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“You gave him what ?” Strickler yelled.
Merlin sighed, rolling his eyes. “The boy’s not strong enough as a human to take on both Gunmar and Morgana,” he repeated slowly, as if it were obvious, “I don’t want him to fail, that is why I gave him the choice.”
“That’s bull!” Toby exclaimed, getting in his face. “You didn’t give him a choice, you gave him an order! You told Jim the whole story about the world ending if he didn’t use that potion to become a troll, so he feels like he has to do it!”
Claire threw her phone hard on the table. “He’s not answering his phone!” Her upper lip trembled.
“We have to talk him out of this, get him to take his own path,” Barbara murmured, but everyone heard her loud and clear. She ran up the stairs to the closed bathroom followed by all the others, except Merlin, who crossed his arms in resignation.
“Fate will happen one way or another, there is no backing out of this,” he muttered to himself.
The lukewarm water was still, Jim’s human face perfectly reflected in it. He sighed, looking down at the image for what he knew was the last time. The boy raised the jar in his hand, the murky liquid restless as if tiny storms were brewing inside. He unscrewed the lid, tilting the container, the slightly gelatinous matter sliding out and falling gently in the tub, rippling the surface. It mixed with the clear water instantaneously into an abyss of nothingness.
The door rattled behind him, but he didn’t dare look away from the water. He knew that if he would, he wouldn’t be able to go through with it. Jim fished the amulet out of his pocket, the blue glow eerily haunting, almost a warning. He slowly placed it on his chest, as he’d done so many times before, but with an unprecedented feeling.
I’m making the right decision.
This is for my friends, for the whole world.
If only it were that simple. The voices beyond the door grew louder, begging him to stop, pleading with him. The reason the door hadn’t yet broken or splintered was that they wanted him to open it.
They trusted him. After all he’d done, all the pain he’d caused among his victories, they still respected him enough to trust his decision. Jim’s heart sank. He tore his eyes away from the bathtub, for a second, focusing on the shaking wood. He reached out to the voices, but stopped midway. A new voice beckoned him in the opposite direction, one he’d grown to despise, but had to listen to.
You are weak. Your humanity is your weakness. With it, you will never win this fight. Without it…well, you might have a fighting chance.
Dread filled every inch of Jim’s body. His hand tensed, still outstretched towards the door. He closed his eyes, tuning out the voices of his family and friends, focusing on what had to be done. For the good of all didn’t include himself, but everything and everybody else? Those, all those precious lives that were about to be cut short? Yes. And if Jim wanted to be called a true hero, he could not afford to be selfish, even if it pained him to hurt his team.
Jim turned back towards the bathtub, feeling like the weight of the world was pushing him down, because it was. He knew it for quite some time, but pretended he could handle it, because if he couldn’t, that responsibility would fall onto someone else‘s shoulders. He would not, could not, unburden himself by making another creature suffer. Destiny being his, he could not run away from it, the amulet and he were bonded forever, or however long he would live.
The door shuddered again, the banging and voices on the other side drowning out Jim’s thoughts. Determined, he set his shoulders. He slowly walked to the edge of the tub, raising a foot and dipping it in the black water.
The door swung open, Jim’s friends spilling out, closely followed by his family. Toby held his warhammer tightly in his hands. Claire was white knuckling her shadow staff, the energy from it slowly seeping back into her reserves. Strickler and Barbara were equally shocked and apprehensive.
“Stop. I know you want to convince me not to, but I have to do this,” Jim spoke somberly, quickly putting his other leg in.
“Like heck you need to!” Claire shouted, rushing towards him.
“I’m sorry.” Jim shook his head.
Toby was frozen in the doorframe. The two adults behind him began forward, but he stopped them with his warhammer.
Jim was the trollhunter. He had an entire life ahead of him. So many people cared about him, wanted to help. Jim had never wronged anyone, always choosing to save rather than destroy. He was the embodiment of a hero, one that was ready to throw away his humanity to save people that would never have as much as he. A hero with a foot in both worlds… That was an illusion. He would never see the sun, couldn’t go to college or the city without people screaming. Trollmarket trolls would accept him, but what about others, like the Kruberas? Would they see him as anything but an impure? As a failed hybrid? One way or the other, Jim would have to choose between the two worlds, and with conditions.
