ones' loyalty was quite dubious, to say the least.
At least, the winged changeling had something that Barverra lacked - he knew who exactly was the Trollhunter and how and where it would be the most efficient to ambush the boy.
And of course, there was Young Atlas, who knew nothing about scheming or intrigues. The current owner of the Daylight amulet without any battle experience. Just a child thrown right into the midst of the centuries-long war. Yet, he had allies, and those ones were seemingly capable enough.
The Trollhunter's team had a magic user, that was for sure.
A protector backed up by a wizard. It definitely invoked an unpleasant image. Once upon a time, the exact combination had been the ultimate force, the one that actually threatened other kinds.
No, even that thought in that direction would be ridiculous. Young Atlas was nowhere close to King Arthur, and whoever was his mysterious helper, there was no way for them to be of Merlin's caliber.
Stricklander wondered if he could use his connections to learn something about the unknown magic user. Why had they even decided to help? Why now? As far as he was aware, Kanjigar or any of his predecessors had gotten no support of that kind.
Was it because Jim was a human? Or perhaps, the magic user had known the teen before he had become the Trollhunter.
There were too many unknown factors. Strickler wished he had another opportunity to speak to Young Atlas. Of course, the boy wouldn't tell anything about the supernatural side of his life. Still, the History teacher had been good enough in reading people - he had no need for direct words, some reactions should have been more than enough.
His phone ringed, breaking up his thoughts. The number was unknown, so for a second, Stricklander considered ignoring it.
No, he couldn't ignore keeping with his cover. That could be one of the parents.
"Hello," he put as much politeness in his tone as possible.
"Hello, Mr. Strickler? It's Barbara Lake. I want to talk about my son. Can we meet?"
For a second, the changeling couldn't believe his own ears. It seemed that he still had some luck. Jim's mother was a perfect opportunity to fish out some valuable information without raising any suspicions…
Barbara had no doubts that her phone call to Stricklander would work. After all, he wouldn't have given her his number if he hadn't had any kind of plan. Still, that bastard definitely sounded elated after the woman had proposed to meet and discuss her son. He was obviously scheming something.
The impure might have learned about her true identity somehow. Or, more like, suspected Barbara of being the daughter of Gunmar. Without any doubt, he would use this opportunity to confirm his theory.
As if she would ever allow him!
If only Stricklander hadn't used Jim as his shield, the mother would have wiped him off the face of the earth a long time ago. But no, she had to be careful and use round-away methods.
Besides, right now, the woman needed to get some information about her son from the changeling. What kind of approach should she have used?
Apparently, playing a worried mom part would be the best. After all, she was genuinely worried. Not to mention that Stricklander would never imagine the fearsome Herald of Doom being open about her emotions.
The place of meeting would be Mr. Benoit's French Bistro. Barbara had chosen it because it was neutral territory and because she didn't want Jim accidentally barging in.
She appeared just in time, but Stricklander had already been waiting for her. Was he that impatient?
Though, it could be just common courtesy. It was still too early to jump to conclusions.
Remember, you've come here to get info, not to rip off his head. So, relax and give him the brightest smile.
Surprisingly, it wasn't that difficult - she simply had to convince herself that Jim's History teacher and the Head of the Janus Order were two separate people.
"I'm so sorry. Have you been waiting for me for long?" Barbara asked, taking a seat across the man. It had been a good start - she simply had to act the opposite he would expect from Barverra.
"Oh, no, don't worry, I've just arrived," Strickler smiled back. In truth, he had been waiting for a while, but it was his own fault for arriving too early. He even needed to shoo some overeager waiters, and now he could see that no one wanted to approach their table.
Well, except some dark-haired teen - the man had seen him around many times. Apparently, that one had been working at the bistro for a while.
Barbara ordered some coffee and a shortcake, and Strickler followed her example.
"You sounded worried during your earlier call," the man started after the waiter had gone away. "Has something happened to Jim?"
