If anyone tried to ask around about the Lake household, they would probably get the same kind of story. Two people - a mother and a teenage son, abandoned by a good-for-nothing father. The woman, Barbara, working in a hospital. The boy, named Jim, attending school and taking care of the household chores. Both being nice people.
A trivial kind of story, that was for sure. Well, after all, Barbara Lake did her best to keep it that way. And whatever was hidden under the surface had always been her burden to carry, be it her past or plans for future. Even her son had no idea about everything she kept away from him.
Sometimes, the redhead wondered if she had made the right decision while choosing between blissful ignorance and harsh truth for her boy. Though, her favorite excuse had always been that she would tell Jim everything, just not now. It somehow ended in constant delays for various reasons, leaving their family in quite peculiar state, where trusting each other had been a household rule, yet the mother hid too much.
Another morning had started and the woman made a silent vow to confess everything, consequences be damned.
Barbara had always enjoyed peaceful moments when she simply could forget about all the complicated stuff. It was as if only the inside of her house was existing at the moment, with everything else being too far and meaningless. Maybe it was just a convenient delusion, fleeting and fragile, but those times were truly precious. And nonetheless, today she planned to crush that phantom tranquillity - hadn't she made a decision to tell her son everything she had been hiding for years? After that there wouldn't any way back, yet the woman wished to cross that Rubicon.
Before the mother managed to notice, Jim had turned fifteen already, and was approaching his sixteen birthday. And should she had mentioned him keeping to prove his own maturity and independence beyond the age? If anything, her son clearly understood how the world worked by now.
Exactly, his age used to be Barbara's main excuse to run away from the conversation. Ironically, now, as years had passed, it turned out to be even harder to start talking. Most likely, as a kid Jim would have been able to accept way more, but as a teen?
Barbara glanced at her son who was working his cooking magic in the kitchen. Such a typical picture for the morning, so serene and carefree. He seemed so relaxed, still unaware of incoming life changing talk. The woman wondered what kind of reaction her son could possibly have. Would he be scared? Angry? Though her bet was on initial skepticism or perhaps, even outright rejection - after all, the truth was not that easy to chew. Who in their right mind would be able to accept stuff from legends and fairy-tales as the actual reflection of reality?
The mother sighed - she certainly wished she could use some coffee to loosen up, but with Jim in close vicinity that was simply unrealistic. One of the rules her son enforced was 'no coffee before and especially instead of a proper meal'. Breaking that one would be a challenge. Sometimes she actually wondered which one of them was the true mother of their household.
Barbara watched the teen skillfully cutting the vegetables, the knife flying from right hand to left and back occasionally - it seemed so easy when he did it. It never ceased to amaze her how Jim had easily mastered something that kept escaping her for years. If the woman were still the one responsible for cooking they would either survive on junk food or suffer from some nasty regular food poisoning. No wonder that her son eventually took over the kitchen.
A blessed serenity, for sure.
No, wait, that wasn't right, she kept drifting away from the important topic, looking for some kind of distraction instead of attempting to find some kind of hook to start the conversation. Something that could lead to some natural progression and painless revelation would be nice. Though… Who she tried to fool? At this point, anything would be satisfactory, anything with at least vague connection to supernatural.
And as if answering to her mental plea, Jim gave her one unintentionally.
"Hey, mom, do you know if there's a way to prevent raccoons from scattering our trash? It's just getting ridiculous by this point," he complained while throwing some vegetables into the pan.
"Are you sure that those were raccoons?" Barbara asked carefully. She knew for sure that fluffy creatures had nothing to do with that - the culprits were obviously goblins who basically had flooded night streets, uncontrollable and chaotic. Scattering trash was probably the most innocent of their acts - green bastards were responsible for the vast majority of pets' disappearances and maybe even some human ones, not to mention some property damage. It was a true miracle that no one had noticed those so far, though last statement was uncertain already. Who said that there wasn't any local with knowledge about goblins?
"And who was that then?" Jim laughed dismissively, obviously taking everything as a joke. "Aliens? I'm not Eli, mom".
