Arrangements
“Wait- Let me get this straight- So, you’re made of dirt?”
“I am made of clay! And not just any clay either. Us Claytrolls are made of a special clay, which combined with a good life source, gives us life.” The astonishment on Toby’s face made Angor somewhat proud of his origin.
The next question was stopped by the sound of the Trollmarket door opening, out of it, appeared the Trollhunter, the conundrum who was his trainer and the headmaster, Vendel. Instantly, any emotion he previously felt was exchanged for another wave of anxiety, now more aware, he breathed. The elder watched the ember-eyed troll, frowning deeply as he stared the other up and down. His glowing hearthstone staff echoed in the empty canal as he circled him.
“So… This is the infamous Angor Rot.” The name brought another ache to the troll’s chest, but he preferred not to speak. “You got your soul back and are willing to spare us. Very noble.”
There was clear disgust in the voice of the headmaster, not unexpectedly taking the history of the one in front of him. To Angor’s relief, Jim was the one who spoke in his defense. “It’s just Angor, Vendel. And can you put his soul back?”
Vendell hummed, his usual suspicious tone not very happy at the confrontation from the Trollhunter. Alas, he seemed to drown it and turned back to the troll assassin.
“Is the ring with you?” Angor showed it, Vendel gestured to take it from his hand and Angor hesitated, pulling it back and hiding it. “I need to see it and it’s incantation if you want me to find a solution.”
Uncomfortable as it made him, it made sense. So he resigned, carefully handing it over, doing what he could to make his shaking hand imperceptible.
The old troll was careful, knowing full well that getting on Angor's bad side, even if he was “better” would not be a good idea. He examined the ring, a careful watch which, under the clay troll’s glance, felt invading to say the absolute least. Yet, after long and painstaking minutes of careful examination, Vendell sighed.
And it wasn’t any sigh, it was one the trollhunters had never seen before.
One of defeat.
“When was this curse put on you?”
That question Angor didn’t expect, “I was… Maybe 2000, or around it.”
All the trolls surrounding them looked shocked. Blinky gasped with a pained look in his eyes, and Angor averted his gaze. The humans were a bit confused. After all, it seemed a reasonable age.
“What… Does that mean?” Jim cautioned.
Vendel did the work of explaining it. “Imagine a troll’s age is precisely a hundred times yours. He would've been simply a few years older than you when he was cursed to be without his soul. And that was…?”
“800 years ago…” He wished he had the courage to roll his eyes, but taken he had his soul in someone else's hands, he didn’t have the courage to seem disrespectful.
“Truly… That is a long time… And for an incantation, I seldom know…” The elder handed back the ring, which was quickly brought back to Angor’s possession. “I will look into it. However, I cannot promise I will be able to return your soul to your body. Curses like the one put on you… They are cryptic things unseen for more than a millennia.”
“So… I’ll be like this… For the rest of my days.”
“You might. But I might know some sources.” Vendel turned around, heading into Trollmarket. “Be careful with the ring for now. Whatever happens, let nothing happen to it.”
“And…” Angor interrupted, forcing the elder to look back once more. “What am I to do till then?”
“I’d say stay out of trouble. Enjoy your freedom.” Then the doors closed, tenseing the air outside.
Silence reigned for a moment, all unsure of the results. Angor held firmly to the ring, he could feel his soul in there, he could feel through it, but it wasn’t the same.
Aaarrrgh put a hand to the troll’s back gently, together with his wingman, in a gesture of sympathy. At that moment, Claire arrived, having snuck out again and rode her bike to them. One quick update later, she was in a similar state of disappointment, yet refused to disregard the hope in the old troll’s words.
“Well, he did say he MIGHT have a solution! So not all hope is lost!” She pointed out. “We just gotta give him some time right? He’s always done his best to help us! Even by carving the stones! If I came to know anything from Vendel he might be an old goat, but he is a great guy.”
Angor heard the words, wishing to believe her, yet his body tingled as he thought about the possibility of never properly feeling again, always feeling empty like that. He sighed, still with the defeat souring his tongue.
“Thank you for all your assistance, Trollhunters… But I assume you have better hunts than me now.” The assassin began to walk towards the other side of the canal.
“Hey! Wait up! Where’re you going?!” Toby chased after Angor, stopping him in his tracks.
“Well, I cannot stay here, and you have already answered the call I made. This, I shall leave you alone, much like I tried before.” Angor walked around the boy, trying to continue his way off. However, a heavy feeling in his pocket reminded him to stop once more. “Ah… And girl?” He tossed the shadow staff to her, which was caught quickly. “I see no need for it. If you do, then keep it.”
She looked up at him, feeling bad for him. She turned to the group, scanning and seeing that no one else had an idea fast enough, though, it only took one look at Aaarrrgh to give her one.
“I have an idea!” She stood in front of him. “You can stay at my place!”
Everyone turned confused at her, and Jim showed concern instantly. “Where did that come from??”
“Well! For one, he knows how to use the staff better than anyone else here! He can teach me!” That logic made sense, however, it didn’t make anyone any more confident. “Besides. How’s it fair that you both get to have protectors, but I got no one? What if something happens? What will Not-Henrique do? Slap them with a frying pan?”
Angor was the most baffled of them all, was it not the girl who had said it best to use his soul? Wasn’t it her who was distrusting of him? Why was she offering that specific solution now? It was way too suspicious.