Of course, something had happened. A lot, actually. And Stricklander knew it better than anyone else. No one would be able to hide the anxiety after encountering a life-threatening situation, especially not a teen. Barbara was a good parent, there was no way that she would miss or outright ignore her son's mental state.
"Yes," she nodded with a sigh. That was the decisive moment - the woman couldn't shake off the feeling that Strickler was analyzing each of her gestures or expressions.
He was definitely suspecting her.
"I've always believed that I knew my son," Barbara continued quietly. "There have been no secrets between us…"
No secrets? As if!
She silenced her inner sense of guilt - what was the point of crying over the spilled milk? Once everything ended, the mother would tell her son everything and ask his forgiveness for everything she had hidden from him.
"Yet now Jim seems so distant," the woman went on. "It's like he's afraid of me learning something, so he keeps avoiding me."
"He's an honest boy," Strickler hummed. "I can say that he's horrible in lying, so, I guess, Jim simply has picked up a different approach…"
The changeling knew that for sure. So, hiding the trollhunting responsibilities had already brought some discord in Lakes' family. That was some great news. Would Jim be ready to distress his dear mom so much? No, that kid wasn't that kind of person.
"If anything, I can say that your son is obviously distracted and troubled lately," the teacher added with fake compassion. "He probably won't be able to tell a thing from the recent classes."
He couldn't help mentally celebrating when he noticed Barbara's face darkening. Young Atlas's mother was probably the only person who could convince her son to give up on the amulet without even knowing about the trollhunting.
"Do you know the reason for that behavior?" the woman asked. Right now, she had some trouble keeping her anger in check. Some kind of sixth sense told her that Stricklander had been at least partially responsible for her boy's inner turmoil.
Barbara had at least some theories about what could possibly torment Jim. The most obvious one was Bular and his chase. The second one was that impure bastard making her son doubt his own humanity or something.
The answer, though, wasn't even close to anything she had expected to hear.
"I believe it involves the chess club."
Strickler had no idea why he had decided to stick to Young Atlas's half-baked cover story. Probably, because for the boy, it would be strongly associated with his supernatural obligation. So, if Barbara would ever bring it up in a conversation with her son, it would have the proper effect.
"Chess club?" her disbelief was a genuine one.
"Is it so shocking?" Strickler raised his eyebrows. Had he miscalculated? It would be a disaster if the woman didn't trust his words. He would lose a valuable unwitting helper then.
"No," Barbara shook her head. "Actually, Jim brought it up recently. Something about other members of the club not being happy with him…"
Was her son actually that worried because of a new hobby? To the point that it had overshadowed the obviously supernatural encounter with a huge dark troll?
Or, perhaps, Jim used the chess club as an excuse when everyone asked?
"I see," the man muttered, doing his best in covering his inner glee. He had gotten some priceless information effortlessly. Apparently, the Trollmarket hadn't been that accepting of their new protector. That alone meant that the young Trollhunter's resources were surprisingly limited.
"Do you know anything about that?" Barbara hated asking that question. It was the same as openly admitting and accepting that Stricklander had a better idea of what exactly was going on with her son.
"Jim talked to me before entering that club," the teacher gave her a sad smile. "And, unfortunately, I believe I pushed him in the wrong direction."
Yes, he had to formulate it that way, to hint that the 'chess club' may have been harmful to the teen. And the mother took the bait - he could see it in her expression.
"What do you mean?" she inquired.
"There's no doubt that Jim has taken a liking to chess," Strickler continued, putting as much concern in his tone as possible. "I can imagine that he has found some new friends in that club, and perhaps, his trainer inspires him too much…"
That was no good - the changeling had nearly slipped. Yes, he was rather annoyed that someone had more influence on Young Atlas. That certain someone that had told the boy about Destiny and calling.
Barbara watched Stricklander's expression intently, so she hadn't missed his momentary frustration.
So, you're against the chess club because Jim trusts his trainer there more than you?
Personally, the mother would prefer her son to be close to that unknown person rather than have the scheming impure as his confidante.