And so, even that phantom chance flew out the window. If her son at least believed in monsters and supernatural, that would be already a good starting point. Nevertheless, his skepticism simply killed everything prematurely.
Barbara's mind trailed to Eli Pepperjack - the weird kid that entire neighborhood knew about because of his ventures to prove existence of monsters and other mythical beings (and aliens apparently - the boy certainly didn't limit himself to one field). Most adults tended to wave off his evidence as some kind of delusion or attempt to attract attention, but Barbara knew better. From her point of view, Eli was plunging into some dangerous territory as if having a death wish. With Bular roaming around it was a true wonder how the curious teen had survived for so long and hadn't ended as a snack. Though most likely the main reason was that the boy simply hadn't enough meat for the son of Gunmar to bother and probably risk getting another reprimand from Stricklander. Not that it had ever troubled Bular, but he definitely hated lectures from the impure enough to look for a safer meal.
Eli clearly had chosen something too dangerous and the woman couldn't help wishing for that kid to give up on his search.
'That one will only lead him into the trouble,' the thought was unpleasant, but well, she had seen the situation where some paranoia and belief in supernatural ruined the peace. Barbara could care less, but that one involved her. And Elijah Pepperjack was also one of people in close vicinity, someone who could easily stumble upon some inconvenient secrets.
Probably, that kid had already become the potential danger. Wouldn't it be easier to get rid of him before another disaster?
No, Barbara made an oath some time ago never to touch any underage person.
She was certainly drifting in dangerous direction with that kind of thinking - perhaps, the woman had already become paranoid herself.
It didn't matter that much anyhow. Right now, the main problem was her son and his blissful ignorance.
Barbara sighed, mentally praying that Jim wasn't roaming night streets. He wasn't as far as she was aware and she genuinely wanted to trust her son's word, but on other hand... The mother could think out countless reasons for going out after sunset, which the teen would consider harmless enough even to mention.
She had to tell him. There had been too many dangers lurking under the surface. Who knew when those would decide to assault their peaceful life?
Yet she stayed silent losing courage at the last second. Ironically, the mother was too afraid of Jim's possible disdain and disapproval - after all, her life story had contained too many atrocious pages, her own morals were questionable to put it lightly, not to mention that the woman was actively helping to bring back a genocidal overlord. What kind of excuse was even possible for all of those? Well, all of that was from human point of view and change of perspective could easily flip everything, but...
In the end, her son had human morals and principles as his mother had no courage to raise him other way.
The food was splendid as usual, yet Barbara couldn't feel any taste because of anxiety. At least, she still was capable of holding facade despite her inner turmoil - some decades of pretending had taught her a lot. There was no space for worrying her son - poor kid was already sacrificing some of his precious time to make things easier for her.
Jim was talking about his school life, chuckling while mentioning his best friend Toby's recent obsession with some rare rock he found on e-Bay, then sighing when it came to Eli and his last blurry photograph of something huge and mysterious that virtually everyone took as something trivial (the quality was horrible after all). Then there was a brief pause and a story about some girl named Claire followed - and judging from her son's beaming expression, Barbara could tell for sure that there was more than just some interest - a hopeless crush, perhaps? With each passing minute the woman's conviction diminished more and more - there was no place for trolls and other supernatural beings in her boy's peaceful life.
Why was she even in rush to start with? She kept silent for more than fifteen years, it wouldn't hurt if it was prolonged for some more months or better years. Hadn't she thrown the Trollhunter off her tracks years ago? There wasn't any imminent danger or anything like that, so their little family could simply continue living the same way they had lived so far. Was there any need to destroy current peace where her son's biggest trouble was his struggles with lessons of his merciless Spanish teacher as Jim had mentioned only some moments ago?
"Uhl the Unforgiving?" Barbara laughed a bit at that nickname, deciding to put aside her worries for a while. "With that kind of moniker he could easily be some troll war-chief".
She realized what exactly she had said too late- deciding on "no trolls", but bringing them up as a humorous comparison right away. How was it even possible to make such a stupid slip-up after deciding to delay the important explanation? At least, Jim seemingly found it to be a witty joke and played along disagreeing with a chuckle:
"Nope, I think Coach Lawrence would fit troll war-chief image better - he's bulky and loud enough for that".
