Some blue smoke was swirling lazily inside a small vial as if trying to taunt her. It was ridiculously ironic - something that used to be such a crazy idea at some point turned into a true habit, a part of the routine. She was Barbara now, a human woman, a respected doctor, and a mother. Sometimes it was quite easy to forget about days of strife and bloodshed. Sometimes it was not. Especially not during the nights when the potion effects were that close to wearing off.
Troll instincts always came back first and those raised awareness of surroundings tenfold. Well, at least Arcadia was a calm and peaceful place just perfectly suited for hiding. Taking into account her son, that was a must. Barbara was quite grateful that one day James Lake brought her here. She liked it way more than any other area she had lived in before. Of course, eventually, she would need to leave - after all, regular people had never been that accepting of seemingly ageless women. At least it had become much better during the modern era without any angry mobs, pitchforks, or torches. Not that any of those were a problem for Barverra the Atrocious, yet lately she would still prefer to keep a low profile without any huge massacres. Bular would definitely accuse current her of cowardice and weakness. And probably that would be not that far from the truth as she certainly had softened a lot, for better or worse.
Barverra thought about her brother quite often. Their relationship was never that simple as they barely were able to come to any common opinion because of dissimilar personalities, but both the son and daughter of Gunmar always knew that they could trust each other entirely, even when everyone else turned away from them. Was Bular even alive now? He most likely went with his brainless revenge plan and encountered Deya. That could have ended both ways depending on circumstances - troll fights tended to be pretty unpredictable to start with, not to mention that the mysterious Deya was a wild card to start with. Barbara simply didn't know. Cutting all ties with troll society had a clear downside as it left her with no information of the current state of things for her kind. She was only able to catch some glimpses and pieces of information at best, thanks to her links to some magic users, but that had never been enough.
The redhead looked at the vial again. Its contents were her guarantee of peace, her insurance that there wouldn't be any hostile trolls following her tracks. Usually, the woman never risked waiting until she turned back into her true form and just used the potion to prolong the effects. Not that it was always like that - there used to be times, when the daughter of Gunmar was more than happy to let go of confines of the pathetic fleshbag body as soon as the night fell. The magic neutralizing potion was a godsend back then as she would most likely have gone insane otherwise. But eventually, those regular nightly outings grew rarer and more sparse.
Living in a human society meant being surrounded by people and high risk of exposure. When Barverra was only beginning that lifestyle, she had screwed more than once and needed to cover her while tracks getting rid of unfortunate fleshbags, who approached her secrets too close, or even burning down entire settlements. With the experience she learned to be more discreet, so something like that could be avoided. Sometimes the woman started to think that her new lifestyle actually made her pathetic. Seriously, what kind of Gumm-Gumm would even bother with avoiding bloodshed?
It somehow had come to the point where she had years of life without going back to the true form even for a brief second. Moreover, that fact didn't cause that many regrets. There was an exception though, the one from around two years ago, Barbara preferred not to remember that one time when she actually briefly returned to being that merciless Herald of Doom capable to strike terror into the hearts with the presence alone. Not that she felt any remorse, quite the contrary, she would do the same as many times as needed, but the woman still hoped that Jim would never learn about that one.
Jim. Her little boy, the one who managed to bring new sense into her empty roaming. Her child who had not even the slightest idea about his mother's gory past or wicked true nature. Someone whose conception was totally out of the blue, but whose existence quickly became her most valuable treasure.
Barbara put down the vial and quietly went upstairs to check on her son. Not that there was any need for worry or, heaven forsake, any looming danger - the daughter of Gunmar made sure that there were any threats near her kid. Much as expected, Jim was fast asleep, hugging his pillow adorably. The mother's heart simply melted at that endearing image and she planted a small kiss on her son's forehead, gently running her hand through his hair. It was a small habit of hers, something that everyone else would perceive as a simple sign of familial affection, but in truth, it was some hidden meaning behind it as well - it was also a way to check if her little boy had started to grow any horns.
