"Fight or flight. Truly, when does one take flight without once engaging in the fight first?"

Kanjigar, admittedly, had never once approved of his son's involvement with the older male. He was one of the many who thought it was taboo for such a partnership to even exist. But with the current situation, and the conjurer, shifter, or whatever he calls himself now, being so intertwined with the fate of Trollmarket, he cannot dare to think of refusing to assist the creature.

"Kanjigar." Blinkous stops the former Trollhunter as the group scrambled on to the Gyre. "Why don't you simply talk with Vendel and the Tribunal? Surely one of Trollmarket's greatest champions could persuade--"

"Talking requires time, Blinkous," Kanjigar reminds him sternly, ushering him into the Gyre. "Something we do not have."

Images of the young Trollhunter burn in his borrowed mind, each one both different and worse than the last. One is of him crying out for mercy as a shadow corners him. Another is of him screaming as a blade pierces his chest. But it is not those possibilities that horrify him the most. It is the ones where the creature, Merlin's aid, Esmerion, is on his knees, eyes white and flesh blacker than the Eclipse, his own soul tearing him apart. It is the one in which he is nothing but a monster, rabid and pacing, right up until the moment Gunmar releases him from his cage. It is the one that he frees himself, running through endless tunnels until he stumbles upon the young Trollhunter's battle and preys on the weaker of the two--

Kanjigar clears his head with a firm shake, taking the controls in his hands. "Things are dire. If we do not act now, James Lake Junior will die. And Merlin's Watcher will roam wild."

Draal's eyes widen behind him, maw parting in horror at the news. The remainder of the group share a collective gasp of utter horror, panic filling their eyes as they look to each other for some form of comfort. They only share the very same emotion of panic, not the same cause for it.

As Kanjigar reaches for the final lever, a protesting caw echoes through the tunnel, and the rustling of feathers fills his ears. An obsidian streak flies past his head and he spins to acknowledge this new variable. To his surprise, it is but a ruffled raven, an avian that now settles itself upon Draal's knee. It gives him a piercing look, one that dares the former Trollhunter to do something about its appearance.

"Munnin," Draal greets, indifferent to the raven's arrival.

Kanjigar shakes his head and returns to the controls. Behind him, Munnin settles into the firm stone hands that hold him. He croaks once with slight unease, and then the tunnel echoes with a stomach-lurching crack, the Gyre having disappeared down the track.

《《》》

'Scritch, scritch.'

'Scritch, scritch, scritch.'

Jim frowns deeply, a scowl etching into his features as the sound repeats. It's been the same for what must have been an hour. The sound of stone scratching on stone, of drawing perhaps.

"Nomura, what are you doing?"

The sound pauses at his words, before starting again as though nothing had happened.

An acid green eye appears in the hole between his cell and her's, narrowed with frayed patience. But something haunts her, he can see quite well, a frozen image scorched into her retinas. It's blurred, and not at all clear, but he can see that a memory is there.

"In case you hadn't noticed, Little Gynt, there's not all that much to do in this wretched cell," she growls, her ears flattening. "I'm doing exactly what I can: nothing."

The Trollhunter stands from the ground, caution on his features as he warily approaches the hole in the wall. "So if that's not you," he speaks in a hushed voice, "who is it?"

And it's then that he realises that she knows. That Nomura knows exactly who it is.

Because she freezes entirely and meets his eyes with fear. No, she meets his eyes with terror.

"Nomura," Jim beckons, his own patience wearing thin as a firm tone settles in his voice. "Tell me who it is."

At this the Changeling shakes herself from her frozen state and pointedly turns away. Her eyes glow in the dark, lighting what little of her cell Jim can see, and what he does, he does not like.

"Nomura," his voice wavers slightly, "whose blood is that?"

"It's nothing to concern yourself with, Little Gynt," Nomura snarls softly at him, moving so she blocks his view of the gore.

"Whose blood is it?" He asks again, firmer now that a worrying possibility has crossed his mind.

"I said, don't worry about it," she presses, grinding her fangs as she protests his insistence of being nosey.

The young Trollhunter meets her eyes with a steely gaze of his own, silent demanding vibrant in his own features. How can he not worry when he doesn't understand? How can Nomura expect him to turn a blind eye when her own are so filled unease?

