The morning sun spilled over the river, turning its ripples into shards of gold. The fire had burned down to embers, thin threads of smoke curling lazily upward. Jideon sat on a log, spear resting across his knees, scanning the opposite bank as if the night had never ended.
"Young lord, you're up early," he said without looking away.
"Couldn't sleep much," I replied, stretching to loosen the stiffness in my shoulders. The unease from last night still clung to me like a damp cloak.
Gareth stirred under his blanket and muttered, "Five more minutes."
"If you're going to lie, at least do it better. You spent the whole night snoring like a bear trying to cough up a frozen car engine. GRRRHHH–KHHHRRR–VVRRMMM– sputter sputter!"
We ate breakfast in silence, dry rations and lukewarm water. My mind wasn't on the food. The treeline across the river waited in quiet patience. That was where the sound had come from.
"I'm crossing," I said, standing up.
Jideon frowned but didn't question it. "I'll come with you."
I took two steps, half-expecting Gareth to say something, but he kept eating. I stopped. "Gareth?"
"Yes, young lord?" He tilted his head slightly.
"You're not coming?"
"I thought someone should stay and keep an eye on the horses," he said shamelessly.
"This time… that's actually a good reason. But I'm making a note of it. I'll make sure you get more work later."
I could see his nostrils flare. No doubt he thought he'd scored a chance to slack off. Too bad for you, Gareth, my eyes are trained to spot laziness.
"They say it takes one to know one," Mnex chimed in.
Never heard that before.
"Yes, because I just said it for the first time."
We crossed at a narrow bend where the current was slower, our boots slipping on slick stones. Beneath the pine trees the air was colder, the ground softened by a carpet of needles.
It didn't take long to find it, a deep, wide depression in the damp soil, the tips spread too far apart to be human. Jideon crouched beside it, running his hand along the edge.
"Troll," he murmured.
I crouched as well, though my eyes were drawn to a nearby thicket. A few low bushes had blackened, their leaves curled inward as if suddenly scorched. The scent was faint but not from an ordinary fire, there was a sharpness to it, the kind that spoke of magic.
I glanced at Jideon. "Tell me, do trolls breathe fire now?"
He slowly shook his head. "Not unless the old tales left something out."
"Trolls only use fire when they're making human kebabs," Mnex cut in cheerfully. "And guess who's the most likely kebab here?"
The unease in my chest slid down my spine like a thin thread of cold sweat despite the chill in the air.
While Jideon studied the scorch marks, I scanned the forest floor. Pine needles cushioned our steps as we followed the troll's trail. Some prints were burned into the soil, edges black and still faintly smoking. Others were just heavy imprints, snapping branches and scattering fresh green leaves. The inconsistency made no sense, like two different creatures had walked the same path.
After a while, the tracks began to thin. First the gaps between steps grew longer, then they vanished entirely.
"They end here," Jideon said, pointing to where his foot rested.
My attention shifted to the bushes a little further ahead. There were burn marks there as well, but this time they were scattered, uneven, like someone had tried to hide their trail but kept leaving tiny clues behind.
"This isn't normal," Mnex said, his tone suddenly serious. "The heat is low, but no troll should leave marks like this. It could be a fire fueled by mana. As far as I know, trolls can't use magic."
"So we're talking about something that's both a troll and a magic user," I whispered to myself.
We moved on in silence. The air felt heavier now, and even the forest's constant hum seemed to retreat. Then a faint sound cut through it, like metal scraping against stone.
"You heard that?" I asked.
Jideon nodded, tightening his grip on the spear.
I pressed my hands to the ground and sent out another pulse. The wave rolled through the trees and faded. Still nothing.
Following the trail brought us to a small clearing. In the center lay a rabbit, almost completely charred, a thin wisp of smoke still curling from its body. The smell of burnt meat mingled with the sharp tang of the scorch marks.
Right beside it, half-buried in the soil, was a stone etched with symbols I didn't recognize. I bent down to touch it, only to hear a faint whisper behind me.
I turned. No one was there.
"That wasn't me," Mnex said, his voice stripped of its usual humor.
You heard it too?
He sighed. "If I hadn't, why would I bother saying it wasn't me? Try using more than one neuron and focus."
Maybe the trolls in this world weren't the same as the ones I'd read about in old stories back on Earth. The thought sat in my gut like a cold stone.
"Jideon," I said, my voice heavy with intent, "can trolls use magic? Are they intelligent?"
At my question, Jideon fell silent. He tapped the butt of his spear against the ground, as if buying time to choose his words.
"In the old tales," he said at last, "trolls know nothing beyond brute strength. Slow, clumsy, easy to trick… But some stories speak of an ancient kind living in the shadows of the northern mountains. They called them Frieri. Said to be craftier than the rest… but never once have I heard of them using magic."
"Then what do these tracks mean…?"
"I don't know," he admitted, frowning. "Either this isn't really a troll… or it's a kind we've never seen before."
Mnex let out a low, derisive hum. "And 'something else' usually means you're about to regret being here."
I ignored him, circling the clearing slowly. The smell of the rabbit lingered in the air. Beneath my boots, patches of soil felt loose, as if someone had carefully dug and covered them again. I crouched to inspect the stone once more. The markings looked nothing like any rune I'd seen before.
"I wouldn't mess with that stone," Mnex warned, his tone still serious. "Some seals latch onto you the moment you touch them."
What kind of seals?
"My access to the multiverse archives is restricted, but I remember a few things. Old records I'm not allowed to explain, because they're tied to neither this world nor the one you came from. They bind body and mana at once. One could catch you both physically and spiritually."
I stepped back from the stone, scanning the trees again. That's when I heard it, a faint rustle of leaves, followed by a slow, deliberate footstep.
Jideon and I locked eyes. He raised his spear; I gathered a spark of flame in my palm.
The footsteps drew closer, pausing, then starting again, as if the thing was controlling how much noise it made.
A shadow emerged between the trees. First I saw the upper shoulders, far broader than any human's. Then the head, or something shaped like one. The skull was flat and wide, the skin a stony gray, deep cracks running just above the nose.
The eyes… I didn't like the eyes. Yellow, almost golden, but with thin black veins constantly swirling inside. When they locked onto us, a cold pressure gripped the base of my spine.
"There's magic on it," Mnex said quietly. "But there's something else here besides a troll."
The troll, or whatever it was, took another step, crushing the ground near the scorch marks. Its breath came out smoky, not from the cold, but from a thin layer of soot slipping between its lips with every exhale.
Jideon edged his spear forward. "Stay back," he warned, his voice taut.
The creature stopped, tilting its head. Then its lips pulled back into something like a smile, human in shape, alien in meaning.
That's when a piercing whisper struck my ears from both ahead and behind. I couldn't understand the words, but they rang inside my skull.
I stepped back on instinct, the flame in my palm swelling.
The creature's yellow eyes narrowed to black, and instead of smoke, a thin tongue of fire slipped from its mouth.
Mnex's voice carried no trace of mockery. "Run."