Barverra was not that ignorant or dense to assume that if Jim had not shown any trollish traits for all seven years of his life, it would stay the same forever. How could it possibly be otherwise with his quite complicated heritage? Her boy was still a half-troll, an intricate existence unlike everyone else, and sooner or later that troll half would make itself evident. Barbara didn't know herself what she would do when it happened as nothing could be the same after that. They both would have to kiss farewell to their blessed peaceful life, that was for sure. Not to mention explaining to the child why he suddenly turned into a being way different from a human would be too heartbreaking.
It was obviously her grave mistake. Shouldn't the mother have told Jim everything to start with? Yet she had never had enough courage to bring up the truth. The one about the world below. The one about trolls. The one about centuries-old conflict. The one about Gunmar and his family. The one about herself.
No, her boy was simply too young for all of that, it would just freak him out pointlessly and end his life full of blissful ignorance. Would she be that cruel to actually ruin her son's happy days and replace those with the existence of constant run, caution, and looking behind expecting an assault from everyone? Barverra was used to that, but it would be too much for her Jim. If she could shelter him from all of that stuff at least temporarily, she would rather do her best to prolong that precious peace for as long as it was possible.
In fact, it was quite an irony - the daughter of Gunmar was infamous as someone cruel, malicious, ruthless, and even sadistic. How many times had she taken her enemies' lives after playing a lot with their minds and making them taste absolute despair? It used to be much like a routine to see distorted expressions full of powerless hatred and dread, to hear curses, wails, and pathetic howls. The common opinion about Barverra was that she was just a heartless monster, not capable of any affection. Who could even imagine the possibility of her current mental state, when the only thought about the possibility of Jim's tears made the woman's heart sank. Not to mention that the mother would definitely murder in cold blood anybody who would dare to think about harming her little boy.
This was the feeling Barbara had never known before Jim's birth, something marvelous and complex. Of course, she was devoted to her father and would do everything to bring his goals to fruition. Without any doubt, the female cared for Bular despite his reckless tendencies and would come to his aid in time of need. But when it came to her little son, everything else just paled in comparison. When Jim smiled, her heart soared high full of true tranquility, when he frowned or cried, she was ready to rip the cause of his worries to the tiniest shreds.
Sometimes Barverra caught herself on the thought that her boy was much like the sun for her. Yet the sun, despite being so splendid and enticing, was still one of the things that no troll could ever face or enjoy. In the end, it was simply the death incarnate, which brought demise only, no matter how unfair it felt. Would Jim be the end for his mother as well? She couldn't say and hopefully would never get an answer to that question.
Barbara brushed Jim's hair affectionately once again. Her dear child mumbled something indistinct in his sleep and smiled happily.
"Sleep well, sweetie," the mother whispered. "I'll protect you from any harm."
She had made up her mind - that night she was going to explore the neighborhood as her true self, checking out for any possible threats.
If the previous nomad-style life had taught Barverra anything, that would be hiding and covering tracks, so she never kept anything related to her past and true nature at home - the risks of being exposed by fleshbags or to attract some hostile trolls were always too high. Both of those were some of the lessons she learned from her own careless mistakes. Not to mention that now she also needed to keep in mind Jim who was just as curious as any kid of his age, so the basement was out of question. Fortunately, here, in Arcadia, she had found her own secret shelter - a small cave in the forest that conveniently had a connection to sewers and was hidden good enough.
Most likely, it had belonged to some other troll before, a hermit or maybe even an outcast (not that anything like that was such a rarity for her kind), as it was too handy for something made by nature. The former owner could be a fleshbag as well, but the daughter of Gunmar seriously doubted that - it was not like humans favored damp underground spaces. Barverra stumbled across the cave by pure chance and only because she was actively looking for shelter. Whoever created it, they surely cared about concealing their humble abode good enough. Of course, the woman didn't take over at once - no, she had been checking for a while until it became obvious that the previous owner had either perished or moved somewhere else.
For whatever reason, the cave had two entrances - one hidden, leading to the forest, and the other being connected to the city sewers. It was much like the unknown creator was thinking about the possibility when they would need a quick escape. That was a smart move for sure and gave even more points to the shelter's convenience.
