Simon, you need to stay down. You don’t want them to hear us. Simon, don’t look. He told us not to look no matter what. Listen to me Simon. We should leave. I know a place for us to hide. Wait, what are you doing? Don’t go out there!

Simon’s eyes shot open. A nightmare. It had been a while since he had one of those. He usually chewed on a Nightgale leaf before sleeping to keep himself from dreaming. Did he forget this time? Also, when did his bedroll get so soft and comfortable? And when did the top of his tent become wood…

The Troll. The Poison. His Leg.

Simon sat straight up. He was lying in a large bed, swaddled in furs and blankets, and someone had stripped him down to his undergarments. Someone had also bandaged his right leg. It was expertly done, and he could feel that there was something else underneath the bandages. Probably some disinfecting herb.

The bed was within what appeared to be some sort of sitting room. There was bookshelf, a couple of comfortable-looking chairs, a fire giving off warmth, and a kitchen area in front of him. There was also a person standing in that area with their back to him.

“So, you’re awake?”

The figure turned, with a smile on their face and a knife in their hand. Simon unconsciously focused on his scars, but instantly regretted it. Troll poison causes temporary unconsciousness, and weakness for days afterwards. This weakness also inhibits magical ability to the point of physical pain.

“Whoa! Don’t strain yourself like that! You’ve already almost died once this week! At least have the consideration to not die in my only bed.”

What?

“Listen, just calm down. I’m going to finish making dinner, and then we can talk”

Simon’s head cleared from the pain, and he realized that the knife was meant for cooking, and not for his throat. He also got a better look at this person who was sassing him.

It was a girl. Her red-tinted hair was cut short, and most of it was pulled back into a ponytail, but the rest drifted in front of her face and seemed to get in the way of her eyes, at least based on how often she swept her hand across her brow. Her cold, steely eyes turned away from him to look at the food that was being prepared. Her hands worked expertly, slicing different vegetables, and sweeping them into a pot. Despite her attitude, she looked pale, as though she was frightened. Then again, it may just be that she didn’t get outside often enough.

After a while, Simon realized that he had been staring at her for a little longer than he should. He didn’t want to look like a creep, so he turned away to take in more of the room.

His things were piled on a chair, and his bag was luckily unharmed. Behind them were a pair of doors, probably leading to some sort of storage room and probably a bathroom. The other side of the room housed a door to the outside, as well as a window. Through it he could see the forest, and the telltale signs of the Troll in the form of broken trees and muddy footprints. He put his hand on his leg.

Why did a Troll go out of its way to head towards this one town? According to his map, there was another one closer to where he had originally seen the Troll. There was also the matter of its eyes. Most monsters have dark eyes, almost black, but for a moment he saw a flash of color. A flash of bright green. He had never heard of anything like it before. What could it mean?

“Alright! Soup’s on!”

Simon turned to see the girl hanging a pot over the fire. She nodded in satisfaction, and sat down in the nearest chair. She turned the back of the chair towards him and folded her arms over the top of it, looking at him.

“Well now, we can talk a bit while that heats up.”

She held out her hand towards him.

“I’m Lucy.”

Simon tentatively reached his hand out and took hers.

“Simon.”

“Well Simon, how about you tell me why you and a monster came barreling out of the forest towards my house.”

Was she blaming him for this? And why was she asking the questions? He should be the one asking what the hell is going on, shouldn’t he? Whatever, he might as well give her the benefit of the doubt.

“I am an adventurer.”

“One of those homeless guys who go around throwing themselves at danger?”

Simon glared at her, “No. We travel around exploring the world, and taking care of monsters and bad guys that threaten the lives of normal people. I was traveling through the forest on my way to the city of New Haven when I happened to come across a Troll.”

“The big thing that almost killed you.”

“Yes. I was going to avoid it and carry on, but according to my map, it was on a direct course with a nearby town. Long story short, I followed the Troll and killed it before it could cause any damage. I have to say though, I had no idea that there was a house this close to the edge of the forest.”

