The young Prince Jaedred ran as fast as his legs would carry him, sharp thorns and overhanging thistles catching his face and arms as he bolted past them in his haste to escape. It wouldn’t be long before they found him missing and came after him, and they wouldn’t stop until he was dead, but he hoped to get as far away from the kingdom as he could before they discovered he was gone.

The forest was much darker now that he’d breached the outskirts, the gloom and the mist disorientating him, but he carried on regardless, determined to put as much distance between himself and his home as he could. If only his father hadn’t gone against tradition, if only he’d named one of his older sisters as his heir as he was supposed to, then he wouldn’t be in such a horrid situation. But his father hadn’t chosen one of them, he’d chosen Jaedred, his youngest child, his only son, dismissing his other three children entirely. His sisters had been furious, shouting at the king even as he lay dying and demanding that he chose one of them to rule, but the king had refused, and upon his death the three princesses had made it their duty to rid themselves of anyone who dared to stand between them and their throne, even if that just so happened to be their younger brother.

I must keep going, Jaedred told himself as he begun to grow weary, his legs aching terribly and his breathing becoming ragged. He knew it was only a matter of time before he collapsed, but he was determined to get as far away from the imminent threat to his life as he could before that happened.

The further he travelled into the forest, the more lost he became, the path vanishing beneath his feet and his foreboding surroundings bewildering him. In the past, when he’d had to traverse the forest, he’d been escorted by scores of guards and more often than not his father, who all knew where they were going, but now he was alone and he didn’t know where he was; for all he knew he was going in circles, heading back to the city where all that awaited him was death.

He arrived in a clearing, his legs giving way and his body slumping to the ground. His knees hit the grass first, followed by his palms, the rocks that hid in the undergrowth and wet dirt cutting his delicate skin. He desperately tried to move, reaching out feebly for something stable to hold onto, only to collapse even further towards the ground. His breathing became wheezed, exhausted pants escaping his lips and his limbs shaking from the strain. I can’t do it, he thought dejectedly, his heart thumping so hard that he could feel it all over his body. I can’t go any further.

As he struggled, he began to consider lying down and going to sleep, letting his sisters find him, letting death take him, but he didn’t have long to contemplate the thought as a dark shadow shifted over his quivering form and a disgruntled snort echoed above him.

Jaedred’s body instantly tensed and his racing mind screeched to a halt. Tentatively he looked up, his eyes skimming a pair of flat feet with yellowing nails, grey-green legs covered in scars and bumps, a rounded belly, and two muscled arms. His gaze finally fell upon a gnarled, unpleasant face, a curved tooth sticking out from a pair of thin lips, a crooked nose twisted slightly to the left, and two black, beady eyes watching him.

The prince instantly scrambled backwards, ignoring the painful protest of his limbs as he suddenly jolted away from the beast. “What are you?” he breathed when the creature didn’t move, its penetrative glare making him feel uncomfortable.

“I’m a troll,” the strange being replied. “Do you not know a troll when you see one?”

Jaedred shook his head timidly, his unblinking gaze never leaving the creature. “I can’t say I do,” he admitted. “I’ve never met one before.” A thought suddenly crossed his mind, a thought that oddly enough, settled his mind a little: why wasn’t the monster attacking? In all of the stories he’d been told as a child, monsters attacked first and asked questions later, but this one seemed to be far more intelligent than that.

“Clearly,” the troll said, looking the prince up and down and padding his way across the clearing. He sat himself down on a flat rock, the ground beneath him quaking as he collapsed into the seat. “I’m also guessing you’ve never been through this part of the forest before.”

“How do you know?” Jaedred questioned, narrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

“Because if you had, you’d have met me. I guard the Pass.”

“The Pass?”

“Yes, the Pass.”

“What’s the Pass?”

“What’s the Pass?” the troll laughed, holding onto his rounded stomach as he chortled in his amusement. “My boy, you’re in it.”