With some adjustments, the cave became an even better secret lair - some simple magic wards concealed it entirely, keeping away all uninvited guests. Those tricks witches taught Barverra during her stay in their village seemed actually quite practical, despite her initial skepticism.
It was the place she used for brewing the potion that allowed her to keep living this peaceful kind of life. No wonder that from the first glance it was more reminiscent of a witch's workshop rather than a troll's den as the cave was full of various ingredients of mysterious origin. But a more keen eye would certainly notice something not belonging to a seemingly peaceful shelter - a whetstone on one of the shelves, a leather armor barely hidden under some piece of cloth, and especially, huge twin blades, sharp and always ready for battle.
Barbara got inside the cave and cast off her clothes just in time as the potion's magic stopped working leaving her back in her true body.
The female troll stretched a bit - going back always made her feel a bit sore. Was it because of some size difference between forms? She had never actually thought about possible reasons and in any case, when it came to magic, logic barely applied.
Barverra took out her old battle armor. Wearing that one felt nearly foreign right now. When was the last time? A century ago? Maybe even longer than that. The Herald of Doom was certainly getting too rusty.
'I need to get out like this more often,' she thought with a frown. 'How am I going to protect Jim in this pathetic state?'
The daughter of Gunmar reached out for her swords, noting their peerless state - she sharpened those regularly after all, - slashed an air several times, then switched to practicing stances. Those also seemed to be seriously off - the form was still there, yet strength and speed had certainly fallen behind her prime.
That was starting to get seriously irritating.
'That's what you get for leading a peaceful life,' Barverra thought, barely containing annoyance, and raised the right blade above her head, reading troll runes engraved on it.
Glory lies in battles.
Apparently, the same could be said about skill and strength.
She switched the stance and now the left sword was before her, covered in ugly scratch marks, not unlike battle scars. It used to have some runes as well, but that engraving annoyed young Barverra so much that she did everything possible to destroy it entirely, leaving no hope for restoration, even if it ruined the look of her blade.
What were those words again? So many decades had passed since that time when she was still just a whelp trying to impress her intimidating father. There was something about the source of true strength or something like that, something that went against all of Gumm-Gumm beliefs, something that was a true blasphemy not fitting the dark ruler's daughter.
Well, that wasn't that baffling taking into account that those blades were a personal weapon forged for someone else, not for Barverra - she inherited them from her mother, Aeterra the Adamant, a fierce and proud female war chief who clashed with Gunmar several times. Those encounters were apparently her downfall - the Skullcrusher was certainly impressed enough, so he wished to possess someone like that.
The Skullcrusher used to have as many females as he wanted - some came to him willingly either of fear or in foolish hope to become the queen (as if the dark lord would ever stand anyone equal to him!), some actually shared his views about troll supremacy and other fell victim to inner politics as they were sacrifices their tribes were willing to pay for their own safety. Barverra's mother was neither of those - she had come willingly, to make a deal - Aeterra would have stood by Gunmar's side and the Gumm-Gumm king would leave her village alone. But even then she refused to submit fully.
Nevertheless, the dark lord was only interested in the fierce female's battle prowess. If he couldn't have her, he would have been more than content with a strong progeny. Barverra was exactly the offspring he wished. In a way, her birth was the doom for her mother as Gunmar never kept anything he found useless for longer than needed, so soon enough after their daughter had proved her own worth, he shattered the stubborn female. Barverra still remembered that day - she felt no sorrow or anger back then, just confusion. Why hadn't her mother joined obviously stronger side? Why had she kept denying the Gumm-Gumm overlord until the very end?
Sometimes the daughter of Gunmar wondered if she could have a better understanding if she had been closer to Aeterra. There had never been any opportunity - she had been spending way more time with her father, seeing her mother only on some rare occasions. And the stubborn war chief always looked sad and regretful during those brief meetings. Most likely, it was the reason why Barverra herself tried to cut those short - it was simply too difficult to stand her mother's gaze. Apparently, they both were simply too different.
