Trollmarket's caverns cast long shadows as we made our way back from the Hero's Forge. Blinky walked ahead, his multiple hands clasped behind his back jittering nervously despite his attempts to maintain composure. Toby trudged beside me, his face pale enough that I could see it even in the vibrant blue light.
"Master Tobias," Blinky said, his voice tight with forced cheerfulness, "the challenge is certainly... an opportunity for growth."
Toby let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a whimper. "Yeah. Growing a coffin."
I looked at them but stayed quiet, the easiest method to get the rest of the trolls to accept a human Trollhunter was to beat Draal in front of everyone. Once they saw Toby could hold his own, we'd have the leverage we needed to stand against Gunmar. Draal's ego could be key. The troll was powerful but he seemed like someone who'd never lost before and seeing him look at toby with his arrogant expression, I could tell he would probably leave at least one opening.
The problem was making sure Toby survived long enough to exploit them.
"Dead meat," Toby muttered under his breath as we climbed back toward the surface. "I'm going to be dead meat in just a few hours."
I kept my face neutral, maintaining a calm expression, the last thing Toby needed was to see me worried. "You'll be fine."
"Jim, the guy's built like a boulder with anger issues. I'm built like... like a bowling pin."
"A bowling pin that has magic armor and a sword that cuts through stone."
He wasn't wrong but, I had all night to figure out how to keep him alive.
Returning to Arcadia Oaks High the next morning felt a little surreal, like stepping between two different worlds. Around me, students complained about homework completely oblivious.
Just another day.
we were headed to my locker to grab my books for the next class, I made an attempt to run through a potential scenario where Toby could win in my head, a force touched down on my shoulder.
Claire appeared beside us with that bright smile that made thinking significantly harder.
"Morning, you two!" She glanced between me and Toby, and her smile faltered. "Okay, what's wrong? You both look like you've seen a ghost."
Toby's mouth opened, and I could practically see the words 'my best friend is making me fight a troll tomorrow' forming on his lips.
"Just stressed about a project," I cut in quickly, giving her a half-smile. "Big presentation coming up."
Claire's eyes narrowed slightly. She knew I was lying, I could see it in the way she tilted her head, studying my face. "Okay," with a small smile "Lets Head to lunch after class alright" I nodded and headed away from Toby, I preferred if Claire got to live her life rather than fight magicians and Trolls despite her strength.
Lunch period brought our welcome distraction. Claire slid into the seat across from me, pulling out a stack of papers that was significantly thicker than any homework we had to do.
"Got you the full script," she said, sliding it across the table with a grin. "Being the favorite for the director has its perks."
I picked it up, flipping through the pages. "Romeo and Juliet, the complete tragedy." I read allowed "Just what I needed, more dramatic death scenes."
"You nailed the audition, so now you get to nail the performance." She leaned forward, eyes bright with excitement. "We should start planning our interpretation. I'm thinking we play up the impulsiveness, you know, these are two kids making terrible decisions, not some grand romance."
"Sounds like teenagers in general."
She laughed. "Exactly! So for the balcony scene—"
"Well, well. Lake and Nuñez, sitting in a tree."
I didn't even need to look up to recognize Steve's voice, I feel like this will become a pattern with this guy. Dripping with that particular brand of jock smugness, he stood, at the entrance to the cafeteria with his crew flanking him arms crossed and wearing a grin that promised violence.
"After school," Steve announced, loud enough for half the cafeteria to hear. "Behind the gym. You and me, Lake. Time to see if you're all talk."
The cafeteria went quiet, when everyone sensed drama. I could feel eyes turning toward our table.
Claire stood up so fast her chair scraped against the floor. "Get a life, Steve."
She grabbed both me and Toby, practically dragging us out of the cafeteria before Steve could respond. Once we were in the hallway, she whirled on me, frustration blazing in her eyes.
"You don't have to prove anything to him. Just ignore it."
I gave her a half-smile. "It's alright, Claire. This is just how boys talk."
"Jim—"
"I'm not fighting for pride or anything," I said, keeping my voice level. "Besides, it's better to deal with this now rather than later."
Steve needed to learn his place before he became a D1 hinderance. The bell rang, cutting off whatever she was about to say. She stepped closer, her expression somewhere between anger and worry.
"Stay safe. And don't let him provoke you, or I'll have to teach you a lesson too."
Then she was gone, swept up in the tide of students heading to class.
The final bell of the day rang across the halls. I walked toward the gym, backpack slung over my shoulders, while Toby followed behind muttering about how this was a terrible idea.
"You could just not show up," he tried. "That's a valid strategy. Very underutilized in modern conflict resolution."
"And deal with Steve's crap for the rest of the year? No thanks."
"But if you die, you won't have to deal with anything for the rest of the year. is that your silver lining?"
I was about to respond when I spotted Claire ahead, leaning against the gym wall with her arms crossed. When she saw us, she pushed off and fell into step beside me.
"I'm not leaving you alone with those Neanderthals," she said firmly.
"Claire—"
"Don't 'Claire' me. I'm staying."
I sighed and opened the gymnasium double doors, heading out the exit behind the gym, Steve was already waiting, cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders like he was preparing for the UFC. His crew formed a loose circle, phones out and ready to record what they clearly expected to be my humiliation.
I set my backpack down carefully. Steve was bigger than me, significantly bigger. I had technique from the real Jim, sure, but in a real fight, size mattered. This wasn't like evading Bular where I was just staying out of reach and retreating. Steve was going to close the distance, and when he did, I'd need to make every move count.
