Chapter Text
Thousands of years ago, in a small tree surrounded by flora and fauna, the first troll was discovered by demons. She was a tiny speck of stardust that was found cheerfully dancing to the melody of summer breeze, enjoying the warmth of the sun without realizing her life was in danger. She was gone in a flash, and the only proof that she ever existed was the disturbed leaves rustling as the demons consumed her soul and dragged her body down into the Underworld. That was when they got their first taste of troll happiness, and the demons found that they couldn’t get enough.
Finding more of her kind — all naive enough to let them in — was like hitting the jackpot. Their endless pursuit for food was now over. However, they knew the fun could only last for so long. So as the barrier between their worlds weakened and the trolls grew cautious, more demons took the opportunity to come up and hunt for their next meal instead of waiting for Gwi-Ma to be generous and allocate the souls available.
Their first victims were the Pop trolls, who were by far, the easiest to capture. Their happy little selves didn’t even realize their souls were being taken until their bodies faded away into nothing. Next, came the funk trolls, followed by the classical trolls, and every other in between. The rock trolls put up a fight, but eventually, even they succumbed to the demons.
The process of being drained from your soul was excruciatingly painful. Some demons would do it quickly — take your life’s essence with a single inhale and drop your lifeless body into the pit of hell — while others learned to savor the torment. It became somewhat of a trend amongst demons: Who could make the process unbearable?
First, they would appear in dreams; figments of nightmares that haunted their victim even when they were awake. This weakened their ability to think rationally. It made them paranoid to go outside. Next, the demons would lurk in the shadows of the prey’s home, taking over the sanctuary that they could no longer find solace in. It was a tactic, something to drain their mental stability to a drought. This left them weak and vulnerable, so weak that when they finally met face to face, the troll would beg to be put out of its misery.
Gwi-Ma found this hilarious. Sadistic and cruel was his nature. His entire being feasted on souls, and as the ruler of the underworld, he enjoyed watching his minions torment the once happiest creatures on earth. No one knew how he came to be, or what could destroy him. His face became the terror that traumatized trolls with one glance. Hope was lost. Bodies buried. No one wanted to sing anymore.
Despair is a lonely companion, no hero can withstand the agony it brings; but in moments of desperation, heroes will always emerge against all odds.
From the depths of darkness, light sparked. In the most unexpected form of hope, from the tribes — who had a history of war and colonialism with each other — rose a group of warriors with voices powerful enough to drive Gwi-Ma and his demons away. Three souls — voices strong. They began to fight demons with the one thing they can not escape; a song. They sang songs of courage and love, bravely taking on battles that no one else did. Their voices brought out the light in others, instilling the need to sing along.
They were known as the hunters, and soon enough their praise manifested into a new era; one full of peace and prosperity. The Honmoon, a barrier sustained by truth and justice, was created, and it served only one purpose: to keep demons away from this world.
However, their voices could only last for so long. The Honmoon weakened when the Hunters left, leaving their legacy in danger. Because of this, their harmony set forwards a path that would become a generational duty.
Every generation, a new set of hunters would be trained. A trio — a harmony — will learn the art of being a Demon Hunter in order to maintain order and keep Gwi-Ma and his demons away. To protect the Honmoon is their only concern. If someone threatens it, the hunters have to deal with them accordingly, no matter what.
Even if it’s one of their own.