Beneath (ᵀᴿᴼᴸᴸᴴᵁᴺᵀᴱᴿˢ)

Ch. 2 | ❝ᴀᴍᴜʟᴇᴛ ᴄʜᴏsᴇ.❞

❝ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪs ᴀɴɢᴇʀ, ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪs
ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ᴘᴀɪɴ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀɴᴇᴀᴛʜ.❞
- eckhart tolle

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Draal lied awake that night; tossing, turning, wrestling with his doubts over the one thing in his life he had always been certain. If not him, then who? The thought of the mantle passing on from his father to someone worthier burned. HE was the rightful heir and all of Trollmarket knew it!

Soon depressed at the sight of his walls, Draal trudged out of his cave and kept to the lonliest shadows of Trollmarket. He didn't care for the looks he had been receiving. Sympathy. Curiosity. Confusion. Everyone knew. They were waiting. There were complications this time, he felt he should roar. Complications . . .

He was going to be Trollhunter.

"It is a heavy responsibility to shoulder," Kanjigar had said. "It will test you in many ways. But I have faith you will prove yourself, my son."

The corners of Draal's mouth twitched. If he had been there . . .

Ah, but he couldn't blame himself for his father's death. To be Trollhunter was to be willing to give your life for the good of trollkind, answering the call no matter where it led you. The expectations were high and Kanjigar had exceeded them all, and Draal would not disappoint him. Draal growled at himself, loathing the funny feelings pressing into his chest. Wretch! he spat. Stop pitying yourself! He had no use for these emotions of . . . grief! Not now.

Having tucked himself into an alcove near Ely the Odd's smoke shop, he brooded. All day. Sullenly, he watched customers come and go, the therapeutic fumes changing color with each new visitor and swathing his hiding place in its odd scent. Then, he saw them:

Humans.

". . . You'll find most anything you need and sometimes you'll find what you never knew you needed."

Draal turned his head, coldly regarding the two fleshlings as they passed by following one of his own: Blinky. A troll infamous for conspiracy theories that had more or less shattered his credibility as a historian. For what came close to minutes all Draal could manage was a wild stare after them -- disgusted, enraged, and bewildered all at once. What in Deya's name were they doing here?!

He was getting to the bottom of this! Lip curling in a snarl, Draal stalked out of the darkness and into the streets, his belligerent display carving a clear path through the bustling marketplace. It didn't take him long to spot them in the market square gawking at the Heartstone alongside Blinky and the warrior AAARRRGGHH!!!. Those two . . . Eugh! Growling, Draal started toward them.

"Draal!"

He paused, but only because he didn't recognize the voice. Annoyed, he looked over his shoulder to see a filthy lapidary glaring at him from the entrance of her modest masonry, a coping saw in hand and a child clinging to her leg. Arching a brow, Draal looked her up and down with an aggravated expression.

. . .

Majul Ror. That was her name. What did she want? She had the ugliest scowl on her face that instantly blackened his mood, rich, dark eyes digging holes into him in explicit warning and disapproval. Who did she think she was? Insolent witch! Draal wasn't going to take that from anyone -- especially the likes of her! There were rumors she practiced more than simple crystal magic, and after one look into those eyes, Draal believed them all. Black as The Deep and cold as dead stone. How could she be a mother . . . ?

Sneering at her, Draal jerked around and stomped toward the gathering throng.

"What is this?!" he bellowed, shoving himself to the front of the crowd.

Blinky flinched, backing away as the warrior thundered up. "I was just getting to that, Draal," he said meekly.

Draal growled. "Human feet have never sullied the ground of Trollmarket before. Who are these fleshbags?" He bared his fangs as he came threateningly close to the lightwalkers. Males . . . The taller, lankier one of the pair had obsidian hair that was cut to his ears and neatly combed down with pale skin and widened eyes as clear blue as lake water; the other having a much wider build and bright ginger hair that stuck out awkwardly. Ridiculous creatures.

The historian looked everywhere but Draal, worry setting into his face as he nervously fiddled his fingers.

"He is, uh, how do I put this? Our new Trollhunter," he admitted with a weak smile.

Draal stiffened. Gasps sounded throughout the trolls, and for a breathless moment, all he could do was stare blankly at the shaking human. No. Hah -- no. NO. The mantle . . . it was choosing HIM.

"He can't be the Trollhunter!" he roared -- voice cracking in a cry. "HE'S NOT A TROLL!" He struck the ground in front of the boy with all the might of his fists, making him yelp and stumble back into AAARRRGGHH!!! who placed a protective arm between him and Draal.

"Amulet chose," said AAARRRGGHH!!! firmly. They knew nothing! Draal snarled and spit in his face, but the larger troll stood his ground unfazed, the pathetic stick-of-a-boy cowering into him at the sight of Draal's feral emotions.

"Try to remain calm," Blinky said quickly, and it took all of Draal's self-control not to wrap his fingers around his throat. "Destiny is just -- "

"Show him, Jimbo!"

Draal's furious eyes jumped to the other human huddled behind Blinky. He was glaring at him now, suddenly fearless. Show him?

Shoulders trembling, Draal watched as "Jimbo" shakily reached into his pocket and pulled out . . .

A familiar incantation, followed by the even more familiar crashes of suiting armor, then Draal saw it: His destiny. Clasped in the soft, thieving hands of flesh!

Definitely complications.