“Fall back! Protect the healers!” Noa swiveled his head to Chief, yelling as she leaped high through the air, soaring far over Mufasa... erm, Scar━That lion king was definitely an evil one.

“Hold tight to the straps,” Baby-blue said, already reacting before Noa could grab the straps. He stopped himself from flying right out of the basket in the nick of time, falling off the ledge with Baby-blue in a terrifying maneuver to dodge a leaping lion.

Noa screamed.

Legit screamed.

Like a little girl.

He closed his eyes, clutching tightly to the straps for dear life, only letting go of them when Baby-blue’s sudden stop knocked him against the bottom of the basket. Gasping in air he lost, Noa’s eyes flung open, seeing the lion dive right past the ledge and off the cliff altogether with a wild yowl.

Somehow, Baby-blue had managed to masterfully grasp back onto the cliffside, latched on there while an echo of lion snarls and trollish cries sounded from above.

“Are you with me, Noa Bard?” Baby-blue asked.

“Yeah,” Noa coughed out, pushing himself back up and clutching the straps again. “We need to go back up.”

Baby-blue reached up for the ledge, and bellowed as claws sank into his hand. Noa dropped back down to the bottom of the basket as Scar’s massive mane came into view, followed by beady eyes that bore into him. It opened its large mouth, a roar rattling Noa’s bones. Further, he buried himself into the cube of the basket, his breath hitched.

Sweat rolled from his brow, and he clung to the fur encasing his form as the beast bore down into his very soul.

It wanted him.

A second paw reached out as it balanced over the ledge, scratching into Baby-blue’s arm as he desperately tried to rip his hand free from the first one.

Where was everyone? Surely they couldn’t have fled, leaving them alone with this monster!

Help, Noa cried internally, petrified. While his bones were stiff as stone, his every muscle shook, reflecting his racing heart. Scar leaned ever closer, not releasing the troll.

“Go meet Jildas, fiend!” Baby-blue bellowed, and wrenched himself up with his bad arm in one swift movement, releasing his good one to yank at the beast’s mane. His muscles grew in size as he flexed, pulling Scar off the ledge, but not without its cost.

Scar fell, and brought both Noa and Baby-blue with him. He didn’t let go of the troll’s arm, and even lurched over the troll’s head, jaw unhinged and reaching to snap down on Noa’s form as he lurched from the basket.

“Oh shit!” Noa cursed, throwing his arms in front of his face as if that’d protect him. Even if he did escape the lion, he doubted that the basket falling away from him could save him from the fall.

He was going to die.

“Go!” Baby-blue howled, fisting the beast away with his good arm. Once knocked away its head. “Meet!” Twice caused it to spiral away. “JILDAS!” a third time forced it to retract its claws, freeing Baby-blue and knocking him in the opposite direction during the fall. That left Noa, lagging behind the two heavier beings, between them.

Baby-blue thrusted his good hand into the mountainside, his hand grinding into the stone and grasping at it, slowing his fall until he stopped.

Terror escaped Noa’s lungs as he fell past the troll, his doom awaiting him far, far below. A bone-crushing hold wrapped around his right leg, pain shooting through it with several distinct cracks. Never was he so grateful to be howling in pain and not screaming to his death.

Arms dangling below him, he gasped in several sharp breaths, hanging from Baby-blue’s fierce and bloodied hold. The troll grimaced, then slowly moved Noa back to the basket, having to drop him the last few feet to even reach it.

After landing with a cry, he rolled to his back, every movement sending a spike of agony through his leg. If he wasn’t sick before, one glance to the limb certainly brought on a nausea he desperately wished to relieve. “Oh hell.” Even his voice trembled.

“Are you okay, Noa Bard?” Baby-blue asked.

“I’m alive,” Noa said. “Can you climb?”

“Yes, it is only a flesh wound.”

“You’re lying to me, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” Wow, honesty. He wasn’t actually expecting that. “I am not as broken as you. I grabbed your human leg like grabbing baby troll. I felt the damage.”

“Yeah, I figured that part out,” Noa said, groaning as he tried to decide if he should heal his leg, or if he should...

No. No, no, no. The aether stone. It was in his hand. He’d been holding it between him and the basket almost this entire time.

“I lost the aether stone,” he said, “I can’t heal.”

Stolen story; please report.

“It is okay, there are other healers,” Baby-blue said, hissing as he finally used his bad hand to start the climb. “And I am feeling renewed vigor.”

At the mention of that, Noa felt a distinct shift in the air around him, and Baby-blue’s skin brightened. “Get up the mountain, fast!” he warned, sensing the evolution approaching, and when it came, well... he’d be the size of the basket he carried.

The blue troll reacted with haste, leaping up an entire step and jostling Noa. Clenching his teeth, he resisted several yelps of pain as the troll progressed. That ever brightening glow had him tense, waiting for the worst to happen. It just kept growing, threatening a terrible outcome.

Come on! Noa gritted his teeth, curling his hands into fists.

Baby-blue’s bloodied hand broke into the stone at the ledge, and he roared as he pulled them up over it. Noa closed his eyes as the troll became too bright, feeling his basket move further. By the time the light was gone, he was sitting still, the basket not moving. He half expected a lion to come eat him in the time it took for anything to happen.