"However, I feel that this kind of activity causes Jim too much stress," Strickler continued, not aware of the woman's musings. "It is obviously beyond his capabilities. I feel it'll be wiser for him to give it up and…"
He cut himself short as he had noticed an intense glare from Barbara. It was too uncanny, too unsettling. Yes, the changeling had gotten some idea of her personality before - the woman was obviously strong-willed and determined - but that kind of expression was beyond any of his expectations. If some troll had given him that kind of look, he would have run for his life.
But of course, this was simply a human.
"Mr. Strickler, I've never raised my son a quitter," the mother stated coldly. "I don't think it's good to run away because there are some difficulties. If Jim likes that chess club, I'll support him. Yes, it's not easy for him, but he's new. Everyone needs to start somewhere."
Barbara was irritated to the point of barely controlling herself. How had that bastard dared to doubt her son's abilities?
She wanted to add some insults but caught a glimpse of Stricklander's shock and remembered that she had to throw him off her tracks, not add to the suspicions.
"I mean, I'd rather have him dropping something else," the woman added, changing her tone to a friendlier one.
Was it already too late for damage control? The awkward pause had been too alarming.
'Great job! Even if he didn't suspect you before, he does now!' Barbara mentally smacked herself for her own carelessness.
Meanwhile, Strickler wondered if he could save the situation. Everything had been progressing nicely before the mother got angry out of nowhere.
Yes, that one was his grave mistake. The changeling didn't know much about her, so it was too easy to say something triggering unwittingly.
The waiter's timely appearance had broken an unpleasant standstill as it worked as a perfect distraction.
Walter wasn't going to miss that chance to change the topic.
"I'm pretty curious about your family," that one came out of nowhere, but the man was improvising. Besides, it wouldn't hurt to know who else might have some influence on Young Atlas.
"My… what?" Barbara couldn't believe her own ears. It was too random to take it seriously.
On the other hand, that was Stricklander. He wouldn't say anything without any plan.
"Family," the teacher repeated. "Jim has never mentioned any other relatives, so it makes me wonder…"
That was slightly unusual, now that he thought about it. It really felt as if the teen had only his mother. Not that it was an impossible situation, yet it was rare.
"Well, you should know about my ex," Barbara shrugged. "And his family was never too keen to communicate with Jim or me. There is no contact."
Personally, she was rather content with that. The woman's lifestyle suggested no tight bonds, so a bunch of caring relatives was the last thing she wished for.
"And what about your family?" Strickler raised his eyebrows. It felt somehow off that Jim's mother hadn't mentioned those first and focused on others.
"It's complicated," Barbara chuckled. Deep inside, she tensed to the extreme. So that was the impure's plan - to catch her on some inconsistencies of her own life story. Unfortunately for him, the woman had perfected her cover story through several decades.
"I was around four when I lost my mother," she continued without any pause. "My father raised me alone…"
It was not that difficult to tell that fabrication - technically, it wasn't even the lie. Barbara had simply twisted and adjusted her actual biography to fit human life.
"So you're from a single-parent household as well?" Strickler hummed. That one was unexpected. "It was probably not that easy for your father."
"I wouldn't say that," the woman disagreed. "Father was strict but fair. As long as you followed his rules, you were ok."
No, she shouldn't have mentioned that. It had been normal for Gunmar but probably sounded weird from the human point of view. Barbara could see some confusion in Stricklander's expression. Apparently, she was just fueling his suspicions.
"I see," the man muttered. That description simply didn't sound right. Barbara might have called her father 'strict', but somehow it felt like she tried to cover something. Probably, it had been more of the lines of authoritarian or even abusive. But of course, it wasn't something anyone would be eager to share with a stranger.
Jim's mother also didn't trust Walt, and the more they talked, the more it felt as if she put her guards up. Most likely, it was a horrible idea to ask more about her father.
"Were you an only child?" Strickler decided it would be the last question regarding Barbara's family. It would be a catastrophe if she decided that her son's teacher was too suspicious.
"No, I actually have some siblings."
Well, it was more like she used to have many. The survival rate for Gunmar's kin had always been impressively low.