“You want me… to live as your protector? And to teach you how to use the staff?”
“I mean, think about it. Are you gonna stay in the sewers where you can be ambushed by goblins? The changelings could be coming back for you, right? They know you’re out here, ring hanging around to be taken!” She pointed to his ring, and he instinctively brought his hand to it. “I don’t think the changelings would be stupid enough to try to get the ring from you when you’re in a civilian house with a small child inside and one of the Trollhunters in the other room. So. You get a safe place to stay with no strings attached, I get protection and a magic mentor!”
The plan sounded quite sound, but if it was that easy, Something in it didn’t feel right still, was it the girl’s aura or simply how fast she offered? It simply wasn’t right.
Though he didn’t have any better choices.
“Alright.” All turned to him even more confused. “I have no better option. And I suppose it can be mutualistic.”
Before anything could be said, Jim walked to Claire, taking her by the shoulders a little further from them. “Just one second-”
He didn’t fight them on it, turning his back and instead watching the greenery above the canal.
“Claire- Are you sure about this?? You were the one who- well- said we should use the ring!” Jim whispered, keeping a close eye on the troll behind them to make sure he didn’t hear it.
“What? Draal literally moved in with you just an hour after he tried to kill you too!” Claire was offended but matched the boy’s tone.
“It’s not about that! What if-” Jim lowers his voice even more, “What if he finds out that you wanted to use the ring?”
“You think I’d try to take it?!”
“What I am saying is! You’re always rushing into things as well as judging people rashly! So I’m just worried you’re walking into something you can’t walk out!” He was stern, sterner than he had ever been.
Claire was shocked at how angry he felt, though, once she stopped to think, he was right. She had judged him for being cautious with opening the bridge, she judged him for the pace of the stones and she threw herself into a lot of trouble. He is even in trouble with the council because of her. And also, she judged Angor without knowing his story, and it was true that she did not want to trust him and risk losing her chance at getting her brother back.
She had enough self-knowledge to know… She did mess up.
She sighed heavily. “You’re right. I am terrified… Of losing my baby brother… of never seeing him again. But that isn’t an excuse for how I’ve acted, so… I’m sorry, Jim. But I do think this is a good plan, and you gotta agree.”
“I do agree. But would he if he knew?” Jim gestured with his head towards Angor, who still kept an eye on the greenery and the streetlights, fascinated by them.
Claire watched, then thought for a moment, walking past Jim and towards the troll. He turned when he heard her footsteps. “Okay. Before you fully commit to wanting to stay with me, I guess I owe it to tell you…-”
“You wanted to use my soul to control me.” Angor interrupted, eyes continuing to be neutral towards her. She was stunned, taking a step back and holding tight to the staff. “I could hear it. You’re not good at whispering… But… I do not blame you.”
“Wait- really?!”
“You had no reason to know more about me, you also had not much time. In a situation like yours, I do not believe my actions wouldn’t have differed much.” He knelt down, still at a distance from her but now looking Claire in the eyes. “My only term of agreement now is, that you will not under any circumstance touch my ring without direct permission.”
His voice was not aggressive, it wasn’t a threat, but it was cold. Claire had no trouble with those terms, she had no interest in controlling him. So, she agreed. “It’s gonna feel like I’m not even there.”
There. Settled.
Back in the Nunez household, Claire climbed through her window again, into her room, beckoning Angor to follow. She could hear her parents talking downstairs, so she guided him to a trapdoor on the main hall's ceiling. “My dad has the basement as his workout room as well as mom’s office. So you can’t stay there. But no one goes into the attic. So, you’re perfectly hidden!”
Angor unlocked the door, opened it and climbed up. It was rather spacious, sure he had to bend down but for a human, it wasn’t terrible. Claire climbed up too, turning on a lamp. All around there were boxes, some rogue items thrown around, mostly baby items. The moment he stepped on it, the floors creaked.
“Oh… That might be an issue.”
“It won’t.” Angor took his knife, Claire flinching at the motion, and quietly yet swiftly carving symbols into the wooden floor. One incantation later, when he walked, his steps were silent. “Done. This place will do.”
“That’s awesome. Teach me that too?” He turned to her, seeing again that shine of curiosity in her eyes.
“Maybe.” He sat down on one of the empty corners, avoiding looking at the girl, instead taking an unfinished totem. “Thank you for offering this place.”
“It’s the least I can do after you gave back the stones that we needed to save my brother.” She stood there awkwardly for a moment. “Well. I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything, tap on my window.”
She walked out, leaving the once-assassin to his thoughts. Laying back down, the wooden floor was softer than the stone he once used as resting ground. The wooden ceiling was also a lot different from what he was used to, though, looking closely, it got his attention. Little glass orbs on a string, he knew now as “led”s, were stretched out on little hooks.
It piqued his curiosity.
Going by what he saw Strickler doing, he found the end of the lights, plugging it in a hole in the wall he found matched the pins. The lights came alive, shining in hues of blue and yellow, lighting in a smooth breathing manner. He watched, amazed, the little lights, almost pixie-like. He understood they weren’t alive, that it was a trick of human crafters, but it was still… Pretty.
Angor would never dare sleep, not if he could help it. But he could, in retrospect, watch the lights for a little.
They seemed to be soothing enough.
