Troll Chief

(Arthur POV)

I can't help but stare at the troll in the distance. Sure, I've seen them in books, but nothing quite prepares you for the real deal.

This one's shorter than I expected, barely reaching dwarf height. Its face is all chubby cheeks and a comical nose, with curious eyes peeking out from under a mop of shoulder-length hair. Could be female, maybe? Before I can get a better look, it notices me watching and ducks out of sight. Shy little thing.

"Hey, Jeff," I call out, interrupting his forest safety lecture. "Are the trolls around here usually this shy?"

Jeff raises an eyebrow, like he's surprised I even noticed a troll. "Some are pretty meek, yeah. Stay out of trouble. But most?" He chuckles. "They're little troublemakers. Love using their magic to prank travelers and even goblins."

Now that piques my interest. "Magic? Oh right, they can manipulate trees, can't they?"

Jeff nods. "Yep. They use it to scare folks, make 'em think the trees are coming alive or something."

Harvey, one of my more nervous crew members, pipes up. "Wait, if they can control trees, aren't they super dangerous?"

Jeff's explanation is oddly reassuring. "They can be, sure. Five trolls working together can move an ancient tree, give our mages and adventurers a real headache. But they rarely mess with demons these days. They know better."

There's a story there, I can tell. "What happened? Some kind of troll-demon showdown in the past?"

Jeff's eyes light up, clearly excited to share some local history. "About thirty years back, in my dad's day, the trolls got cocky. Started raiding the town, pushing folks around. For a few days, we had ancient trees stomping through the streets."

George leans in, totally hooked. "Then what?"

"Well, the townsfolk fought back, started pushing those trees out. But the real turning point? Lord Demiurge from Evilest City showed up. Nearly wiped out every troll in the forest."

I whistle, impressed. "Damn. Guess that taught them a lesson."

Jeff nods. "Would've been the end of them if their chief hadn't begged for mercy. In the common tongue, if you can believe it."

Now that's interesting. A troll that can speak our language? The filmmaker in me is already seeing possibilities.

As Jeff's story sinks in, the gears in my head start turning. A troll chief who can speak the common tongue? Now that's an opportunity if I've ever heard one.

I'd been wracking my brain about how to bring the Ents to life. Those walking, talking trees were going to cost a fortune in one-time illusion spells. But if trolls can manipulate ancient trees... well, that changes everything.

It's funny. Before Jeff's little history lesson, I wouldn't have even considered approaching trolls. How do you negotiate with creatures you can't even talk to? But now? Now I've got a potential translator.

While Jeff continues regaling the crew with forest tales, I quietly slip away. The power I've been cultivating courses through me as I silently dash towards where I last saw that shy troll.

I leap from branch to branch, the forest a blur around me. It's exhilarating, using these new abilities. For a moment, I forget I'm an exiled prince turned filmmaker. Right now, I'm just another creature of the forest, moving with the trees.

Suddenly, I spot them. The troll from earlier is chattering away in what must be the troll language to another of its kind. The newcomer looks shocked, its eyes wide and mouth agape. Wonder what's got them so worked up?

I perch on a high branch, observing. Part of me knows this is crazy. I'm deep in unfamiliar forest, spying on creatures that, not too long ago, were at war with demonkind. But another part... well, that part's already imagining the incredible scenes we could create with their help.

If I can find their chief, if I can communicate our intentions... this could be the solution to our Ent problem.

***

(Eli Trek POV)

Today's different. Really different. There's a whole bunch of demons in our forest, and they're not just passing through. They're setting up weird-looking equipment, like they're planning to stay a while. It's got my fur standing on end.

I was trying to get a better look when this young demon spotted me. There was something about him - a kind of power I've never felt before. It sent me scurrying back into the underbrush faster than you can say "troll stew".

I had to warn the others. Found a group of our usual troublemakers not far from the village. They're always looking for a chance to pull pranks on travelers, but this is different. This is dangerous.

"Listen up, you lot," I say, trying to sound as stern as my father does when he's in chief mode. "I know you love your fun, but today's off-limits. There's a bunch of demons over there," I point towards the clearing, "and they look like they mean business. No pranks today, got it?"

Gornuk, always the whiner, pipes up. "Aw, come on, Princess. If we don't have our fun, how are we supposed to get motivated for the hunt? The village needs to eat, you know."

"Yeah," Lissa chimes in, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "If anything, more demons means more fun! Imagine their faces when the trees start moving at night!"

The others nod eagerly, and I can feel a headache coming on. Sometimes I wonder if I'm the only sane troll in this forest.

"No," I say, putting my foot down. "This is serious. Before anyone does anything stupid, we need to talk to my father."

Reklo, all muscle and no brains, crosses his arms. "Do we really need to bother the chief with this?"

I fix him with my best 'don't mess with me' glare. "Yes, Reklo, we do. These aren't your usual travelers. They're city demons, and one of them..." I suppress a shudder, remembering that strange power. "One of them is different. Dangerous."

Reklo looks like he wants to argue, but something in my face must convince him. After a bit more grumbling, they all agree to come with me to the village.

We weave through the familiar paths of our forest, the smell of moss and damp earth filling my nose. Soon, our little village comes into view, bustling with trolls going about their day.

"Hello, Princess," they call out as we pass. I try to smile back, but my mind's too full of worry to manage more than a grimace.

We make for the slightly larger house at the center of the village - Dad's place. As we enter, I see him lounging in his favorite chair, puffing on one of those cigarettes he gets from the demon towns. Show-off.

He nods at me. "Daughter." Then his eyes flick to the group behind me. "What's the matter? Why do we have Reklo and the others for a visit?"

Before I can open my mouth, Reklo pipes up. "Chief, Eli says there's a bunch of weird demons..."

We take turns explaining what we saw. Dad listens, his face growing more serious with each word.

Finally, he sighs. "Just don't get in their way. We don't provoke the demons."

Just as the words leave his mouth, there's a commotion outside. Dad frowns, grabbing his staff. "What's happening?"

We rush out, and my heart nearly stops. There, standing in the middle of our village, is the young demon from before. The one with the strange power.

"It's him, father!" I blurt out, pointing. "He's the demon I felt the weird power from!"

Dad nods, his grip tightening on his staff. "I know..." He addresses the demon in the common tongue, his voice gruff. "Oh, young demon. What's your business in my village?"

The demon doesn't answer right away. Instead, he crouches down to our level, a smile playing on his lips. "So it's true. A chief can speak the common tongue."

Dad's frown deepens. "Indeed. I learned it when I was a kid."

The demon nods, then looks around at the panicking trolls. "I mean no harm," he says, his voice oddly soothing. "I'm just here to have a talk with you, chief."

"Me?" Dad asks, surprise clear in his voice.

The demon simply nods, his smile never wavering.

"Who are you? How did you get here?" Father's voice is gruff, but I can hear the undercurrent of worry.

The demon's eyes flick to me for a heartbeat, and a chill runs down my spine. That look... it's knowing, almost amused. My stomach drops as realization hits me like a falling tree.

He followed me. I led him straight to our village.

Before I can process the implications, the demon speaks, his voice smooth as polished stone. "My name is Arthur Morningstar."

The name hangs in the air, heavy with significance. Morningstar. The demon royal family. I've heard whispers of that name, stories passed down in hushed tones around our village fires. Tales of power, of magic beyond our understanding.

And now one of them is standing in our village, because of me.

I want to shrink into the ground, to disappear into the forest floor. But I force myself to stand tall.

After all, I'm the one who brought a Morningstar to our doorstep.