...And I am back! After some debating, I decided to switch the tense I am writing in from past to present. I will go back and correct the other chapters to match eventually. Okay, on with the show!


He should feel something. He had just found out that his father is dead. Why didn't he feel anything?

Jim's thoughts swirl, half-formed. He tries to grab hold of them, tries to think back, tries to remember the man that had once been his father...

The scuffy feeling of stubble as a kiss is planted on his cheek. A boisterous voice entering the room. Warm crab-cakes. Bike-parts strewn across the garage floor, filling his nose with their sweet and oily scent...

The memory of being awoken by the sound of shouting.

"Confidencial! Do you know what's not confidencial? The employee records! I called your office and do you know what they said? They said you no longer work for them! Haven't in months! So help me James, if one more lie comes out of your mouth! Hell, I saw you pack your skis last time! I hope you had fun playing around without me on your mind! Or Jim? You don't give a shit about our son, do you?"

"DON'T SAY THAT! You don't understand!"

"-I don't understand?! I don't UNDERSTAND?! That's just rich. That's just-"

The sound of something being kicked or broken. He pulls the covers over his head and squeezes a stuffed rabbit close...

It is his birthday. He has woken up early, too excited to sleep. As he makes his way down the stairs he catches his mother unaware. She sits sullenly in a chair staring out the window. As he comes closer he notices tears sliding freely down her cheeks. He is scared. Moms don't cry. Do they?

When she sees him she jumps and rubs a sleeve across her face. She gives him the most unconvincing smile he's ever seen, one that turns down at the corners.

"Honey, I didn't know you were up."

He is terrified, unnerved by that terrible imitation of a smile. He grasps to make sense of it. The young child's brows furrow, he knows it has something to do with his father. He hasn't seen him in a couple weeks. But today was his birthday. His father had to come back for his birthday.

Hadn't he?

"Mom, where's Dad?"

The smile falters, then breaks. A wretched sound escapes his mother's throat as she begins to sob. She scoops Jim up and holds him close. He is a bit big to be sitting on her lap, but she cradles him anyways. He can feel tears drip on his hair and wet his scalp. They tickle, but he holds still, too frightened to move.

After a long while his mother's breathing slows and her tears lesson. She takes a deep breath, rubs her eyes and repostions him on her lap so that they are facing each other.

"It's just us now," She tells him. "We have to take care of each other." She strokes his hair and kisses his head.

Gone. Disappeared. He would hear a lot of whispered words in the coming months. Loser. Cheat. Deadbeat. Deadbeat dad.

His deadbeat dad is dead.

"Jim?" Claire's voice. It is faint, hesitant.

He catches movement out of the corner of his eye. Stricklander. The green changeling is straightening up, glancing upward towards the ceiling with worried eyes. He takes a step toward the stairs.

Jim launches over the coffee table. He is deaf to the cries from several in the room. In the blink of an eye he grabs Sticklander's arm and pins it behind his back. A light rumble rolls from his chest.

"Don't." He says it calmly, but firmly.

"I was only going to check and see if-"

"She's my mother. Last thing she needs his you right now." He loosens his grip, perhaps a bit apologetically, and turns to face the changeling.

"Anymore revelations? What else do you know about my…my father." The last word comes out strange, feeling foreign on his lips.

"I'm afraid I told you all I know. Transparency wasn't exactly a company policy. I held a lower position at the time and wasn't exactly privy to the details."

Jim sighs and releases Sticklander. "Stay here" he says sternly and turns away, ascending the stairs.

His mother's door is closed, as he knew it would be. He takes a breath and raps his knuckles against it. The result is louder than he intended, the sound of marbles dropped on a wooden floor.

"Mom?"

There is no answer.

He listens carefully. He can hear soft uneven breathing on the other side.

He knocks again. "Mom? I know you're in there. C'mon! We can talk about this."

