Without magic, the trolls must have lost more than just power—they lost their place in the world.
And yet, the trolls still held on to this ridiculous idea of peace?
"That's stupid," I muttered.
Talia's head snapped toward me, her amber eyes narrowing. "Excuse me?"
I met her gaze, unflinching. "You were strong. You had magic. You had power. And you just let the humans walk all over you?"
Her jaw tightened, but she didn't immediately argue.
Instead, she exhaled slowly, as if she had heard this before.
"We didn't just roll over," she said, her voice even. "We fought back. We tried to reclaim what was ours."
I scoffed. "And?"
"And every time we struck, the humans came back stronger."
She stopped walking for a moment, looking up at the dark canopy above us. The thick branches swayed, rustling with the wind.
"It was almost like our resistance fueled them," she continued, voice quieter now. "Every battle we won, they returned with better weapons. New tactics. Stronger warriors. We were fighting a war we didn't realize we were already losing."
I frowned. "So you just gave up?"
Talia didn't answer right away.
I took a step closer, eyes locked onto hers. "Are you even fighting now?"
Still, silence.
I let out a sharp breath. "The magic was yours. You wielded it. They stole it. And you're just... letting them keep it?"
Her expression darkened. "We sought peace, not bloodshed."
I scoffed. "And look where that got you."
Talia's jaw tightened, her fists curling at her sides. "Not every battle is fought with violence, Sylas."
I narrowed my eyes. "No, but some battles have to be."
She flinched, just slightly.
"Humans aren't going to wake up one day, feel bad, and give you your power back." I took another step, voice low and sharp. "If you want it, you have to take it."
Talia's lips pressed into a thin line. She didn't argue. Didn't lash out.
Because she knew there was truth to what I was saying.
But bound to custom,
She let out a slow sigh.
"That is not our way."
I shook my head. Naïve. That's what she was.
That's what all of them were.
I had been human once.
I knew their greed, their hunger for control.
The idea that they'd ever let trolls live in harmony was laughable.
But Talia wasn't done.
"You know," she said slowly, her gaze flickering toward the dark canopy above, "there's an old rumor. A prophecy."
I groaned. "Oh, great. A prophecy."
Talia ignored my sarcasm, and her voice took on a hushed, almost reverent tone.
"The prophecy speaks of a chosen one. A troll who will restore our lost power and lead us down the right path."
I exhaled sharply. Here we go again.
"Let me guess," I muttered. "The 'right path' means peace."
"Of course."
I rolled my eyes. "Then the prophecy's garbage."
Talia shot me a sharp look. "You're only speaking out of naivety."
Naivety? Me?
I almost laughed. The trolls were the naïve ones—clinging to peace when the humans had already proven they'd never allow it.
But before I could argue, the group came to a sudden halt.
I looked around wondering what was going on.
"We have arrived."
Talia stepped forward, her voice calm but firm.
I frowned, glancing around. "Arrived where?"
There was nothing here.
No village. No fortress. Just endless trees and dense foliage. If this was some kind of joke, or a ploy to murder me then it wasn't funny.
Talia didn't answer. Instead, she lifted her hand, her fingers curling slightly as if grasping something unseen.
"Only two kinds of trolls can use magic now," she said, her voice quieter, almost reverent.
I watched as the pendant hanging from her tribal chain began to glow—a soft, eerie blue.
Then her fingertips shimmered with the same strange light, and the air in front of us rippled like disturbed water.
Magic.
I felt a chill run down my spine.
"A shaman..." she continued, her eyes locked on the shifting air. "Or a troll with a magical artifact."
My eyes widened with amusement, like a kid seeing fireworks for the first time.
So, Talia was the latter—a troll with a magical artifact.
Cool.
But that wasn't what left me speechless.
It was the beautiful sight.
Before my eyes, the very air rippled and peeled away like a veil being lifted.
The dense forest, which I had been convinced was just trees and undergrowth, vanished.
And in its place…
A massive stone archway loomed ahead, ancient runes glowing faintly along its surface. Beyond it lay a hidden passage—a gateway leading into the trolls' settlement.
Talia didn't hesitate. She stepped forward, passing through effortlessly. The barrier shimmered behind her, closing like water sealing over a stone.
Then, one by one, the rest of the trolls followed.
They didn't stop to admire the sight.
No gasps of wonder. No hesitation.
This was normal to them.
But to me? This was anything but normal.
She had used magic. Real magic.
I wasn't sure why it hit me so hard, but seeing it—not in a book, not as a fantasy, but right in front of me—sent a thrill through my body.
Something deep inside me stirred.
My fingers twitched. My breath quickened.
My muscles tensed with an unfamiliar hunger.
I wanted to reach out. To feel it. To wield it.
I wanted it.
I desired it.
And if the trolls weren't going to take back their lost power…
Maybe I would.