Atlas had taken advantage of the fact that he now had a reliable council to prepare for the war.
‘Time to say goodbye and hang out with Portilla and Crushir some more before I go, it’ll be about a week before I return from war,‘ thought Atlas.
Atlas found the baby trolls hanging around playing with mini faeries. He looked at his two baby trolls, even though, deep down, he knew they weren’t babies anymore. Portilla and Crushir had grown so fast—too fast. He had adopted them seven days ago, but due to the Red Fairy they were now officially teenagers in age. Their faces beamed up at him, eager, full of excitement and determination.
“Papa!”
He sighed, running a hand over his face. They were dressed in their new gambesons, created together from slimes, and both looked ready to march into battle. It tugged at his heart, seeing how much they had grown, how much they wanted to prove themselves.
Atlas said to Portilla and Crushir, “Guys, I'm gonna be gone for a week. I'm going to war.”
“What’s war?” Portilla asked in her high, female troll voice. Her voice had been deepening as she grew older, as a teenager.
“War? Crushir asked with a big emphasis on the question. Out of the two of them, Crushir spoke very rarely, unlike the inquisitive Portilla.
“That's when a big group of men attack another big group of men,” Atlas explained.
“Why fight?” Portilla asked. Even though she had been growing up and was almost fully grown, as a teenage troll, she never really used a lot of words. From when Atlas had been fighting trolls before, he noticed that they usually only spoke one or two words. He assumed that in the troll settlements, most of them used a combination of body language, facial expression, and a few words because the universal translator didn't add anything else to Portilla’s speech.
“Well, there are bad men out there,” said Atlas, “and we need to kill them.”
“Fight! Fight, fight, fight!” Portilla exclaimed. The mini-fairies that were swarming around heard that and looked around, not seeing a fight, but they joined in also enthusiastically chanting, “Fight, fight, fight!”
“Fight!” Crushir added, with extra enthusiasm pumping his teenage troll fists.
Atlas continued, “So yes, there will be a war, and I'll be gone for seven days. You guys will have to be good, and the mini fairies and the Earth's Children will take care of you.” The Earth's Children had been spending a lot of time with the trolls and were great babysitters. It was maybe a combination of stoners and baby trolls who didn't speak much that seemed to almost blend across the universal rules of friendship and empathy.
“Can we come? We want to fight,” Portilla said. She worked hard to form this super long sentence.
Crushir bounced up and down excitedly. “Fight, fight, fight!” The mini-fairies joined in, “Fight, fight, fight!”
Atlas laughed at that. It was a shame he couldn't bring the mini-fairies, but there was no way he was bringing the baby trolls.
“No, guys, you're still too young. You can't go into a war. I can't keep an eye on you.”
Portilla said, “No, I want to fight. I want to go with Papa.”
Crushir said, “Fight.”
Atlas crossed his arms and said, “No, you're not going.”
“You guys… still look like babies to me,” Atlas said softly, forcing a smile.
Crushir puffed out his chest, trying to look tough. “We fight! We strong!”
Portilla, always the louder one, bounced on her heels. “Yeah, Daddy! We fight skeletons! And green slimies! And ghouls! We fight so much!”
Atlas chuckled despite himself. They had been good in their training, stronger than most trolls their age—or even older ones. He remembered the first time they’d taken down another troll, a much older one. It had been brutal, swift, and final. Atlas had felt a pang of sadness, watching them crush the life out of another of their own. But Portilla and Crushir? They hadn’t blinked. In their minds, they were the king and queen of trolls, and weaker trolls were just obstacles in their way. The memory gnawed at him—how easily they’d killed, without hesitation, without a second thought.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Still, the thought of bringing them to a war—a full-blown, bloodbath of a war—sent a shiver down his spine.
“This is different,” Atlas said, his voice steady, trying to reason with them. “There’s going to be a lot of people, more than you’ve ever seen. I can’t… I can’t protect you out there.”
Portilla frowned, her little fists clenching. “We protect you, Daddy. We strong.”
“We strong!” Crushir echoed, stomping his foot for emphasis.
Atlas felt his resolve start to crack, but he stood firm. “You’ve been hurt before, but this… this is real danger. I can’t watch over you both and fight at the same time.”
At that moment, one of the Earth's children approached, a nervous energy about him. "Atlas," he said cautiously. The memory of being glued to the bone stake still haunted him, and he didn't dare interrupt casually.