Silence. The beginnings of anger start to bubble in his stomach. Part of him wants very much to barge through the door, to rip it from is frame and hurl it across the room. He closes his eyes and swallows hard, trying to ignore the tightness in his chest, the feeling of a growl being suppressed. He closes his fists and turns his back on the door. Fine. If she doesn't want to talk to him she doesn't have to.

Jim's feet fall heavily as he makes his way back down the stairs. All eyes are on him. He takes a breath.

"Well, We have a big day ahead of us!" He says, clapping his hands together and deliberately ignoring the questions on their faces. "Anyone up for breakfast? Claire? Tobes? I can make a mean omelette."

He makes his way into the kitchen and begins fumbling through the cabinets, grabbing a mixing bowl from one shelf and a carton of eggs from the fridge. Claire and Toby saunter in after him. Claire leans back against the counter, trying to stay out of the way as Jim begins fervently whisking the eggs. Toby stands to the side, his eyes peering at Jim questioningly.

"Is everything okay Jim?" Toby says suddenly. Claire gives him a look.

"What?" Jim lifts the whisk in a shrug, splattering eggs on the floor. "Everything is fine. Totally under control. Mom just— She said she needed some time to think and not to worry."

"I think what Toby meant is, 'Are you fine?'" Claire's warm brown eyes bore into him. Blinkey's long head emerges from the doorway, peaking into the small room.

"Of, course I'm fine! -Now where is that feta." Jim sets the bowl down and sticks his head in the fridge, searching. A large hand presses reassuringly against his shoulder.

"You don't have to hide anything from us, Master Jim."

Jim straightens and looks into Blinky's six eyes, which blink back at him, their timing slightly out of sink.

He sighs. "Guys, listen. I'm fine, really. My dad and I weren't exactly close. Heck, he left so long ago I can hardly even remember him." His voice takes on a subdued tone as he continues, "It's not like much has changed anyways...My dad's been dead to me for years." He looks into Blinky's face and forces a smile. "Besides," he says, giving a meaningful look to Toby and Claire over Blinky's shoulder, "I have all the family I need right here." Blinky looks like he would blush if it were possible for him to do so. He gives Jim a clumsy pat on the shoulder before taking a step back. Jim is relieved to see that Toby and Claire look more at ease. Jim smiles at them and forces some enthusiasm into his voice.

"Now, who wants my special feta, spinach, and mushroom omelettes?"

The preparation of the meal proceeds without much incident. Merlin makes a bit of a fuss when Jim suggests that he should get dressed before receiving his meal, (The length of the robe he is currently lounging in is making them all uncomfortable) but he eventually concedes when Jim offers to fry up some bacon as part of the bargain. When all the humans had been served Jim walks to the head of the table. He stands there for a moment, placing his blue fingertips on the wood as he gathers his thoughts. Then, he begins to speak.

"I want to start the search for the new Heartstone as soon as possible. Blinky," He turns to his right where Blinky sits, closely observing the top end of a salt shaker. He straightens at the mention of his name hurriedly places it back on the table. "Can you navigate the gyre to New Jersey tonight?"

Blinky's eyebrows rise and he presses the fingers of his top two hands together, tapping them in quick succession. "Ah, yes, about that. I don't believe the gryes will be in a functional condition at the moment."

"Good." Aaaaargh grumbles from a corner. "No like Grye."

Jim's mouth opens agape. He hadn't expected cracks in his plan this early on.

"Not working? How could they not be working?"

"Why Master Jim, I assumed you knew! It's right there in-"

"-A Brief Recapitulation of Troll Lore." Jim chimes in pressing a hand to his forehead.

"Volume 42."

"I've been a bit busy, Blinky, you know trying to stop eternal night and all that."

"Well, had you read it you would know that the Heartstone doesn't just have healing properties-"

"-Its magical resonance is the very lifesource of Trollmarket," Claire finishes. Blinky beams at her. She continues. "Troll artifacts aren't powered by electricity, they are connected to the magic of the Heartstone. Without it…"

"Blackout." Toby finishes.