"Why?" He asks, simple and quiet, and Nomura inwardly flinches at innocently unknowing question. James Lake Junior does not know how much he shouldn't want her to answer.

Opening her mouth to respond, the Changeling finds herself interrupted by a clattering of armour, saving her sanity by refusing her the right to speak. But the guards don't stop at her cell, nor do they stop at Jim's.

What little sympathy Nomura finds herself capable of, she feels for the human whelp. He's going to see the monster his brother has become.

The beast next door snarls a deadly warning, the awful sound of sharpening claws silencing as he bellows. Metal clashes and rings, a guard grunting as something collides with it. Grunts rise to shouts of alarm, and the beast's roars become cries of pain.

Jim's eyes are wide as the cavern echoes, his exhaustion completely vanished now with some sort of fight happening so close. If he was alarmed by the discoloured blood before, he is in full blown panic mode now. His thoughts run one hundred miles an hour, scouring every memory for creatures Blinky had taught him about, and picking apart which ones live in the Darklands. Because he doesn't know what this is. And that scares him.

"Look away, Little Gynt," Nomura tells him softly as she watches several Gumm-Gumms drag a bloodied figure from the cell. "Close your eyes."

But Jim doesn't close his eyes, he can't. He must know what it is.

And, oh, how he regrets not heeding her words.

His heart stops, rising into his throat as the guards walk past, a limp body between them. Scarlet blood dirties their bare torso and stains their poor rags of trousers. The skin beneath the gore is a sickly pale yellow, no longer the healthy olive shade it had been only days ago. Within their collarbone is a deep hole of flaking black, blisters forming beneath the char. But it's their face that terrifies him so much, not the calluses on their shoulders, nor the spear wound in their side, just their face.

Because he knows that face. Because despite the wounds, and despite the blood, he recognises who it is.

"Esmerion!" He cries out with total horror, rushing to the cell entrance and reaching through the crystal bars. His hands grasp at nothing and he tries so much harder, pushing himself flat against the crystals to extend his limited reach. "Esmerion!"

The beaten boy doesn't wake, and soon disappears from sight, a trail of blood being the only proof that he was ever there to begin with.

Tears stream down Jim's face, splattering against his armour like raindrops on a dusty trail, leaving an invisible mark of his wretched grief. He falls to his knees, distraught by the sight of his brother in such a state. It hollows him, the thought of his brother dying, knowing that the possibility is so much higher than he had hoped.

Nomura observes, indifferent to the Trollhunter's cries as she hollows out her own heart of pity. She knows what he does not, and what he has seen is all he must know. The Changeling will not allow him to learn of the beast his brother has become.

"Still think your little friends will save you?" The words are tired and strained, and lack the mocking jab she used in the past.

"They will," Jim promises, his voice tight in his throat. "They're coming for all of us."

Nomura hopes for his sake that he is right.

《《》》

Jim really did not want to fight Nomura. To be honest, he doesn't want to harm the person who has helped him, and become a close ally.

"We don't have to fight, Nomura."

Unlike her, he has hope. Claire and Toby were proof enough of that, and if those two were here in the Darklands, the others could not be far behind.

"You don't. I do." She growls, spinning her swords in her hands. "Sorry, I really was getting to like you."

Her eyes flash with shallow sorrow as she launches at the boy, swelling to pride when he neatly dodges. But then it's gone, hidden deep beneath the layers of determination she buries it under. She wants to be free, and for that to happen, she must abandon whatever fondness she has of him.

Jim understands, he does. Yet he also can see the light in the darkness, the way out of the Darklands. And he wants her to see it too.

Nomura snarls in frustration as Jim avoids her blades once more without a parry. The Trollhunter runs away from her and her fury, leaving her to roar at him, "Fight me, young Gynt! Or else Gunmar will do us both in."

Jim cries out in alarm, his feet knocked out from under him by a thrown weapon. On instinct, he rolls to the side, narrowly missing the sickle blade meant for his back. It feels not unlike the fight with Angor, when he had to be aware of his opponent at all times. Only this time, there is no brother to protect him, no buffer against the crack of a whip. He's alone now.

He cries out again as Nomura swings at him again, and he only just manages to summon Daylight in time to meet her blow. The impact makes his hair sway from the gust, his grip firm as he pushes back at the Changeling.