"Ready to get wrecked, Lake?" Steve grinned, bouncing on his feet.
I didn't bother responding. I just watched his stance, his weight distribution, looking for tells.
He came at me fast, throwing a heavy right hook aimed at my face. I ducked under it, feeling the air whoosh over my head, and stepped to the side. His momentum carried him past me, and I landed a quick jab to his ribs— probing for weak spots.
Steve grunted, spinning faster than I expected. His backhand caught me across the shoulder, and suddenly I was stumbling, my footing compromised. He pressed the advantage, throwing a combination that forced me back.
I blocked the first two hits, but the third—a body shot—got through. Pain exploded across my ribs.
Okay. He's faster than he looks.
We circled each other, both breathing hard already. Steve feinted left, then came right. I saw it coming, sidestepped, and drove my elbow down toward his exposed back. He twisted at the last second, taking it on the shoulder instead, then grabbed my arm.
For a terrifying moment, I was caught. Steve outweighed me by a bare minimum of forty pounds, and he used every bit of it, yanking me forward and off balance. His knee came up—
I turned my hip, taking the blow on my thigh instead of my gut. Still hurt like hell, but it gave me an opening. I drove my palm up under his chin, snapping his head back, then swept his leg when his weight shifted.
Steve went down hard. His crew let out a collective gasp.
But he rolled, faster than a guy his size had any right to be, and was back on his feet before I could press the advantage. Blood trickled from his nose, making him look even more furious.
"Lucky shot," he snarled.
"Sure. Lucky."
The fight only devolved from there, much less technique, We traded blows in a messy exchange, that left both of us bleeding and breathing hard. Steve caught me with a solid hit to the jaw that made my vision spark. I responded with a knee to his thigh that made him stumble.
It was brutal. Exhausting. And I—I somehow, in the middle of it all, I had a revelation.
This was what Toby would face tomorrow. Real combat, messy, painful, where one mistake could end everything and you couldn't plan perfectly in advance. If I was going to teach him anything before facing Draal, it had to be to forget honor, forget fair play. Win by any means necessary.
I was kneeling on on ground after a quick exchange of punches.
Steve lunged again, overextending. I saw my opening, the same weak spot I'd been working toward this entire fight. I drove my fist into his diaphragm, right below the ribcage.
The air left Steve's lungs in a whoosh. He dropped to his knees, gasping like a fish.
I staggered back, my own body screaming in protest. My knuckles were actually bleeding, and my lower lip was split, and I was pretty sure tomorrow I'd be purple from rib to shoulder.
Steve looked up at me, still wheezing, and then, to my surprise, he laughed. It was a bitter, breathless sound.
I couldn't help letting out a provocating grin.
"Didn't think... you had that... in you, Lake."
I wiped blood from my nose, grinning faintly despite the pain. "Guess you're not all talk either, Palchuk."
We went quite for a moment, I guess I had a bit of respect for the brute, apparently, he actually knew how to fight.
Then Claire looking exacerbated at how long the fight was going was there, storming into the circle with fury blazing in her eyes.
"You're both idiots!" She grabbed my arm, checking my face with hands that shook slightly. "Complete and utter idiots."
I had to drop down to the floor, I was already heaving the air through my body, standing didn't help.
Toby tried to help me back up, but I hissed in pain when his hand hit a fresh bruise, and he jumped back apologetically.
Claire's anger softened into worry as she studied my face. "Are you okay?"
I looked at her concerned expression and I couldn't resist. Pressing the back of my hand to my forehead, I declared, "Thus with a kiss... I die." Then I let my body go limp, dangling from her supporting arm.
"Oh my god." She rolled her eyes, but I caught the slight flush on her cheeks. "You're ridiculous."
"That is how Romeo goes right?" I chuckled
"Romeo was poisoned, not beaten up behind a gym."
"Artistic interpretation."
Seemingly despite herself, she smiled.
Steve was helped up by one of his buddies and he looked back in my direction. With a nod he left...
Walking home with Toby that evening, I could feel every bruise forming across my body. I could walk now at least. Toby seemed to be spiraling again though after witnessing the fight, muttering about the duel with Draal, his panic rising with every step.
"Jim, I'm not sure I can do this. Your whole body, that's going to be my face—"
"You'll have an edge Draal won't see coming," I interrupted.
"What edge? A prayer? A head start to run away?"
"Knowledge." I stopped, turning to face him. "Draal is powerful, and might have more technique but he's predictable. And I'm going to teach you exactly how to beat him."
Toby blinked. "You... you are?"
"My garage. Bring snacks—we're going to be there a while."
"Alright, I'm trusting you buddy."
Later that night, alone in my garage, I spread out papers for blueprints across my workbench. most were some practical things I knew I'd need in the coming months, transport, a generator, and basic weapon that maybe could affect a troll. Others were more experimental, ideas that might not even be possible with regular materials.
But with troll metallurgy? With the resources of Trollmarket?
I made out a few chemical compounds that could potentially work maybe, if I could get my hands on the right materials, I could make something to counter Changelings magic. Or even recreate it, but before I get ahead of myself, I had to learn first.
My hand cramped, bruised knuckles protesting the movement. I flexed my fingers, staring at the purple marks spreading across my skin.
"One fight down," I murmured to the empty garage. "One to go."