Jim closes his eyes and takes a breath. "Fine," he said. "New plan." He pauses, thinking. "Merlin," The wizard looks up, from the opposite end of the table, his mouth full of bacon. "Could you make us a portal there?"

Merlin swallows. He gazes appraisingly at Jim under half lidded eyes. "Oh sure, I'll just zapp us right over there, and while I'm at it why don't I also magically restore all the damage that has been done to the city."

"Wait! You can do that!" Toby shouts excitedly.

Merlin gives him a sidelong glare. "It appears that my use of verbal irony may still be ahead of the times." Toby stares nonplussed. Merlin rolls his eyes and continues, "The Skathe-Hrün was a very powerful instrument and even it's scope is limited. The wielder had to have an emotional anchor to the person or location on the other side. It is possible to construct a bridged gateway of sorts between two places with the right ingredients, construction, and spells, but that involves having already visited the location to make such preparations possible"

Jim flusters. "Okay, so no grye, no teleportation, we can't exactly all just hop in a car and hit the road...so…"

"Summer cross-country camping trip!" Toby bursts out, raising both hands in the air.

"C'mon Tobes, be serious."

"I am serious! Come on! School just ended, the summer is here. I've always wanted to go on a camping trip. Just me, my cronies, and the open road." He stretches an arm out, his eyes distant.

"It's actually not a completely awful idea." Claire pitches in, her voice thoughtful.

"Exactly! Wait-" Toby's face falls and he glares at Claire. "Heyyyyyy-"

"Okay, okay, let's just say for the sake of the argument we did just leave on foot and head east. How are a couple of teenagers, a wizard, two large trolls, and whatever the heck I am," he gestures down to himself, "supposed to remain undiscovered. Word may be out if Arcadia, but I doubt the rest of the world will take the existence of Trolls very well."

"We'll keep to the wilderness, travel by night." Claire says, "I've read some good survival guides."

"We have no idea how long a trip like this could take. What about school?"

"Summer vacation!" Tobey shouts.

"And if it takes longer than the summer, I have more than enough credits to graduate early and take a gap year!"

Jim observes his friends' glowing faces. He is tempted to throw all caution to the wind and fully accept their proposal right then and there. He can't though, not yet. He is bond to this duty. From the first day the amulet called to him all that might have been his future (highschool, college, perhaps even culinary school), was lost. They could still walk away at any time. It was a freedom of choice he often wished he still had. He would not deny them of it.

"Toby. Claire," he says gently, "I appreciate the enthusiasm, I really do," he swallows, "but I don't want either of you to jump into a decision you will regret. This journey may be long,"

"I'm going to get so many steps in!" Toby says, glancing at his chubby-tracker.

"dark,"

"I've always loved the stars."

"and possibly dangerous."

"Well that settles it." Tobey says. "If there is danger, who is better for the job than the trusty Trollhunters!" He reaches a hand out towards the center of the table. Claire put her's on top of it. They both look towards Jim. He feels the corner of his lips tug. Relenting, he places a four fingered hand on top of the others.

"On the count of three." Tobey says, counting down. "-One- -Two- -Three-"

"Trollhunters!" Claire and Jim chime.

"Summer cross-country camping...I-mean-trollhunters!" Tobey finishes.

And there, standing amongst his friends. Jim feels lighter than he has in days.


After some more discussion Jim excuses himself and makes his way down into the basement. It had been decided that if they were to go on a long journey they should first travel to trollmarket to collect a few odd and ends. Jim had wanted to leave soon, during the day if possible. It was due to this decision that he was currently in the basement. He walks up to the heavy metal utility shelves beneath the stairs, piled with years of lost, old, and unneeded objects. Jim plants his feet firmly on the ground and pushes. The shelves slide back with less effort than he had expected, revealing a gaping hole that proceeds forward a bit before disappearing downward into an inky blackness.