The disaster was prevented - for how long though? The mother wavered once again - maybe she actually needed to tell Jim about everything. That was getting too ridiculous - something so supposedly trivial scared her more than anything else in her life ever had.
Just a talk. Not to mention that there was no way to be embarrassed about her hidden life. She wasn't wrong - just her side had lost centuries ago and got no saying when it came to describing the history.
"Well, it is not like any of my teachers are that horrible," her son broke her reverie with his clarifying remark - probably coming to some wrong conclusion after noticing Barbara's sudden distress. "And some are great, like Mr. Strickler".
The seemingly innocent phrase made the woman freeze inside. What had her son said just now? No, that couldn't be right.
"Like who?" she asked, seriously hoping that she had misheard or something.
The hope was short-lived as Jim shrugged nonchalantly:
"Mr. Strickler... You know, my World History teacher. I'm pretty sure I have told about him many times".
"You've never told his name though," Barbara forced a weak smile, despite some rising irritation. Of course, Jim had told a lot about his World History teacher as that one, without any doubt, was his most favorite one. How could it be otherwise with a person who could spice his lessons with some humor, showed clear concern for his students' well-being, never refused to give an advice being it on his subject or something totally unrelated and was absolutely great person according to her son?
How could she miss something that obvious? It was careless of her to never ask the name of that impossibly charming guy, even though she was well-aware of Stricklander's human cover! Even though Barbara had thoroughly investigated the changeling and learned what kind of job he had. Yes, the woman was reluctant to have Jim in the same school where someone like that worked, but she decided to let it be for a time being. Her son was one of the many, the chances that Stricklander would notice him were minimal. That was a typical hide a tree in a forest tactics, yet it seemingly failed.
The woman frowned slightly, wondering if that could be some kind of scheme. That impure was smart enough to try something like that, after all. In they end, they both had a feud despite being on the same side. Hadn't her involvement in the plan of the rebuilding the Killahead Bridge put Stricklander further down the line? Everyone knew that Gunmar valued and rewarded only those who had some use and the changeling obviously had felt his own position (and possibly even chances for survival) shaken. With only Bular around he could still be in charge as the Skullcrusher's son definitely needed someone to provide him a shelter and cover his regular "hunts". Barbara's appearance was game-changing for sure - she had no need for any help, so it was impossible to bind her down with obligations. Not to mention that Gunmar hold her planning in high regard and trusted her way more than any impure could even dream about. That meant she could took over Stricklander's position any time if she ever wished so.
Of course, the impure was dying to find anything that would give him power over the woman and getting close to Jim was a certain way to be in control.
Yes, that sounded plausible, but... Wasn't she getting too paranoid and building some far-fetched theories? Did the changeling even have any guts to pull something like that? To make a dangerous enemy like her? No, to start with, had he ever got an opportunity to learn her son identity when Barbara did her best to keep her life outside their plans to rebuild Killahead secret? Stricklanderwas smart, but would he be able to read that much? To even consider such possibility that the key was so close to his reach?
Maybe the mother could ask Jim about his link with his favorite teacher just to clarify things a bit. A lot was depending on how close that bastard had gotten to her boy.
"Why I've got a feeling that you're Mr. Strickler's favorite student?" she started carefully, forcing a relaxed smile while everything inside was boiling. "It sounds like he's always there for you".
Yet her son shook his head and corrected Barbara:
"It's more like he's there for everyone, I think. And it's awesome".
That was some tremendous relief - so all her assumptions turned out to be forced and contrived. In the end, Stricklander was simply too good at playing his benevolent and compassionate teacher role and Jim just had been lured right into that web of deception like many other of his peers. Most likely, her son was simply an easier victim to that kind of charm - despite putting up a brave facade, the boy still missed someone he could call a father, someone deserving his total respect and admiration. And that alone would make him drift towards any man in his close vicinity who would be willing to offer some life wisdom and pose as a great role model.