"I simply don't keep in touch with them. We've grown distant with time," that was Barbara's cover story. Modern society would find multiple dead siblings fishy, to say the least. "Well, except my younger brother," she added after some consideration.
"Jim has never mentioned his uncle," Strickler raised his eyebrows. There was another piece of information added.
"That's because Jim doesn't know my brother," she admitted with a sigh. She shouldn't have lied about this detail as impure could always bring it up in the conversation with the teen. "You see, he's one of those relatives you feel embarrassed of. My brother is loud, rude, reckless, doesn't give a heck about other people's opinions, and prefers to solve all his problems with violence. Sometimes I wonder if he has any brains to start with…"
Barbara mentally apologized before Bular for giving him such a harsh description. She only kept him a secret because he was a troll, not because of his personality. If anything, the daughter of Gunmar wished to have a proper family reunion one day. After all, Bular was also loyal and cared about his kin a lot.
Her reverie was broken by a casual remark, which made her heart stop.
"Oh, I know that feeling - I know a person exactly like that…"
She had officially screwed up everything. Stricklander had thought about Bular immediately after hearing her description. Now he had obviously gotten the confirmation he needed to expose her as Barverra.
Walt was pretty surprised when the woman went silent after his seemingly harmless comment. He had attempted to establish a link, to show some sympathy because he surely knew what it meant to deal with an unruly brute. He hated even the idea of being related to someone like Bular. That deserved genuine compassion.
However, now it felt as if Barbara had misinterpreted his words or something as the entire mood had turned tense.
Strickler wondered if he could change the topic for the second time or everything had already gotten past the point of salvation. He couldn't allow failing here as well, especially if his plan involving Nomura wasn't working.
Walter's phone vibrated, indicating an incoming message. Why now?
It was impolite to check it out, moreover so, when the entire conversation got strained, but some kind of the sixth sense told him he had to read it.
And the hunch turned out to be exactly right.
The big guy causes trouble again.
Just great.
Couldn't Bular spend at least a day without getting on his nerves? Not to mention that it had to be something serious if the Janus Order decided to contact their leader instead of dealing with the problem themselves.
"I hate to part ways, Barbara," Strickler gave her a bright smile. "But I need to run now. There's some emergency at work."
Perhaps, it was better to have another conversation later when the woman calmed down.
It was a beautiful night. Clear sky with sparkling stars and a new moon - could one ask for better?
Two trolls were fighting in the clearing, breaking the peace of a sleeping forest.
Well, only someone entirely ignorant about the troll culture would mistake it for a conflict. It was just another rite of affection, a courting of a unique kind. It was the spar when both partners put their best yet never meant to harm each other.
Draal loved those sessions, loved the excitement reflected in the female's green eyes, loved her genuinely happy laughter and witty remarks. She was his special one, his soulmate, the one who made him feel the whole.
Kanjigar had once told his son that he had experienced those feelings with Ballustra. And now it simply was Draal's turn.
They both fell down in the grass, rolling on their backs and watching the stars. The warrior felt as if the entire world had belonged to him. He wished he could found some wise words to reflect his state, but that one had never been his forte.
"Out there, where the sky shines, humans say: 'To thyself be true.' In here, trolls say: 'Be true to yourself and to hell with the world'," the female drawled wistfully, breaking the silence.
It got Draal curious.
"What was that?" he inquired, changing his position so that he could see her face.
"Nevermind," she waved it up dismissively after sitting up. "Just a foolish quote…"
"From Venerable Bedehilde?"
"Bedehilde isn't the only author," the female seemed upset for whatever reason.
"Sorry, I'm not that knowledgable," the warrior shrugged. "I simply wanted to tell you that those were amazing words…"
"Amazing?" she turned to him, her green eyes full of genuine shock.
"Really wise," Draal grinned.
"Of course they are, you big oaf!" the female snorted. "Ready for round two? I'll beat all the bushigal out of you this time!"
She jumped on her feet, and the warrior followed suit.