The passageway had been Blinky's idea. Draal was still living in Jim's basement at the time and it was becoming harder and harder for him to come and go from the house unnoticed. Blinky, historian that he was, had been delighted to find the old blueprints of the city of Arcadia. It was with these that he had discovered the old sewer system that ran in close proximity to Jim's house. Arrrrrgh moved the heavy shelves, Draal charged the wall with a barrel roll, and in no time at all they had a troll-sized entrance leading to the sewers and the canal beyond. Move the shelves back in place and you could hardly notice the gaping hole.

Jim had offered to go down and move the shelves in preparation for the others, while they ran home to pack. Honestly, he had offered mostly to steal a few quick moments for himself. He had noticed their eyes lingering a bit too long on him when they didn't think he was looking, quickley averting when he glanced back their way. Jim wasn't sure what they were watching for. Did they expect him to suddenly have an outburst, too break into tears over a father he had never known? Or was it more simple than that? Were they just unnerved by his new form, by all the ways he was the old Jim, yet wasn't. Either way, the façade of normalcy was exhausting. He had needed the escape.

He takes a step back and stares at the hole. He had watched Draal emerge from it countless times. Looking into that gaping darkness now he almost expects a bronze hand to emerge followed by a large blue form. He would would smile wryly at Jim, as if to say, 'Did you think I could be killed that easily?'

But Draal didn't emerge. Would never emerge again. He is dead. Crumbled in pieces at the bottom of a flooded tomb.

The funny and terrible thing is that Draal was the one person (or troll) that Jim desperately wishes he could talk to right now. Before meeting Jim, Draal had been the very embodiment of what Trollmarket thought a troll should be. He was brave, strong, and true to the troll's laws and traditions. Sure, he could also be bullish, prideful, and impulsive, but within the community this wasn't necessarily seen negative. It was Jim who had introduced Draal to the more human concepts of mercy, forgiveness, and friendship. Perhaps if Draal were still around he could have instructed Jim in how to manage his new troll nature, senses that feel too intense, instincts that whisper, unheard, but not unacknowledged by a body that feels only half his own, and the anger and frustration that seems at all times to brew just below the surface.

And then there was the recent double revelation about his father. Draal, of anyone, understood what it was like to have daddy issues. He would not judge Jim if he admitted to the dark thoughts that had plagued him over the years, the times he really had wished his father was dead. During nights when he had awoken to the soft sound of his mother crying he would fervently wish for some calamity or other to befall the man. Then, on other occasions, he found himself daydreaming, lost in a fantasy in which his father, having finally remembered his son's birthday, returned. Draal would have just listened, maybe snort or nod his head stiffly now and again. He wouldn't offer solutions or badger Jim with further questions. He would just listen.

And that would have be enough.

Jim rips his eyes away from the hole, blinking rapidly. Damn it. He can't fall apart now. There are too many people counting on him. He turns around, but facing the rest of the room he is engulfed with more memories. Draal wielding the broomstick in the corner, displaying a proper fighting stance. Draal lumbering to the window and peering out at the darkness beyond. Draal saying he could make this place home...scattering some coals from the furnace across the floor and popping a few in his mouth.

Jim's stomach growls.

Much like sleep, Jim is not entirely sure how much nourishment he needs. He isn't even sure how much trolls need. Sure, they would down a large amount of glug or socks if prompted, but Jim had also seen quite large trolls such as Aaaargh be satisfied by comparatively small amount of nourishment. Seeing as he is some crazed wizard's dreamed up science experiment he figures it is anybody's guess.

Jim's stomach growls again. It doesn't exactly feel the same as human hunger, more of a general hollowness than the clenching muscles, but it is still unpleasant. He glances toward the stairs and listens, but doesn't hear much. Claire and Toby don't appear to be back, yet. Good. Jim is still trying to wrap his head around the weirdness of his new form. The last thing he needs is an audience.

He takes a few hesitant steps towards the furnace. He opens the grate and peers at the red embers. It doesn't look very much like food. Feeling silly, he begins to close the door, but before he does his nose catches a whiff of the coal. His head leans closer, unbidden, and he takes a deep sniff. In many ways it smells exactly how he expects it to. It smells like coal. Coal, the human part of his mind wants to label it and file it away. But wait, says another part. The smell is fuller than it had been in his previous life. It smells, warm, smokey, and makes his mouth water like a grilled steak. He licks his tongue across his front teeth.