"My friends are here!" He insists, forcing her blade back far enough to roll beneath her stance. "We're going home!"

"Home?" Nomura laughs bitterly, throwing herself at the young Trollhunter once more. "Home is gone!"

Jim sidesteps, leaning away from the vicious attack. But she snags his foot with her own and knocks him over. He grunts, but by the time Nomura is facing him again, he's already on his feet with sword in hand. He's swift, but his strength is wavering. "They're in the dungeons. I saw them!" He starts pleading, begging her to stop fighting him. He doesn't want to kill her, and neither does he want to die. "We just have to get back there."

"Only one of us is leaving this arena!" Nomura bellows, the force of her blows slowly pushing the Trollhunter towards a deep crevice.

Jim's eyes grow wide, the blues of his eyes more vibrant than ever. Fear reflects in them, and they shine with the broken shards of his dwindling hope.

It strikes him then, how unlikely escape is. Had he really seen his friends or were they a piece of imagination? Esmerion is so close to dead now, he knows for sure, and he can't fathom how he will even come to live with his guilt if the boy does die. Esmerion will bleed out and die, and whose fault will it be but is own?

His eyes flutter shut and small tears roll down his pale cheeks, splattering on his own blade just as blood has done countless times before.

Glee flashes across Gunmar's stoney expression, his fist clenching as he straightens. Fear is a thickening scent in the cavern and it's human, a smell that has not been recognised since the final hours before the Battle was wrought. It's satisfying to inhale, and even more pleasurable to know that it belongs to the whelpling Trollhunter.

"His will weakens."

And so Gunmar grins, swelling with the knowledge he grasps and the tight leash he wields. Another, equally terrible reason he grins, he acknowledges now, is for whom he contains. Control would be an overstatement, so he's told, and given the maddened behaviour of the one who was once so regal, he's inclined to agree. However, Mordred will never know that, even if he can envision the branches of Time's tree.

So while the beast prowls nearby, the Troll grows impatient for the Trollhunter's demise, and slams a fist upon the arm of his throne. "You're holding back! Kill the Changeling! This will not end until you take her life!"

Jim slips and stumbles, the fall saving him from being impaled. Part of him is thankful. A small piece wishes it had done the job.

"Will you listen to me?" He begs, voice cracking. Nomura knocks Daylight from his hands and he resorts to his knuckle blades. "There is a way out. Claire and Toby are here to save us."

"You cry for your friends. But there is no rescue," Nomura's voice starts wavering, full of rage, fear, and regret. She wants to be free, she desires it. And she can see the hope fading from the Trollhunter's unblemished eyes as her words hit an open wound. It's agonising to keep fighting, to keep choosing to kill this boy. She screams, throwing all her strength into her attacks, "There is no home!"

Jim blocks, trying again and again to gain enough time to get to his feet. Eventually, he rolls to the side once more, unaware of the deep crevice. A startled cry leaves him as he scrambles at empty air, falling toward the endless bottom below. To his fortune, his fingers snag in a wide crack, halting his freefall.

Panicking now, the boy swings himself over to the nearest accessible flat of rock, stumbling to his feet before shakily leaping up to the opposite side. His knees tremble now as he stands to face Nomura, and a new hopelessness shines in his eyes.

"No one dies today. We're going home." Jim believes his own words no more than his opponent does, his voice lacking the promise it once held with pride. "There's got to be another way."

Gunmar's eye widens with vicious glee as the Trollhunter's amulet goes out, his scent strengthens with horror and panic. The whelp's eyes are shining, the hopelessness within them festering with each failed attempt to summon Daylight. It is a sight he has craved since the bridge was first destroyed, and at long last he can relish the satisfaction.

As the Changeling tackles the whelp to the ground, Gunmar stands from his throne with sword in hand, his very figure towering over the two. Deep in his chest, he rumbles, a sound that resounds throughout the cavern like a bass.

"Enough, Nomura," he orders the Changeling, "You've proven your loyalty. Now leave the final blow to me. Merlin's Trollhunter is mine."

A short scream and an echoing crash ruins the moment of satisfaction, and what Gunmar sees is enough to make even him falter.

Nomura's eyes widen, pupils dilating with her excitement. A grin steals away her grim expression as the figures at the bottom of the entry port stand. "Your friends. You're not crazy!"