Shaking off those obviously unpleasant childhood memories, Barverra went outside the cave. The night forest met her with countless scents and sounds. It took some moments to discern some - an owl hunting some critters, a fox rummaging through trash left by campers, a gust of wind blowing through trees... All of those were pretty trivial and held no danger. Even a distant scent of river trolls was not that concerning - the female troll was well aware of their community since her arrival to Arcadia and just avoided them.
So far, everything looked regular. Barverra made a leap landing on a thick tree branch and thinking which direction to go. Arcadia streets were out of question - who knew how many curious eyes were there? She couldn't risk exposing the underground world simply because it would cause too much chaos. On other hand, goblins were basically swarming streets at nights which greatly annoyed the woman, but the green creatures were not too intelligent to start with and seemingly never cared about secrecy. How no one had ever noticed them was a mystery of the whole another level.
Roaming in the forest for too long might have resulted in an encounter with some unfortunate river troll. Of course, she could finish an enemy of that caliber fast, but the clearly unnatural death of one of theirs would certainly cause commotion in the tribe. And unrest would most likely result in the appearance of a trollhunter. Whoever held that mantle right now, Barverra didn't want them to prowl about that close to her house.
So moving in direction of the city canal would make the most sense and it made - till she unexpectedly ran into some troll. Barverra blamed wind - it was blowing from her side taking away all the scents. At least it left the unexpected adversary in the same position.
In any fight, the one who didn't react in time after being caught off-guard would certainly end slain. It only took three seconds to react.
One.
Twin blades flew out from their sheathes aiming at the enemy's throat.
Two.
A shining sword blocked hit with precious timing.
Three.
Both trolls jumped back watching each other in anticipation of the next attack.
Barverra had finally managed to get a better look at the foe and gritted teeth. Out of every possible variant, she somehow managed to meet the worst one.
Silver and blue.
That hateful combination of colors in armor meant only one thing - she was facing the Gunmar's nemesis, another one in the line of trollhunters. It was not Deya though - had Bular actually succeeded with his reckless plan? Who would guess...
Yet the one Barverra had confronted was as troublesome if not more than Deya. She knew that one - Kanjigar, a seasoned warrior, probably one of the best in the enemy's ranks. He was a rather difficult foe even during Killahead battle times, causing a lot of troubles for the Gumm-Gumm hordes, and now? It was very naive to hope that the new Trollhunter neglected training - quite the opposite, his current position would require being in the top form. Barverra, on other hand, had spent decades without proper fighting. The result of the battle would be quite predictable. The retreat was the only sound option, no matter how dishonorable it sounded, yet the daughter of Gunmar knew that Kanjigar would never give her the luxury of escape.
Especially taking into account that the Trollhunter had recognized her as well - she could clearly see it in his amber eyes. The Herald of Doom had never been the one to be ignored and now it bit her back.
"Barverra," he scowled and broke the silence. "So you've also escaped imprisonment in the Darklands".
"Kanjigar," she smirked with fake bravado. "What a meeting! Though, it's quite a pity that Deya wasn't so lucky to live long enough. I'd prefer taking her head myself!"
That was an obvious attempt to provoke the Trollhunter. Angry trolls tended to be too straightforward and predictable, which could possibly allow some opening. Unfortunately, Kanjigar was too experienced to make such a mistake. His next attack turned out to be collected and well-thought instead and Barverra barely managed to fend off in time.
There was no other choice. She had to give out everything she had and send her foe to his grave, consequences and sacrifices be damned. As a mother, the female troll simply couldn't allow such a dangerous enemy to exist in the same world as her son. One day Kanjigar could possibly learn about Jim and her boy would perish only because of his unfortunate parentage. It was her responsibility to deal with the threat as soon as possible.
"Isn't tonight the perfect time to die, Trollhunter?" Barverra hissed gritting her teeth and launched a reckless attack. "Give my regards to Deya!"
So what if she had got rusty?
'I cannot lose here. Have no right to'.