His hand lurches into the furnace. No! screams sixteen years of instincts-

But his hand is already in the flames.

Jim squeezes his eyes shut expecting pain, but finds none, just a warm tickle. He opens his eyes and withdraws his hand, uncurling his palm to reveal the lump of charcoal, still glowing red in places. He can feel the heat, but it is pleasant, like dipping his hands into a warm bath.

Before he can question himself further he throws the rock into his mouth. It has a smokey, but not unpleasant flavor. His teeth grind into it. It is less solid than he anticipated, porous in a way that yields a satisfying crunchiness. He is amused to find himself comparing it to dry cereal. Emboldened by his success he throws another into his mouth, then another. He munches until his stomach ceases complaining. In place of the hollowness that gnawed at him earlier, he feels a pleasant warmness, as if he had just had a warm bowl of soup.

His ears tug toward the stairs. He quickly closes the furnace.

The door at the top of the stairs opens and Claire emerges.

"Jim, do you need help moving the shelves? Blinky said...Oh, you got it" she says, her eyes glancing down at the shelf. She has a large duffle bag swung over her shoulder.

"Toby just texted. He is on his way back, so we all should be ready to go soon." She begins climbing down.

"Oh and I told my parents about our trip." She glances away from him towards the corner of the room. "They are fine totally fine it." Her voice is cheerful, but it sounds slightly off.

"Really?" He raises an eyebrow. "We are talking about your parents, right?"

Claire's eyebrows furrow and her face darkens. "They aren't as bad as you think."

"I wasn't saying they were bad" he stammers, surprised in the sudden change in tone. "I was just...surprised is all. Pleasantly surprised." He holds his hands up defensively.
I just know how much they care for your safety"

Claires face softens and seems to recompose itself. "Well, perhaps after everything that has gone down, they have finally realized I can take care of myself."

Jim can't help but feel slightly dissatisfied by this answer. Something just feels off. Sure, Claire's parents had learned alot about their daughter and her capabilities over the past day, but for them to simply okay a trip across the country just seemed...strange. He is unsure how to react. It is with some relief that he hears the others coming and turns towards the stairs.

Toby is panting, followed by Blinky and Arrgh. He is wearing two backpacks, one on his back and the other across his front.

"I came back-" he gasps and splutters, "as quickly as possible. When I told Nana I was going on a summer camping trip she wanted me to bring some of the cats who she said needed 'fresh air'. He cups one hand to his mouth and whispers conspiratorially. "Between you and me, I don't know how many cats are left."

"Two" Arrrgh says helpfully. "Was saving for later."

Blinky emerges from behind the other two.

"Ah, Master Jim, you have succeeded in removing the shelves, excellent!"

Jim stares at the surrounding party.

"Where is Merlin?"

A look of annoyance crosses Blinky's face. "He muttered something inintelligible and then ran out. I'm sure he will be back later. Or at least I think he will." One of his hands rubs his chin. "Not that he is of much help anyways," he mutters darkly, "but it seems this is a trip we will have to perform without his *ahem* assistance."

Jim nods. "Okay, let's go." He turns forward, leading the others into the passage and dropping down into the hole beyond. One by one they are engulfed by darkness.


I would just like to remind everyone that coal is not edible. Controlled-Fall holds no responsibility should you feel the inclination to touch or eat hot embers. :D Anyways, I hoped you enjoyed this chapter. Now, even though I never end up answering the questions I pose within the next chapter, (The chapters never go as far into the plot as I initially think they will) I am going to ask them anyways because I like pretending to be an old-fashioned radio host.

What awaits our heroes in TrollMarket? What has become of The Forge? Will Tobey ever be unscarred from the sight of Merlin standing up a bit too quickly in his bathrobe? Find out next time!