But himself, Toby…He had no one, not really. His nana loved him so, but when she would pass, would there be anyone out there willing to die for him? He was the sidekick, the comic relief, and while he didn’t mind it, he always felt useless when he couldn’t contribute. He could never help, just sitting there in shock while Jim suffered in silence. No one would miss him. How could he possibly free Jim of his pain, if for a second, if he didn’t take on some of the burden himself?
Toby ran at Jim, knocking him out of the tub onto the floor, and took his place in the water, submerging himself instead.
Hours later, Toby awoke with a gasp. He sat up disoriented, the world a blurry mess. He rubbed a hand over his eyes to clear his vision. The contact against his skin felt strange, rough. Like when he used to touch his igneous rocks from his collection, feeling every edge under his soft skin.
Only, he would never experience that particular sensation ever again. In the moonlight, Toby looked more closely at his hand. The black stone was slick and smooth with some jagged edges that caught the light and almost shined. It was obsidian alright. Magma, or molten rock that erupted out a volcano and solidified instantly.
Toby flexed his new rock fingers experimentally. They seemed to move like his human ones, but made a clinking sound whenever they touched. He still had all five of them on his right hand and apart from the new texture, didn’t seem any different. He brought up his left hand to look for any differences between the two. His eyes widened as he looked closer at his left thumb, which had a green colouration to it. One of the rarest types of obsidian that he’d spent his entire life trying to find, and he had it inside his flesh. Could it even be considered flesh if he had no skin anymore? Did he even have tendons or muscles underneath the stone? Was he powered by magic instead? Really should’ve paid more attention to Blinky’s troll anatomy classes.
Toby groaned, raking a hand through his hair, where it caught on two bumps. Those were horns, weren’t they? He muttered a curse, getting up on his feet. If he became a troll, why not go for the full package, right? He looked around, trying to figure out where he was. If he was submerged in water, then there had to be a stream around here, no? If there wasn’t, then that potion was as clueless as the old man that made it.
He heard a faint gurgle coming from behind him. Toby turned around and found the river. Okay, so the old wizard could be smart sometimes. Still didn’t count as a plus. He looked to the left of the river, seeing two boulders that formed a natural dam, letting only a trickle of water pass through. Which meant that the right side went in the direction of the canals, since those two rocks looked like the ones he would find in the next town over, and that place was east of Arcadia.
Toby walked over, peering into the river. A stranger stared back at him. Well, he had ginger hair alright, but it was longer than he was used to, and those horns he felt earlier? There were four of them, jutting out of the top of his head to the side almost like short antlers painted a dark red.
His ears stuck out from under his hair, twitching with every movement. He would never live down the Dumbo comments, that he knew. At least his nose and mouth seemed to be the same. Unless…
He grimaced gingerly at his reflection, fearing unaligned teeth that he’d used braces on for absolutely nothing. He blinked, the braces gone, but the pearly whites they’d been straightening were still that. Normal, human teeth. What was abnormal, though, were the tiny daggers stuck to each of his canines, where there had previously been little stubs of metal over the braces that used elastics to help accelerate the process. He poked at one experimentally with a finger. He pulled back just as quickly as the minuscule weapon scratched his stone skin. Toby’s eyebrows jumped into his hairline. This, this was so cool! And useful!
He looked down at himself, wondering if he got a tail or something. No extra appendages seemed to have formed, which he was a little miffed about, but he did find an anomaly. He turned over his hands, rolling up the strange sleeves he wore.
Alright, that was strange. Toby had expected to wake up mostly nude, but instead he was already clad in a strange gemstone-encrusted leather suit that was soft yet also rugged to the touch. He straightened his lapels, looking off to the side. Maybe the potion knew he was a duke and delivered the goods.
But unlike Blinky, ARRRGH or anyone from Trollmarket, he had no marks on his stone skin. Just smooth rock, similar to the quagawumps.
He wondered if Jim knew what caused trolls to have markings. Maybe Claire could figure it out if he didn’t, with her science skills. Then it dawned on him. He left his friends, now he was out in the middle of nowhere and they had no idea where he was. He needed to get back to them. He scrambled away from the river, walking back to Jim’s house, almost falling down with each step, getting used to his new legs.
Toby wouldn’t have entertained the notion that they were worried about him if he hadn’t seen the stricken look on Jim’s face when he took his place. His friends didn’t want him to sacrifice himself for the greater good, but he did. He wanted, for once, to be able to say that he helped. That he didn’t stand on the sidelines, not lifting a finger and being a nuisance.
