"There are mistakes in all that we do, which is why we must learn from them."

"Tyl-er-Esmerion, how long ago did you regain your memories?"

The youth grimaces slightly, running a hand through his bronze hair to calm himself. "The incident with the Pixies. Nasty little buggers."

Jim frowns at him but agrees nonetheless. They had all hated the experience and wish it were easy to forget. Even if Angor Rot had not been involved, the Pixies were a literal nightmare.

"And how-" he gestures wildly to the scorch marks and flattened wreckage of market stalls, "-did you manage this?"

Esmerion chuckles quietly, pulling the cloak further over his shoulders. Most of the inhabitants make a mad dash to get out of the way as he wanders the street of Trollmarket with Jim, though he can feel the burning gaze of those that they pass. It doesn't bother him much, it just makes this conversation a little less private.

"Perhaps that is a question to be answered elsewhere," he eyes a particularly unbothered Troll standing too close for any real comfort. "Do you mind?"

"Whatever," says the Troll and he wanders away.

"Look, Jim, me point is that I can't discuss this out 'ere," he bumps the boy's shoulder lightly. "I need somewhere with a sense of security."

Jim smiles weakly, only for it to fall moments later. The dull look is back in his eyes and any mask of pleasantness has slipped from his grasp. His mind is not in the moment, nor is it within the area of their traversing.

"Jim?" Esmerion stops his light playfulness to carefully examine the boy. He tilts his head slightly and places a hand on his arm, sympathy reflecting in his eyes. "Oh, Jim. She'll do well, y'know? If she can take down a Troll as strong as Draal with nothing but a bottle o' perfume, she can make it through this."

The young Trollhunter nods, eyes downcast and dark. It's not difficult to see his distress, nor is it hard to sense his growing turmoil.

"Come 'ere," he offers, pulling his friend into a hug. He rests his chin on the head of the boy, allowing himself to become a place of comfort. "We'll go see her, yeah? We'll go an' see her."

《《》》

"Kanjigar warned me about this," Jim says sullenly. "Trollhunters shouldn't have personal connections."

This earns him a gentle squeeze from his foster-brother, who stands with his arms around the boy's middle. He doesn't particularly care about how his position might be perceived, so long as he provides some sort of comfort.

Both Esmerion and Blinky-who he had learnt the name of only moments ago-scoff quietly at the claim.

"Yes, and forgive me for disagreeing, but Kanjigar was wrong." The Troll shakes his head, placing two of his hands on his shoulders. "If there's one thing I've learned in my time as a member of your species, Master Jim, it's that the human bond, your love for each other is your greatest strength."

"He's right," the bronze-haired boy comments softly. "Human bonds, parental or otherwise, can be much stronger than anythin' ye know. Love is the greatest weapon an' the strongest defense."

Blinky nods in agreement, hiding his unease well. "No matter what magic Vendel is able to work, make no mistake, it will ultimately be the love you share with her, that will see her through."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better."

Esmerion gently nudges Jim, resting his head on the boy's shoulder. "Of course he is. But trust me when I say it's true."

He makes a small sound of resistance as his foster-brother blows into his ear, trying to escape the clutches of someone so much taller than him. It doesn't work, and a pathetic snort of repressed laughter leaves him. At least he's a little cheered up now.

"Go an' see yer mother, Jim." He unwinds himself from the boy, freeing him to do as he wishes. "I'll be along in moment."

"You sure?" An almost innocent sounding question if the teen hadn't already seen what were possible when his sib is left to his own devices.

He nods, standing tall alongside the Conundrum Troll. His hands fill the pockets of his torn trousers while he cozies into his borrowed cloak. But while he wears a neutral expression, his eyes display his true concern and fear.

"I 'ave a few thin's to share with Blinkous," he claims, glancing over at the six-eyed Troll. "Nothin' to be worried 'bout."

Jim frowns but goes on anyways, brushing aside any suspicions or thoughts of distrust. It's his brother and Blinky, it's not like they're plotting to take over the world.

After watching the boy silently for a few moments, Esmerion addresses his current companion. "It's been a long time since I last saw a Heartstone."

Blinky starts, staring at him in confusion.

"I might 'ave been a wee lad at the time," he chuckles softly, though there's something bittersweet about his tone. "Can't be so sure though."

The Troll stops his staring and clears his throat, making himself the fool. "That's impossible. I-I don't see why you're poking fun at me during such momentous events."

A brief sidelong glance at Esmerion finds that he bares no telltale signs of jest. His arms are crossed weakly as he leans against a crystal and his eyes do not flicker with amusement.

"But that simply cannot be true," he rambles animatedly, waving his four arms about. "That would make you...over one thousand years of age! Humans rarely reach a century, and even then you retain every trait of childhood. There is no possible way for you to have lived so long."

The youth raises a brow, unaffected by the continuous spew of information. But this catches the fleeting attention of the librarian.

"Unless..." he starts up again, counting numerous possibilities on his fingers. "If you have access to a philosopher's stone, or maybe unicorn blood-but they died out decades ago-perhaps some sort of Arthurian talisman. But no, you would look like Miracle Max even if you were to use them."

Blinky lets out a short laugh of apparent amusement. He shakes his head and wrings his hands together as he forces the thought from his mind, though it remains to plague him. Sweat rolls down his forehead.

"The last philosopher's stone was shattered centuries ago an' all the Arthurian talismans were locked in London's great vault," Esmerion comments softly. "I'm not tellin' ye a lie, Blinkous. I remember Camelot."

In the corner of his eye, he can see the Troll stiffen. His short mane stands on end and each of his eyes are open wide. It might be amusing if the situation were different.

"It's where I met Draal," he snorts at the memory. "Speakin' of, no-one 'as gone down to the Lake house, 'ave they?"

Though his feathers are rather ruffled, Blinky forcibly reminds himself to breathe. "Not as of yet."

He hums quietly, wincing when he bites his very tender lip. "Might wanna get someone to go over. Draal's probably still stuck in that encirclement trap."

"How might you have possibly come to know Draal?"

Esmerion shrugs lightly, pushing off the crystal to join Jim. "Ask 'im yerself once he stops his little fit."

Blinkous stares at him for a moment longer before promptly turning on his heel and striding down the passageway. He needs to do some research himself. He needs to figure out this conundrum.