The biggest problem was that so-called Mr. Strickler wasn't the kind of person deserving that kind of fondness from her son. But what could she possibly do as a responsible mother? Tell him something like 'hey, kiddo, don't get too close to your World History teacher, because he's actually a shapeshifting troll working to achieve destruction of the humankind'? That sounded so ludicrous, no matter how true it was. Not to mention that telling about Stricklander would mean telling about herself as well.
And…
Humanity eradication was her end goal as well.
That would be some ultimate hypocrisy to accuse the impure in something the woman did herself as well.
"Mom?" Jim's worried voice made Barbara return to reality once again. Somehow she just kept getting lost in her own thoughts too much - and that didn't go unnoticed much to her chagrin. "You ok? You look so pale".
"Just tired," she shook her head with another weak smile.
"You'd better have some good rest then," her son added with an obvious concern. "You work too much lately. How many additional shifts have you had this month? Sometimes I wonder if your co-workers have any shame to request you substituting for them all the time!"
There were some clearly irritated notes in his tone and the mother couldn't actually blame the teen for that - from his point of view her colleagues were abusing her kindness non-stop. However it was quite far from truth - yes, Barbara took additional work now and then, but not to the point when it would count as overworking. It was simply that the woman also had another 'work'. Essentially, most of her so-called shifts involved changelings, Bular and the Killahead Bridge.
Truth to be said, the woman was going to have another progress check that night, but Jim's concern made her reconsider her plans. One day wouldn't change much in any case when they were working on it for decades. And honestly, she would prefer not to see Stricklander right now, before getting a hold on her own anger - otherwise there would be some torn off limbs.
In the end, Jim simply left to hang out with his best friend Toby, not aware of his mother's inner conflict. Well, at least not fully aware as he had noticed that something was off, but probably had chalked it to tiredness from overworking. It seemed that another day was going to pass without the truth being revealed.
The status quo remained unchanged, it seemed.
It was quite an irony that Barbara could easily imagine her own confession, when her son wasn't around and yet in his presence all good words were vanishing into the thin air.
Nevertheless, right now those were flowing mentally, destined never to reach the one they were meant for.
Have you ever considered the possibility that there's more to reality than official version claims? You know, Jim, the world around us has too many mysteries and humanity isn't the only sentient kind, it's more like the one that won the right to flourish under the sun while others were forced into hiding. Does it sound unfair? Well, you cannot judge winners, in the end.
There is a race unlike humans, born in lands without visible sky or sunlight, proud and powerful creatures made from living stone. Humankind calls them trolls.And well, the history behind their relationship isn't that peaceful.
During the ancient times two kinds were clashing for possession of the surfacelands. Sometimes those encounters were small local fights, sometimes those grew into full-scale wars. And then out of strife and conflict, the ultimate troll was born - the one meant to be the true king, the one possessing enough strength to conquer the world and bring glory to his race. His name was Gunmar the Black, the Vicious, the Skullcrusher - they gave him more than enough titles as he was ascending to his rightful position.
Is it surprising that not everyone was pleased with that? Of course, humans felt as if they had the right to wipe everyone else, but there were also many trolls who were either too shortsighted or outright stupid to realize that the Gunmar's rule was the only way for them to prosper. They went so far in that defiance that they actually preferred to unite with humans and made a treacherous attack that sealed the right king and his army in the place called Darklands.
How do I know all of that? I was there after all, no matter how crazy it may sound - not from the very start, but at least I had seen many events from the Gunmar's era. No, it's not right, it wasn't something as simple as just witnessing - I was actively participating. Yes, I'm way older than you can even imagine and Barbara isn't even the name my parents gave to me - it's just something I had picked up eventually as it sounded a bit like my true one.
You have probably started guessing by now, but I'm not a human, just someone given the shape of one with some magical help. Well, there is a good share of shapeshifting trolls in this world, but our means to blend are too different - they were granted an ability to change forms freely after going through a disgusting ritual. I'm, on other hand, more limited in my resources as I depend on potions.
You may wonder about my true identity…I am the daughter of Gunmar, one of his loyal commanders and there were times when I was among most trusted ones. Though I have no idea if my father is willing to believe in me now. You see, I was one of few allies who escaped the sealing, yet unlike others I had committed an unforgivable crime of giving up and escaping without trying to avenge my father's honor or find a way to free him.