Oh, he knew he helped. A lot. He was Jimbo’s best friend, moral adviser, and once kicked Strickler in the gronk-nuts. But was that enough to save the world? No. They lost so many, Draal, Vendel, It would never be enough, not unless he’d get a power up. Which he now has. Even if it is from that no-good pesky wizard that has way too many issues to work out.
If he dies in the battle, so be it. He would rather die to save the world than outlive his friends by staying safe.
“He should’ve been back by now,” Jim paced the living room for the hundredth time, his eyes straining to stay open, “The sun’s almost up, what if he hasn’t found a place to hide yet!”
“Jim, Toby’s gonna be fine,” Claire put a hand on his shoulder, snapping him out of his rambling. “He’s gonna come back, I promise.”
Maybe she was trying to convince herself too by saying that. Hope was dimming by the second, and the room temperature had begun dropping seconds after Toby’s disappearance in the bathtub. They’d called Nana, but she was adamant her boy would come home, and brought cookies for his return.
Jim’s heart broke seeing the absolute certainty Toby’s grandmother had about her grandson. It was almost surreal, her bright smile among the somber mood. She acted like he was just gone for a walk. Jim did not want to break the news to her if Toby didn’t come back, but that if was getting dangerously close to a when.
A knock. Jim almost jumped out of his skin. He looked over at Claire, who looked at him with a puzzled expression. His mom also frowned, a bit scared for her son. Jim was about to ask about it when another knock came from the front door. All heads turned at the sound this time apart from Nana Domzalski, who just sipped her tea with a smug expression.
Carefully, Jim took the few steps that separated him from the front door. His footsteps echoed loudly in the oppressing silence, hope smothering him like a serpent, ready to strike the moment he would open that door, elated heart of longing for a best friend, only to shatter once it was revealed to be nothing but an illusion, a disappointment.
Hand trembling, Jim felt sick to his core. Bile threatened to spill, his heart clenched in anticipation, his feet were glued to the floor. Slowly, he stretched out his hand to the doorknob, letting the cold metal steel himself, and turned it for what seemed like an eternity. With a creak he’d never heard before, the door opened. Jim held his breath as he saw the person on the other side. Well, not person, but not quite troll either-
“Tobes?”
“Miss me Jimbo? I know, my awesome-”
Jim cut him off with a hug so powerful Toby forgot to breathe. He was almost certain he broke at least some bones, including at least two ribs. But maybe it just felt like it. He hoped so. A fight against Gunmar while injured would certainly not go over well. He patted his best friend on the back. “Jim, I can’t breathe.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Jim untangled himself from Toby, giving his shoulder a good squeeze before they parted. He looked over him, taking stock of what was different. “You’re taller than me now!” he exclaimed.
“Wingmen have to look each other in the eye right?” Toby smiled, showing off the new shiny daggers on his teeth.
“Holy mother of-What are those?” Jim stepped back, caught off-guard. He leaned in closer to look at the blades, almost in awe. “Are those really-”
“Told you those orthodontist appointments weren’t for nothing.”
Fear had since dissolved, leaving nothing but laughter and hope in its place. The living room was abuzz with questions, Toby doing his best to answer them. From an unexpected twist of events, things were, strangely, lining up quite well, no one worried about what the future might hold, well, not for now, at least.
All for one…
The loud chatter of the Lake household did not reach Merlin’s ears. He knew they were there, ‘celebrating’ while he was looking out of the back window. He linked his arms behind his back. ‘This was not a victory’, he told himself, ‘it is merely a delay of a lost war.’ Breaking fate may seem alluring, but it may have disastrous consequences. There is no running away from destiny, it will rear its ugly head soon. Merlin cannot be wrong in his predictions. He has always been right, and the trollhunter should be the one to make things right. Not a lowly friend of his.
The wizard’s lips curled in a cruel smile. He shook his head slowly. They would not succeed, but it was too late to change sides for him. He would simply have to watch from the sidelines. His work was done, why should he help these pathetic mortals who dare offend him so? Mocking his abilities, his prize potion that took years of trying to copy Morgana’s work, with a few adjustments, they poured it down the drain!
And yet…the laughter reminded him of something. A simpler time, when he took care of a young apprentice, no more than a little boy, who was so eager to learn, and even more eager to please.
Merlin’s eyes twinkled for a fleeting moment before hardening again. He sighed. Was there hope after all, in his cracked and cold heart?