Each minute was an excruciating one, more because of the actual pain than anything else. Not being able to perceive his imminent doom from the beasts around was both unnerving and comforting━Noa didn’t want to see death coming for him.

The snarls, roars, and cries grew further away, leaving a pounding, pounding, pounding behind. The earth shook, Noa’s teeth aching from clenching so hard. Finally, a burgundy troll’s face came into view. She held a long, stony dagger, blood staining the blade.

“He looks paler than usual. Are you sure he lives, Seoc?” the pregnant troll asked.

“I’m alive,” Noa said, trembling. “Just hurt.”

Baby-blue leaned over, his face significantly smaller after evolution, and, well, he was actually a good looking troll. Not that trolls looked bad per se, just that Baby-blue had a chiseled jaw.

“I only crushed his leg,” Baby-blue said.

“So fragile,” The pregnant troll’s pink eyes softened, regarding Noa with... erm, something. Maybe regarding him like a baby? Weren’t troll babies significantly more durable?

Okay, Mama Troll, you can stop staring now, Noa thought.

Much to his surprise, Mama Troll picked the basket up, strapping it to her own shoulders. “The lions retreated after the king fell. The others have sought refuge in the caves,” she said.

“Aren’t the caves where the lions live?” Noa asked, taking in a sharp breath with Mama Troll’s first step. Being carried by a troll while injured was something else, each step bouncing his form. He gripped the hide around him tighter, as if that’d help.

“Some are.”

Comforting.

“Why aren’t you with the others?” Baby-blue asked, though Noa couldn’t see him anymore. The blue sky sufficed in his place, almost the same color anyways.

“I was needed here with the stone slingers.”

“You endangered the baby,” Baby-blue argued.

“Ours is a strong baby, Seoc.”

Wait, wait, wait, Baby-blue was Papa Troll? Oh how the plot thickened.

The bickering moved back and forth, and if Noa had all of his faculties about him, he might have been annoyed by it. Instead, he used it to distract from the figurative daggers in his leg. At some point, someone else even joined the conversation, which was a bad idea. Mama Troll and Baby-blue argued like an old married couple who both promptly told the other troll off, not before the other troll mentioned the child that she had with Baby-blue as well. That left Noa with a burning question to accompany the burning pain.

“Do trolls get married?” he blurted as they passed through the cave entrance, a glow cast from the back of it lighting the ceiling.

“What?” Mama Troll asked, as if she didn’t hear the question.

“Do trolls get married?”

“Companionship pacts under Jildas occur sometimes,” Baby-blue answered. “Not common. Bad for populous growth. Better to mate frequently.”

“Yeah, but what about romance?” Noa asked. “Love, and the like.”

“I have loved all my mates,” Baby-blue said.

“Loved,” Mama troll enunciated the past tense.

“You two should just get married already,” Noa said. He let out a small cry as the basket was shifted, landing on the ground with a light thud. Trolls were far from gentle. “He clearly still loves you, Mama Troll.”

“Mama Troll?” the pregnant troll leaned over to look down at Noa, stony brows raised. “Brilliant!” she bellowed, “Everyone should call me that!”

That’s what you got out of that conversation? Noa deadpanned, then grimaced. He wasn’t the only one in pain either, hearing deep moans around the cave.

Armael’s head peaked over the basket’s ledge, the man just tall enough for it. “You look terrible, kid,” he said.

“Are you Captain Obvious now?” Noa asked. “Just tell me you have some aether left.”

“Nope. Used it all up to make sure no one else died.”

“Damn, I was afraid you were going to say that,” he cringed. “Where is everyone?”

“Chief’s tending to the wounded as I instructed, as are some others. Five trolls evolved in that fight, including the one carrying you,” Armael noted. He grunted, hoisting himself up and over the basket ledge, his robes bunching up as he crouched over Noa’s legs. “Mama Troll,” he pointed, “grab a hide from one of the evolved trolls.”

“What are you doing?” Noa asked, Mama Troll moving away.

“Taking care of your leg manually.” Armael unsheathing a dagger was possibly one of the most terrifying things Noa could have imagined; for some reason, a dagger in that man’s hand was unsettling. He was right to be unsettled as his mentor ripped through his pant leg with the weapon, relieving a tightness Noa didn’t know he’d been feeling. “It’s swollen, but could be worse. You absolutely need magic to prevent permanent damage.”

“Comforting,” Noa muttered.

The troll returned with the hide, slicing through it to resize it.

“What happened? That battle, everything, what...” he grunted as Armael straightened out his bad leg, even letting out a small cry and a heavy breath as the pain shot up his leg.

“It wasn’t an ordinary battle. Something was wrong with those lions,” Armael said, placing the leather between Noa’s legs. “My theory is that a [Druid] was involved. The lions were organized, and the moment we disorganized them enough, there was a final push to target you. Reeked of a desperate [Druid] expending the last of their aether.”

“What?” Noa asked.

“It was going to happen eventually━someone is trying to assassinate you.”