"Everything hurts," the young boy says, rubbing his rear.

"Jim!" Claire exclaims with immeasurable joy, a grin breaking across her face at the sight of the Trollhunter.

His head snapping up to the direction of her voice, Toby also grins. "Jim!" Only for the grin to fall from his face within a split second. Not just Jim!" 

Gunmar practically gapes at them, realisation boiling in his one eye. "Humans? Here? The bridge is open! Catch them!"

Nomura beckons them, sprinting away from the Troll toward a carved skull. "This way," she says, laying a hand on the cheekbone.

Toby doesn't stop in time and bounces off the stone before jumping to his feet and exclaiming, "It's locked!"

"You have to get us to the bridge." Nomura grabs Claire's arm, her eyes staring straight into her soul. It is the only way they will ever escape this prison.

"Let him follow us?" Toby cries, looking at the Changeling as though she's insane. "We're not that crazy!"

Jim, beside himself with glee, examines the skull, running his fingers through every crack and crevice. Then, in victory as he feels a mechanism,  grins. "There's a keyhole!"

"Holy sheesh kebab! The key! It's a crank!" Claire smacks herself, pulling out Kanjigar's gift to her from her satchel.

Rightfully anxious, Toby shouts at her, "Don't just stare at it! Use it!" His eyes are glued to the imposing figure approaching them all. "Hurry!"

"What do you think I'm doing?!" Claire shouts at him, jamming the crank into the keyhole and pumping it as fast as she can. To their good fortune, the doorway opens up into a narrow passageway.

Jim pushes Claire forward, eager to be free. "Let's go!"

"Release my army!" Gunmar bellows, and the echoing sound of chains and cogs can be heard as the barracks open up. With a glint in his eye, he looks up to where the scarred druid hides away, meeting his dull gaze with one of vigor. "Release the beast!"

"Beast?! What beast?!" Toby cries, yelping as he's pulled into the passageway. The sound of metal rings in his ears, and an eerie sense of foreboding fills him.

"The hollowed of soul!" Nomura curses, urging them onwards with a new sense of panic. She can hear something running close behind them. "We must go now!"

"Hollowed soul? Wha-" Jim's eyes grow wide as he glances back, newfound horror on his features. "Oh no. No, no, no, no!"

Catching his expression, Claire turns as well. "What is it?"

A short scream is quick to leave her throat, and she runs forward with new speed. She saw a monster, not someone recognisable.

"What is it?!" Toby cries, huffing and puffing as he attempts to keep up. "What's chasing us?!"

"You don't want to know!"

"Yes, I do! I don't wanna die not knowing the reason!" The rotund boy falls farther behind as he says this, his breath uneven as he runs. He yelps in surprise as he's suddenly lifted from the ground, Jim carrying him on his back.

"It's the Darklands, Toby!" Claire tells him as Jim runs alongside her. "That's reason enough!"

"Wait, but we still still need to rescue Tyler!" Toby protests, Nougat Nummys falling from his pockets.

"That is Tyler!"

Claire falters at the revelation, her eyes wide with horror. But her moment of shock is enough to tip her balance and send her tumbling to the ground with a scream.

"Claire!"

The girl scrambles to get back on her feet, terror sending her heart into an erratic beat. Ahead of her, the trio have stopped, and in their eyes she can read the panic mirrored in her own.

An inhuman snarl rattles behind her, and she snaps her head around to meet the maddened eyes of a monster. It pounces on her, pinning her to the ground with a single, gnarled claw, unbothered by her screams. The stench of blood is so strong that Claire nearly gags, but the force holding her down keeps her from doing even that.

Tears form in her eyes, a thin veil that masks the rabid nature she denies. Surely the monster she sees is an illusion, a creation of her own mind. But the bone-cracking pressure is all too real, as is the vibrant shade of blue in the beast's eyes is far too wild to be a concept of her own.

Unhindered by the girl's terror, he growls quietly, the sound of a caged dog leaving his throat. He bares his teeth, misshapen and stained with blood. A craving claws at his insides, a desire to taste flesh or stone upon his tongue. Sanity is not within him any longer, his soul beginning to tear at the seams.

