The march through the dense forest was silent.
Not the peaceful kind. Not the kind where you could hear the rustling leaves, the distant calls of wildlife, the steady rhythm of footsteps.
This was a different kind of silence. Heavy. Suffocating.
I could feel it—thick in the air, pressing against my back like a beast lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike.
The trolls weren't just watching me.
They were glaring. Whispering.
Like I was something unnatural. A stain on their world.
And Gunthar, the hulking bastard who had nearly torn my throat out?
His glare was the worst.
Unwavering. Burning.
Like he was trying to carve me open with sheer hatred alone.
Well… screw you, Gunthar.
You lost to a younger troll. You don't get to be mad.
I had no idea what their problem was, but I wasn't stupid.
Something about me eating humans had unsettled them.
But why?
Wasn't I a monster? Wasn't that what monsters did?
Yet, the way they looked at me—as if I had committed some unforgivable sin—didn't make sense to me.
But I guess I couldn't look at them as just monsters.
As these trolls weren't just mindless beasts.
They had rules and laws--and although that sounded really boring.
It bounded them.
And as a troll, I was expected to follow the rules?
Like hell.
How was I going to get stronger if I couldn't consume?
Talia must have sensed my confusion and displeasure because she suddenly drifted closer, her steps effortlessly matched mine.
For the first time, I noticed the clanking pendant around her neck—a tribal-looking charm, swaying with each measured step.
She wasn't like the others.
No snarling. No disgusted glares.
If anything… she looked amused.
"You noticed it, didn't you?" she asked, her voice smooth, almost teasing.
I didn't answer right away. Instead, my eyes flicked toward a cluster of trolls huddled together, whispering.
They weren't just disgusted.
They were fascinated. Like I was some kind of freak show.
"Yeah," I muttered, barely keeping the irritation out of my voice. "Kind of hard to miss."
I turned to her, brow furrowed.
"What's the deal with this?"
Talia didn't answer right away.
Her gaze slid toward Gunthar—who still looked like he wanted to strangle me—before shifting back to me, her lips curling into something that wasn't quite a smile.
"You ate humans."
I frowned. "So?"
Talia sighed—a long, tired sound like she was explaining something to a particularly slow child.
"Killing humans is taboo among trolls."
I already got that memo from the way they were looking at me—like I had sprouted a second head and declared war on common sense. But that wasn't what I needed to know.
The real question was why?
Talia's face remained unreadable. "We avoid unnecessary conflict with them. It's an old law, deeply rooted in our history."
I scoffed.
"Really? I thought it was because you guys were afraid of them."
Talia didn't flinch. She didn't even blink.
"We are," she admitted, her voice calm. "Of what they could do yes"
I frowned.
A race of towering, muscle-bound warriors—feared by every creature in this damned forest—and they were afraid of humans?
"But why?" I asked, my voice laced with curiosity. "We're definitely stronger than them."
Talia scoffed, shaking her head like I was a clueless child.
"Long ago, we trolls were not as we are now," she said, her voice carrying the weight of something ancient. "We were powerful—not just in strength, but in magic. We wielded it freely, bending the elements to our will."
Magic.
I almost stopped walking.
Trolls could use magic?
That was… awesome.
For as long as I could remember, I had wanted to use magic.
To hurl fireballs, summon storms, or carve the air with a flick of my hand.
It was one of those childhood fantasies—one I never thought I'd hear attached to trolls.
Maybe I'd get to live out that dream in this new world.
But something about the way she said it—like magic was something lost, something unreachable—made my excitement wane.
What happened to it?
Talia didn't give me time to ask. Her voice was steady, but there was something underneath—something bitter.
"But humans feared us," she continued. "And that fear turned to hatred. They saw us as monsters, threats to their dominion. Eventually, war became inevitable."
I nodded.
Yeah, that sounded exactly like something my former race would do.
Fear what they didn't understand. Hate what they couldn't control. Destroy what made them feel small.
Talia's voice dipped, taking on a darker edge. Her fingers curled slightly, as if remembering something she'd rather forget.
"But then... the demons came."
"Demons?" I echoed, my interest piqued.
Talia's gaze darkened, her expression unreadable. "They were a greater threat. One neither race could face alone. So the trolls did something no one expected—we offered peace. We shared our knowledge of magic, hoping that unity would lead to a lasting truce."
I exhaled sharply.
I could already tell where this was going.
"And they betrayed you," I said flatly.
Talia nodded, her jaw tightening. "Once the war was won, the humans turned on us. They took everything. Our spells. Our knowledge. Our very source of magic. They sealed it away, ensuring that we would never again be their equals."
Talia's voice was quieter now, tinged with something I almost mistook for sorrow. "Now, only shamans or those with magic-infused artifacts retain any of our former strength. The rest of us? We're just remnants of what we once were."
For the first time since I'd met her, I saw something beyond her smug amusement.
Sadness.
I stayed silent, letting it all sink in.
Humans stole our power.They crippled an entire race just to stay on top.
Without magic, the trolls must...