Lucy shrugged, “I suppose I should thank you for killing it then. I’ve been living in this house all my life. I was just reading when I heard some kind of commotion going on outside. Imagine my surprise when I saw some jackass hanging from the tusk of a monster.”

Simon felt his face go red, “And then when I killed it, you came and brought me in here?”

“I figured it was the least I could do after you technically saved me. Also, judging by your screams, you were in a lot of pain. So I brought you in, cleaned you up, and bandaged your leg. You’ve been sleeping for about two days since then.”

Simon put his hand to his stomach. At the mention of how long he had been out, he suddenly realized how hungry he was.

“So… when will that soup be ready?”

* * *

After eating multiple serving of a hearty soup, filled with vegetables and chunks of some kind of meat, Simon and Lucy sat in silence. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire and the animals outside. After an hour of that, Lucy stood up and went into another room to grab some blankets.

“Since you’re taking up my only bed, I will have to sleep on one of the chairs.”

“What? No, it’s your house, you can have the bed.”

Simon tried to get up, but was suddenly hit in the head by the end of a broom.

“Gah! What was that for!”

Lucy propped the broom against the wall, “Your leg still isn’t healed. You had a pretty grievous wound, and too much activity could reopen it. As long as I am the one treating your injuries, you will stay in that bed!”

Simon rubbed the welt on his temple, “Well fine then.” He looked down, “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“What for?! You saved my life! If you hadn’t grabbed me and tended to my leg, anything could have happened!”

She shrugged, “It was what anyone would do. Besides, we saved each other’s lives, so there's no need for anyone to thank anyone.”

Simon smiled a bit. She was sarcastic and a little cold, but there was a genuine kindness in there “I guess you’re right. But if it isn’t too much trouble, could you bring me my pack? I need something from it.”

Lucy grabbed the small brown bag and threw it over to him. He rummaged around for a while before finding what he needed. A jar of Nightgale leaves.

“What are those?”

Simon held up the jar, showing off the leaves. They were a dark blue, almost black, with specks of color that made each leaf look like a tiny night sky.

“They’re leaves from a plant called Nightgale. Chewing them helps me sleep.”

“You have trouble sleeping?”

He placed one of the leaves on his tongue, “I suppose you could say that.”

He placed the jar back in his bag and laid down as Lucy put out the fire. Soon the room was shrouded in darkness. He could hear creaking as Lucy lowered herself into a chair, and the rustle of blankets afterwards.

“Goodnight Simon.”

“Goodnight Lucy.”

* * *

When a Troll gets to be a certain age, it is referred to as an Elder Troll. It is referred to as such because of its habit of sleep. Elder Trolls can sleep for hundreds of years, and over time become part of the landscape that they rest in. Streams run down their heads, and trees root themselves into their backs. Rock and dirt cover the monster until it might as well not exist

When a younger Troll finds an Elder Troll, they tend to stay by the Elder Troll’s side. The sound of another Troll does not wake the Elder, in fact, it lulls them into a deeper sleep. Unfortunately, this means that if the younger Troll were to leave, the Elder Troll would feel a disturbance, and begin to awaken. It may even wake fully and go on a rampage. Fortunately, this rarely happens. Even when slowly awakening, an Elder Troll needs something to rouse it fully. Very few things can accomplish this.

A mound of dirt was slowly rising in the forest, not far from where Simon found the Troll he had chased. The mound was topped with two trees, one young and the other old and dead. There was also a memorial to a fallen soldier on the mound, a gravestone with a sword stabbed into the ground in front of it. A family of foxes ran away as they realized their home was starting to get up.

The Elder Troll’s eyes flickered. It was drifting between sleep and awakening, and for a moment seemed to choose sleep, but then its eyes shot open. A slight green color filled the Elder Troll’s eyes. This color almost seemed to fight the sleep within the Elder Troll, telling it to awaken. The color won.

Fortunately, it takes at least a week for an Elder Troll to awaken completely. One week until the Elder Troll follows the same path as the younger Troll who had stayed by its side.