Instead of that I was just roaming pointlessly like a beaten dog with no place to stay. I say, I got desperate enough eventually as it led me to relying on human witches' help - I assure you, it's not the thing any troll will ever dare to brag of. I had no other choice though. They gave me the means to hide, they taught me how to be a human and blend - well, at least, some basics of that as I learned the most myself during my later wandering. Those were decades of living in different places.
I won't deny, I had had many husbands before your father - just enough to forget the names of some less impressive ones. All of them were just some part of my cover - and James Lake wasn't different. So losing any of them was always in line of 'God riddance'. I know I looked quite distressed when your father disappeared from our lives, but it wasn't because I was heart-broken - I have never been in love with anyone and honestly, he wasn't someone I would give my heart to. My mental state back then… No, I'm not ready to speak about it yet - I'll tell you eventually, but not now…
Yes, you father was a human, but with my heritage, your situation is not that simple. Maybe, you'll never be able to forgive me for keeping it from you for that long. I can imagine you've noticed some weird irregularities, some of them, perhaps, scared and confused you. That's because you're a halfling, a half-troll, the kind of creature even my own people would rather consider some kind of fairy-tale. As far as they told me, your time as a fully human is limited - and you have no idea how many troubled moments I have had through the years when I assumed that it ran out. I would do anything in my power to prolong your peaceful life, but I cannot stop inevitable. One day you may possibly not be able to walk under the sunlight without magical interference. Your looks most likely will change drastically to the point that your friends won't be able to recognize you anymore. And there is a high chance that there won't be any true friends left after they see the true you.
After all, it has always been us against them. Humankind has sworn to wipe our kind from the face of the earth - they always have hated everything that is above them or beyond their comprehension. This war has never truly ended, it just entered the cold phase. Humans are short-lived, so they have easily forgotten, treating true history of old times as some kind of legend.Yet no matter how many centuries pass, their aversion to anything different will stay. I've seen that too many times to believe otherwise.
On other hand, many trolls who are alive today were there during those events. We have a long lifespan and an impressive memory, so no one would try to just sweep everything under rug. Well, I mean ones who I consider true trolls, not those cowardly backstabbing traitors who revolted against their rightful ruler and took part in his sealing - those will always continue to defy their true nature and hide like rats pretending that there was no conflict to start with.
They are squirming underneath Arcadia right now - they've built an entire Trollmarket there. You need to know that those guys are most likely our biggest enemy at the moment, especially their protector named Kanjigar who holds the mantle of the Trollhunter. I've encountered him because of my own carelessness, making him aware of my presence here. That was a grave mistake, which may bring a danger upon you. My dear son, you've done nothing, but in those traitors' eyes you'll always be the grandson of Gunmar first, the potential threat, the one they would prefer to see dead before you grow dangerous enough.
But don't be afraid - at the moment, your mother helps with rebuilding of the Killahead bridge - the one that acts as a gate to the Darklands. That is why I'm not at home too often lately. As soon as we finish, Gunmar will lead his hordes to revive his kingdom and everyone who has ever dared to oppose him will be eliminated...
Barbara stopped her imaginary talk to Jim abruptly as a hard realization hit her. Did she actually plan to word it that way? No, that wasn't right or good enough - she was basically thinking about telling her son to start hating humanity out of blue when he was a part of human society for entire life. But was it even possible to explain it differently? Were there those so-called right words to start with? Not to mention how abridged her story felt knowing that it omitted too many important points - that would take countless hours to cover everything and there were things the mother would totally hate mentioning.
It led nowhere - Barbara was just running in circles, realizing with each passing second that it was becoming more and more problematic. Weighting pros and cons was actually pointless - there was only one reason why she couldn't start that talk, something going on for years.
Jim was afraid to find out that he could possibly be a monster (not that there was no ground for such suspicions) and his mother knew it better than anyone else. That fear had been plaguing his mind for a long time and most likely would never fully disappear. It was the result of a horrible childhood trauma, after all.
How could she possibly tell her child that it wasn't a baseless fantasy, that he was actually only a half-human, not to mention a grandson of someone who treated humanity as a prey?