The night had belonged to two of them alone…
Draal woke up in a foul mood. Apparently, the past memories came back to haunt his dreams once again. Sure thing, trolls never needed that much sleep, but he wasn't happy with his rest time being plagued by that female.
Yes, he was a fool for falling in love with a fake, an intricate illusion crafted to get closer to his father. Nothing she had told about herself was true. Not her backstory, not even the name.
She was Nomura, the deadliest fighter the Janus Order had ever had. And apparently, a skilled liar if she had managed to fool everyone at the Trollmarket.
Or perhaps, Draal was simply looking for excuses. Locals had only accepted the female after the Trollhunter had vouched for her. And Kanjigar only did that because he trusted his son's judgment.
Others were better at discerning deception. Otherwise, why would Krax suggest checking her with a gaggletack?
Draal remembered being annoyed by that. He had been so eager to prove to that bastard that he had been wrong. It would have been so easy - just to touch his beloved with that stupid gaggletack and then beat all the bushigal out of that mudslinger.
Krax had been right.
The warrior still wondered why he had never chased that lying impure, why he had never attempted to restore his honor.
He had let her go.
Did he still love that fake? His beloved had been only a fabrication, a role that the shameless changeling had played splendidly.
Be true to yourself and to hell with the world.
It had been such an irony. The devious female had kept whispering to him that it had been alright just to be himself, while she had never been herself. Draal had come to believe that she had loved Draal. Not Kanjigar's son.
In the end, his soulmate had never existed, being a fooling delusion.
The warrior didn't even know what had hurt more after he had learned the truth - unkind jeers from some locals or his father's compassionate 'everyone makes mistakes'.
Time had passed, and Draal genuinely believed that his soul wounds had fully healed. But no, Kanjigar's death and all the surrounding commotion regarding his unworthy successor had somehow ended reopening those.
The warrior had gritted his teeth. The past didn't matter right now - he had to focus on the present and future. He was strong enough to defeat the ghosts haunting his sleep. So, he showed the memories aside and turned his attention to the current situation.
If anything, that one made Draal pissed, infuriated even. Somehow, the mantle of the Trollhunter, the ultimate honor had escaped him once again. The worst was that it had landed in possession of a fleshbag, skinny and frail. It was like an ultimate mockery from some higher force.
That human knew nothing, probably wasn't even capable of comprehending what exactly his current position meant. There had been some dubious personalities among Merlin's champions before, but this one was clearly the least suitable.
Besides… Yes, Draal had concerns about the safety of the Heartstone Trollmarket and the amulet not falling into the enemies' hands, but, to be honest, the primary source of his frustration was selfish to its core. The son of Kanjigar simply refused to accept the fact that the ancient artifact kept choosing anyone else all the time.
They said the champion had to be someone worth the position. Draal believed he could be the one. Wasn't he the best in his generation? Wasn't he one of the most combat-capable trolls around? Then why?
First, it had happened with Callista - well, later, the son of Kanjigar had admitted that he had been wrong in his judgment. Deya the Deliverer had been the most fitting, apparently. There had been others, truly honorable Trollhunters, especially his father, but there had been more than enough of those not worth the mantle. Did it mean that Draal was inferior to those as well?
And now there was a fleshbag - young one, to add to offense!
Is it actually that important for you to be the Trollhunter? Will it make you feel yourself?
The treacherous impure's words resounded through Draal's mind once again.
No, she was just a liar. And if Nomura had told him to give up on his goal, it could only mean that he had to multiply his efforts.
The son of Kanjigar was simply the best, the most dangerous rival for the Gumm-Gumm side. That was the reason for impure's words - she had just schemed to eradicate the future menace.
Draal had hoped that Vendel would at least voice some kind of protest because of the fleshbag champion. But no, the elder had allowed that human outsider to go through the Soothscryer test as if he had been one of them, an actual troll and a warrior.
And the result of that challenge… Well, it had been certainly different from the one they would call a success - a summon to meet with the predecessors. But neither had it been a failure, ending in the loss of a limb, as it had happened to some of the impostors (the position of the Trollhunter had always been desirable enough to push some to try forgeries).