Claire whimpers, squeezing her eyes shut as he lowers his face to better smell her fear. Each exhale leaves her exposed neck feeling hot, yet her blood runs cold when a trail of saliva splatters across her cheek.

"Don't touch her!"

The beast wearing Tyler's face bellows out a roar, turning its face to meet the terror of the frozen trio. Calluses and hardened blisters scatter across its bare chest, darker in hue than its own skin.

"We're going home, Esmerion!" Jim cries, tears easily sliding down his face. "Don't hurt her, Ez! We get to go home today!"

His words strike the beast, its eyes dilating wide enough to be round once more. It throws itself back, crashing into the cavern wall with a wail that echoes with grief. How pitiful it is, with head clasped between two great claws as it whimpers.

Claire doesn't waste the moment and scrambles to her feet, stumbling down the passageway towards her friends. Together they run once more, but she can't shake the sense that there was some humanity behind his madness.

《《》》

"The bridge." Gunmar draws his blade, pointing the tip of it at the group of trespassers as he speaks, "You will take me there."

"Stay away from his sword, he'll put you under his control!" Nomura warns them, ignoring Toby as he ducks behind her, muttering something to himself.

A familiar scent wafts through the Changeling's nose, and her eyes widen, pupils as thin as needles. Instinct tells her to duck and run, to abandon all hope then and there. But she forcibly ignores it, burying the feeling beneath her determination.

She draws her own blades, hiding the whelps behind the gleam of iron. A snarl leaves her, her lips curling to bare the sharpened teeth beneath as she addresses the Lord of the Darklands, "Stop toying with the children and fight one of your own kind."

"You are not my kind, Impure," the looming Troll claims, a crazed madness blazing in his one eye.

"Go!" Nomura roars at the children, urging them to move as she sprints forward, her blades swift in her hands.

Alas, it is not to be, and Gunmar takes no loss, grabbing her instead.

"You do not deserve my blade," he tells her, and with a harsh motion throws her into the cavern wall.

Barely hesitating, Claire rushes over, dragging Toby by his ear and arguing with him in a hushed voice. She will not stand for his refusal to help the fallen Changeling.

"I think your leg is broken," she mutters after a brief examination of Nomura's physical state.

"You think?"

A shadow forms over the three, a rumbling snarl accompanying it. Claire freezes immediately, her joints locking as her breath grows erratic. Fear is in her eyes, and it's not hard to see why.

Esmerion, or the beast who takes his place, towers over them, standing on his feet for the first time since his remaking. Green slime dribbles from his claws and chin, staining the corners of his mouth. The glint in his unnaturally blue eyes is double what it was in their last encounter, only a sliver of sanity visible behind the haze.

Beyond him, Gunmar bellows, making demands from the young Trollhunter. His blade sweeps to and fro in his impatience, forcing the boy back against the cavern wall. The corrupted male does not acknowledge them.

Toby whimpers, bringing his hands up to his face as he steps back in fear. He cannot understand how this bloody and tortured figure can possibly be the generous boy he had befriended.

While petrified, Claire cautiously holds out her hands to him, showing that she means no harm. She flinches as his wild gaze snaps to her, biting her lip when he bares his teeth. She can remember when that was a playful gesture full of white.

"H-hey, Ez," she says, her voice so quiet it nearly fails her. "You remember us, r-right? We aren't a threat. Y-yeah? Things are going to be all right."

Conflict enters his gaze, proven by the slight crease forming between his brows. His figure starts to shake, muscles tensing as though fighting an invisible force. But then he blinks, and any doubt Claire had about his feral nature is gone, replaced with sickening fear.

To her absolute fortune, Blinkous chooses that exact moment to intrude, his arrival drowned out by the battle taking place behind him. Trailing the Troll is Jim, his hands brandishing an abandoned Gumm-Gumm spear.

"Get away from them!" The boy cries, slashing the weapon mere inches from the beast's own face. "I won't ask again."

Slowly, threateningly, Esmerion turns his attention to his once-brother, jaw open in a mouthy snarl. He does not consider the weapon at all, his eyes sliding up to the boy's pale face.

"Great Glorkus!" Blinkous leaps back, all six eyes open wide in fear. "What has happened to the boy?!"

"I don't know," Jim tells him, his features hardening as he carefully inches around Esmerion, using the spear to distance himself.