The female troll could always try to hit and slash as fast as it was possible, neglecting proper form or result and totally giving up on defense. Yes, it was not her style, not to mention that something like that was only appropriate for cornered and desperate ones and… Who she tried to fool? She was both cornered and desperate. Did it even matter? As long as Kanjigar had no opportunity to regroup or counter, it would be good enough. And eventually, there should have been an opening - no one was able to keep up with such tempo forever.
The fight felt like some bizarre macabre dance where each misstep could end in a gruesome wound or even death. A truly magnificent piece of war art, so much fitting for two worthy rivals. The one with stronger motivation would win, while another one was doomed to fall. That was the true warrior's way.
However, Barverra soon realized one seriously grave miscalculation - when it came to endurance, Kanjigar certainly had an upper hand. So with her crazy attack speed, she would run out of breath way before her foe. The female troll was already slowing down a bit, while the Trollhunter showed no signs of exhaustion.
'Just make a mistake, dammit!' her thoughts were distressed and frantic as she tried to find a way to tip the scales in her favor. If the pattern continued, the daughter of Gunmar would be doomed.
"You seem desperate, vile woman..." Kanjigar commented, sounding nearly confused.
Had he noticed?
"As if!" one of Barverra's blades clanged against the Daylight sword making its wielder step back. "You need to check your eyes, Trollhunter, because today you'll be the one to fall! That pathetic son of yours - what was his name again? - will certainly cry so much! Should I end his suffering too?"
It was another taunt, not that different from her regular ones, and another attempt to anger the foe. And this time there was a proper reaction - the next strike of Kanjigar's sword was way stronger than any previous ones. Barverra grunted and jumped back not realizing her own mistake at first - she had lost the precious momentum and let the Trollhunter go full offense. Now it was too late - the blue troll seemingly got more drive to win out of nowhere. If anything, it looked like he got more motivation to deal the final blow to his enemy.
Barverra tried another reckless attack and failed this time as Kanjigar left not openings and countered at once. The Daylight blade finally reached its goal, cutting through the leather armguard and leaving a nasty gash. Luckily, it was not that deep to make the arm entirely useless, but it still hurt a lot - condensed sunlight wasn't a joke, after all. The female troll jumped back hissing and never taking her eyes off her enemy. Any next step could easily lead to a certain demise.
Her mind was searching frantically for any kind of solution, yet kept failing miserably. Every attack pattern the woman tried to imagine would end in either instant defeat or at least put her in an even worse position. For now, she could only defend herself and dodge - Kanjigar left her no chance to even counter. Barverra cursed her own stupidity - why had she even brought up the Trollhunter's son? Any sane parent would react the same, hell, she would bite off the head of anybody who dared to threaten Jim.
Jim.
The mother imagined his expressive eyes, his happy smile, his mirthful laugh.
Yes, she was not fighting only for herself here. It was also the fight for Jim's sake, for his safety and future.
As the thought had crossed her mind, Barverra actually saw the attack pattern that would take away her enemy's life for sure. She failed to find it before because it was too different from her regular style - too reckless, too unhinged, and actually leading to her own demise willingly. Yes, it was the one involving self-sacrifice.
'Tonight we'll go down together, Trollhunter,' the woman smirked grimly, ready as she would ever be to sacrifice everything for the victory.
It would be so easy - just to leap as high as possible, to swing as wide as her arm length allowed, to let the Daylight blade impale her chest because that one would not stop her slashes from taking Kanjigar's head. He would never expect such a suicidal attack - not from the malicious daughter of Gunmar, so rather than finding a proper counter, he would certainly fall for her trap.
So the female troll jumped, starting her last attack.
When the sun rose above Arcadia, it would only greet two stony statues in the forest. No one would ever learn about this battle and its result. Well, maybe some trolls would look for their protector and find his remains eventually if a stray gruesome hadn't done that before.
But no one would ever learn, what had happened to Barbara Lake. She would simply disappear from the face of the world, leaving everyone who knew her wondering about her fate. But eventually, all the talks and rumors would die out with people moving on to some new, more juicy topic.