That was an odd outcome, to say the least. Vendel had decided to leave it as it was and wait. Yes, the old goat didn't expect anything special, yet for whatever reason, he also refused to act. Did he hope for another Deya situation?
For Draal, on the other hand, there could be only one conclusion - the fleshbag wasn't worth his position. Moreover, he was an easy target for the enemies, who would have no trouble ripping the amulet from that twig (and using his bones as toothpicks afterward).
Why couldn't anyone see how much they were risking?
The troll had to show everyone that leaving the human Trollhunter would be a grave mistake. If Merlin had wanted to have a fleshbag champion to start with, then why had he even bothered to forge an alliance with trolls opposing Gunmar? Hadn't his king more than enough capable knights back then? No, there obviously had been a mistake or something along those lines. And it was Draal's responsibility to solve that one as the only one sane enough to see wrongness there.
The amulet or not, no fleshbag could be a good protector for the trollkind. If anything, that runt would last for some days at most - though Draal would acknowledge his luck as he hadn't beaten the Unkar's record at least.
Still…
Blinkous Galadrigal, without any doubt, had gone crazy. Otherwise, why would he even think that some training could do a true miracle and make a seasoned warrior out of that walking Bular's snack?
Well, maybe, just maybe, that fleshbag had possessed minimal courage as he dared to appear at the Trollmarket the next day. By that time, every single local had already known about their predicament - news had always traveled fast down there. The son of Kanjigar could see that he wasn't the only one not upset because of that. No, not just that, Blinky and Aaarrrgghh actually had remained in the minority with their support.
At least, the Trollmarket stayed in sound mind, though Vendel could have demonstrated more decisiveness. But no, he had made a strict order not to touch the new Trollhunter.
"Let the Destiny decide - if he falls, so be it. We'll just wait for the next one".
It was like the old geezer had distanced himself from everything. Was it even the sane action? Maybe the elder had really gone senile, as some gossipers implied.
Draal watched the fleshbag struggling in the Heroes Forge and couldn't help feeling more and more irritated. That human was more helpless than a tiny whelp and even started to ask for an easier level. Was that a game for him or something? There couldn't be any simple levels in trollhunting.
Who would dare to demand that the current Trollhunter was worth his position? Definitely, not Draal.
It may have been just an impulse as the frustration had gotten better of him, but the troll warrior had soon found himself revealing his presence to the fleshbag and his team, proposing a spar.
That runt had no idea how much of honor the training with the son of Kanjigar should have been for him. Many local younglings would kill for that. The puny human, however, just kept showing how much of a coward and weakling he was. He would obviously prefer to run away from a noble spar.
Couldn't he stop being such a pathetic disgrace? Draal felt the rage boiling inside him. Was someone like that more worth than him? The only thought of that was ridiculous.
At least, Vendel appeared timely to show his own approval for a mock battle, so the deal was sealed.
Not that the spar was that long or impressive. The one-sided beating would describe it the best. The son of Kanjigar hadn't even finished warming up - he could show way more with a better opponent. The so-called Trollhunter was entirely at his mercy as he held him over the abyss, and as expected, the runt was clinging desperately for his life.
It could be so easy.
Just to tighten the grip and break all of that walking twig's bones.
Or simply drop him down into the abyss surrounding the Heroes Forge.
No one would ever criticize or judge Draal for doing that - troll fights regularly ended in the death of one of the rivals. Wasn't it also the second rule of trollhunting?
Yet…
Kanjigar would have never approved. The troll warrior remembered his own first decades and his father's lessons on life.
'There's no honor in destroying anyone weaker than you. If you do that, you won't be different from a Gumm-Gumm'.
That was Kanjigar's noble way of living. How could his only son sully that precious memory?
He was annoyed at the amulet's decision, yet he wasn't a villain.
So he let the fleshbag go, even advising him to lay low if he wanted to survive.
Draal would never accept that laughingstock. But now, he could see some reason in Vendel's onlooker approach. The warrior simply had to wait - and perhaps, the next choice would be way better.