"He is not a boy any more," Nomura mutters, her eyes wide.

"Draal will be most displeased."

Jim gives the Troll a look, one of basic confusion and befuddlement. "Of all things that's what you focus on?"

"Would you rather I focus on the colour of his eyes?" Blinkous snaps, turning to Jim while two of his eyes remain on Esmerion. "Because I can do it if you so desire!"

"His eyes?" Toby questions, his attention immediately shifting to the bright blue eyes of the broken boy despite the dire situation. "Holy guacamole! They're blue!"

Esmerion bellows, his roar harmonizing with Gunmar's. Toby's sudden outburst had shaken him from his state of caution and roused him into one of boldness.

Claire shrieks, stumbling back as the male makes to attack her and Toby. Tripping over Nomura, she lands on her rear and immediately curls away from him in fear, her fight instinct abandoning her.

In reflex, Jim swings the spear around and nails Esmerion in the stomach, narrowly missing his already open wound. It knocks him flat and he yelps in pain, curling around the injury.

James Lake Junior flinches at the sight of his whimpering brother, but hastily scrambles to help Nomura up. Following that, he gives Claire his hand and weakly pulls her to her feet.

She smiles at him, watery and weak, yet happy all the same. Terror still haunts her eyes, but she is wildly relieved for Jim's safety.

"Excelsior!" Blinky cries as he ushers the group away from the battle, casting a wary eye back upon the writhing beast. "But we must make haste, I am unsure how long this moment will last."

As the group makes their escape, Esmerion continues to whine, curling around the injury as though it might lessen the agony. It is naught, and blood pours from his wounds, pooling around his limp figure.

With distaste and disappointment, Mordred watches on, his lips curled in a sour sneer. The beast has failed, and Gunmar will be displeased with this setback. However, whilst this changes things, Mordred has seen Time's branches and the fruits of her paths. To remain still any longer would be folly.

"Dark Underlord, we must be gone!"

《《》》

"What are you doing here?"

"My father said I had a choice. This is my choice," Draal's voice echoes within his own head, just like his partner's once did. "Get in!"

"Shotgun!" Toby scrambles up, having no qualms about abandoning a losing battle. The last of his Nummy Nougats fall from his pocket onto the Gyre floor.

"Let's get this thing moving!"

Jim stops before he seats himself, placing a hand on Draal's shoulder to gain his full attention. "Make room for one more. She's coming with us."

"Nomura." Draal snarls silently, put out by this decision of his. Nonetheless, he acknowledges the Trollhunter's wishes before another thought strikes him. "Where is Esmerion?"

His question is answered for him when the Gyre stops to rescue Nomura from battle. The male launches after her, appearing from seemingly nowhere with a bellow to rival Gunmar. Bloodlust is in his eyes, more wild and desperate than it had been before.

Draal hardly pays his fury any mind, grabbing Esmerion's gnarled hand and pulling him on board. He winces as deep gouges are carved into his chest, but holds the male tight in an embrace.

Esmerion claws at the Troll restraining his movement, enraged by the binding, by the refusal to allow him to make corpses of them all. Bloody blisters on his collarbone and back pop, a mixture of blood and mucus running down his frame.

 "The bridge! It's closing!"

He hears someone cry out, their voice unrecognisable to his flooded ears. A bellow escapes him. The Troll holds him tighter.

"Go, go! Don't stop!"

The scent of false-serpent fills his nostrils, vaguely acknowledged among the numerous smells of panic and terror. Esmerion snarls, his growing hackles rising.

"This will do some damage!"

Again, he snarls, but this time he takes the initiative to bite into the stony flesh of the blue Troll's shoulder.

A grunt of pain is all the reaction he receives, and so he bites down harder, his canines sinking in. The grunt becomes a short cry, and the beast throughout crows with victory.

"Faster, Draal! It's closing!"

And then the Troll holds him even tighter yet, and he cannot draw breath. He cannot wrestle against the stone creature when his lungs burn as strongly as iron.

Then, all there is, is immense light and a suffocating heat. Esmerion screams, screams with his own voice for the first time. Barriers shatter, bones quake, and pressure builds. He screams, his skull thundering like a stampede.

Ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum.

Blood pours from his ears, his eyes, his mouth. Then there is nothing.