And Jim… What about her little boy? Who would take care of him? As far as everyone concerned knew, Barbara Lake had no relatives, James Sr. was missing and his family had cut all the ties a long time ago. Would that leave a foster care system as an only option?
No, she couldn't allow something like that - they would discover Jim being an unusual child too soon and… Who knew what those wretched humans would attempt to do to him?
And not only that - the mother suddenly vividly imagined her son crying in the corner, calling for her in sheer desperation.
"You promised to stay with me no matter what! Was it a lie, mommy?" the imaginary Jim looked at her with a hurt look that broke her heart.
Barverra snapped out of her thoughts at once. It felt like an eternity had passed in her mind, while it was just a split second in reality. Below her Kanjigar was raising his sword ready to block whatever his foe was going to throw at him. It was exactly like Barverra predicted and she could easily continue with her suicidal plan, yet she wavered. Crying Jim was haunting her mind, so the Gumm-Gumm commander did something she would never imagine doing.
Instead of the initial plan, she used the raised Daylight sword as a springboard and propelled herself as far as she could.
What an irony - so many attempts to catch the Trollhunter off-guard during the fight ended in failure, yet the unexpected escape had done the job perfectly. Kanjigar's dumbfounded mug looked quite comic, but Barverra had no time to enjoy the sight and miss a valuable flight opportunity, so she darted through the forest as fast as she could.
Troll pride? Some centuries ago that would mean a world. Now it had become something she would throw away without a second thought for the sake of being with her dear child. Because the mother had to survive to protect Jim - everything else would be pointless rhetoric.
Some noise far behind told Barverra that the Trollhunter had recovered from the initial shock and decided to chase her. Figures - that was quite matter-of-course, it was his duty to fight Gumm-Gumms.
The female clenched teeth thinking how she could get away from her pursuer. She might have got some speed advantage, despite some exhaustion, not to mention the surprise factor handicapping Kanjigar, but when it came to trolls that was not that useful. The Trollhunter could still follow her scent. Leading the enemy right to her lair or even the house was the last thing Barverra wanted.
No, wait, there was a way to throw him off her track. Kanjigar was following the troll scent, so that one simply had to disappear. The woman thanked herself for taking the human turning potion with her just in case. Now she only needed to find a proper place for the change and it came to mind immediately - a popular camping spot was not that far from her current location. And the Trollhunter would not risk the secrecy of his kind - that one was nearly guaranteed. Besides, there was a stream right before Barverra which would easily confuse her enemy even more.
Without losing any more time, she leaped right into the water, crashing the vial with potion and letting the change take place. After that now the human female only needed to take cover in nearby bushes and hold her breath.
Kanjigar appeared in several painfully dragged moments looking around in clear confusion. As Barverra predicted, he lost the trail and now was considering his options.
But her luck wasn't that lasting. The Trollhunter was staying for too long for the woman's liking. Who would know, he could easily start searching around and find her hiding spot. And then… Barbara shuddered - the potion was able to change her body, but not clothing or possessions. Kanjigar, on other hand, was far from being a brainless idiot, he could easily put two and two together. With her biggest secret out, Jim would become a target too. Other trolls would never spare her son only because he was that small - being both a Gunmar's grandson and a detestable half-troll meant that most trolls were going to kill him on sight.
She needed to act as fast as possible. Another crazy idea crossed her adrenaline-driven mind. It was sink or swim kind of situation, yet the woman was willing to risk once again. So instead of keeping quiet Barbara poked her head out of bushes and called in an annoyed tone:
"Darling! Where are you? We're waiting!"
Even with her basically non-existent night sight, she was able to notice Kanjigar flinching. The reckless plan was working. The woman just needed one more push.
"Sweetheart? Is that you?" this time she faked some concern. "I'm coming!"
An immediate rustling of leaves and some scared birds told Barbara that the Trollhunter had abandoned his mission and decided on retreat. She sighed with relief feeling her knees giving up below her. Gosh, sometimes she hated the fleshbag body's weakness so much. What an irony that it was this pathetic, squishy meat lump that allowed her to survive an encounter!