“And you guard it?” Jaedred relaxed a little since the troll was showing no signs of malice, if anything he seemed rather friendly, but he still remained wary, refusing to let his guard down just yet.

The troll nodded. “I do. The land to the north is protected. I can’t just let anybody through. You could be dangerous for all I know, and I can’t have you disturbing the peace.”

Jaedred sat back, stretching out his legs and contemplating the matter. He wasn’t scared anymore, if anything he just felt confused, and for a moment he wondered whether the troll was merely a figment of his imagination, the stress, and the panic, and the exhaustion beginning to get to him. But he looked like a real being and he sounded like one too, so after a little thought he came to the relieving conclusion that he wasn’t going mad after all. He really was staring at a troll. “But I must continue on my way,” the prince insisted, getting to his feet and swaying, his legs protesting. “I’m in terrible danger. My sisters are trying to kill me and if I don’t keep moving they’ll catch me.”

“I know who you are, Prince Jaedred, news from all over the land finds a way of reaching me,” the troll assured him, waving away his concerns with a limp hand, “and I know of the situation you speak. But you may be on your way, so long as you can answer three of my questions. Only then may you enter the north.”

“All right,” Jaedred said, nodding in agreement to the terms. “Ask me.”

The troll stood up, the light cast from the torch in his hand shifting and making him look much more intimidating than he actually was. “Fine then, young prince,” he said, tilting his head at the boy and watching him closely. “Which two towns does the Edrin River flow between?”

Easy, Jaedred thought with a smile. “Godlin Hill and Terith,” he answered without hesitation, his grin growing when the troll nodded in confirmation.

“Correct. And which goddess planted all the trees?”

Another easy one, the prince thought to himself. “That would be Elwyn, the first tree sprite.”

The troll nodded again. “Good,” he commended. “Your final question.”

By this point Jaedred was rather confident in himself, certain that whatever the troll asked, he’d be able to answer, especially if it was as easy as the first two questions. But there was something about the troll’s grin, something that unsettled him, and he began to wonder whether this was all some horrid trick. He glanced around, but there wasn’t much to see apart from the silhouettes of distant trees and the flickering flame of the torch.

“What is our world made of?” the troll asked, leaning forwards and watching young Jaedred with unblinking eyes.

The prince’s confident smile instantly dropped and he took a small step back, pondering on the question. He began to wonder what would happen to him if he couldn’t answer or gave the wrong response. For all he knew, the troll would kill him, raise one of his strong legs and crush him beneath his flat foot. A nauseating feeling washed over him, the thought that he’d just run from one danger and straight into another making him panic.

No, he told himself sternly. You can’t die here. You must get to the north. Now think.

He recalled his mother once telling him that their world was made of glass, that they were encased in some sort of orb and that there really was such a thing as celestial lights and other worlds, but she’d been deemed mad, locked away until she’d died. But maybe she was right? Maybe their world really was made of glass?

Jaedred swallowed and took in a deep breath, hoping he was right. “The world is made of some sort of glass, a dark glass,” he replied. “I don’t know what it’s called, my mother never told me. I’m not even sure if she was certain of its name herself.”

The troll bowed his head, his grin spreading and his lips stretching over his singular tusk. “That’s a good enough answer,” he told the prince. “The name you’re looking for is obsidian glass.” He raised his head and looked down at the small boy, standing back and gesturing past him to the realm beyond the forest. “Now, be on your way, young prince,” he said. “Keep heading through the forest and you will reach the northern realm. You’ll be safe there.”

“Thank you,” Jaedred said as he tentatively made his way past the troll, passing beneath an archway created by some overhanging branches and wondering whether they’d been there before. He turned around to ask the troll a little more about the strange glass their world was made of, but when he peered back over his shoulder to feed his curiosity, the tall creature was gone, the light from the torch he’d been carrying gone with him.

With a sigh Prince Jaedred turned his attention back to the path ahead of him, and abandoning the place he’d once called home, he ventured on into the northern realm.