Atlas turned, raising an eyebrow. "What is it?" He didn’t expect to be interrupted while chatting with his adopted trolls.
The Earth's child swallowed hard, eyes flicking to Portilla and Crushir before speaking. "They… they’ve been talking to us. They knew you still think of them as babies. But they want to go to battle with you.”
Atlas blinked in surprise. “They did?”
‘How did the trolls even hear about the upcoming war? I guess the preparations haven’t exactly been subtle,‘ Atlas thought.
Portilla beamed proudly, her eyes wide and innocent. “Yup! We knew! We smart too, Daddy.”
Crushir nodded vigorously, repeating, “We smart.”
The Earth's child then added, "They even prepared a song... Portilla's been practicing."
Atlas stared at his daughter. "A song?" he asked, incredulous.
Portilla, her voice tinged with nerves but excitement, nodded. "I practiced hard, Daddy! Wanna see?"
Before Atlas could answer, the Earth's child began to play the song, the soft, whimsical notes of ‘Growing Five to Nine‘ which was set to the tune of another classic country song, filling the air. And then, to his utter astonishment, Portilla began to dance. It was clumsy but earnest, her big troll feet moving in ways that shouldn’t have been possible for someone her size. Her movements, somehow, were a perfect blend of troll strength and a K-pop dance routine. It was ridiculous. It was adorable. It was… perfect.
***
https://suno.com/song/3e452844-0016-476f-98ff-1eda952d8501
Tumble outta bed and I stumble to the kitchen,
Pour myself a bug-filled potion,
And yawn and stretch, try to start my trollin’ life.
Splash in the mud, and my paws start movin’,
Out in the cave, the critters are groovin’,
The trolls like me are growin’ up from five to nine.
‘‘Growin’ five to nine, what a way to learn and livin’,‘‘
Barely getting by, just takin’ and no givin’,
They just use your claws, and they never give you credit,
It’s enough to make you grumpy if you let it!
‘‘Five to nine, for smashin’ and devotion,‘‘
You would think we’d get a proper troll promotion!
Want to go ahead, but atlas just won’t let me,
I swear sometimes these faeries are out to test me!
They let you play, just to keep you quieter,
You're just a step on the Crushirs ladder,
But you’ve got dreams, they can never take away.
You're in the same boat with all of your friends,
Waitin’ for the day your chance will begin,
And the slime’s gonna turn, and it’s all gonna roll your way!
‘‘Growin’ five to nine, what a way to learn and livin’,‘‘
Barely getting by, just takin’ and no givin’,
They just use your claws, and they never give you credit,
It’s enough to make you grumpy if you let it!
‘‘Five to nine, yeah, they got you in the jungle,‘‘
There’s a better life, and you know it when you struggle,
It’s a troll’s world, no matter what they call it,
And you spend your time just waiting for a brawl in it.
‘‘Growin’ five to nine, what a way to learn and livin’,‘‘
Barely getting by, just takin’ and no givin’,
They just use your claws, and they never give you credit,
It’s enough to make you grumpy if you let it!
‘‘Five to nine, yeah, they got you where they want you,‘‘
There’s a better life, and you know it when you struggle,
It’s a troll’s world, no matter what they call it...
‘‘‘
Atlas couldn’t help but smile. "You remembered all those words?"
Portilla nodded, eyes shining with pride. "Yes, Daddy! Earthies friends made song. Like dance?"
“I… I loved it,” Atlas said, and he meant it. He had never seen anything like it.
Crushir grinned, his teeth sharp but his expression warm. “She best dancer.”
It had been hard for her to learn it. The words were foreign to her. But like singers who sing in foreign languages, she had memorized the words.
“Now papa! Crushir also has show!” Portilla waved her brother forward.
Crushir moved the centre of the room.
The Earth’s children brought out cages. Within those cages were 6 skeletal dungeon spawns.
They opened the cages and Crushir went to town on them.
He used his club ferociously. Trading cuts for increased damage.
CRACK!
CRACK!
Skeletons turned into powder as the brutal troll strength combined with the training that Crushir had absorbed. Trolls in the wild were brutal, but a troll with armor and systemic training? Brutality times a hundred.
Even though his wounds bled, the smile on his face never left.
One by one, the skeletal foes fell.
CRACK!
CRACK!
Until there were no more.
***
Portilla applauded her brother’s triumph.
“Do good papa?” Asked Crushir.
“You did well,” said Atlas with pride.
Atlas's heart swelled, a wave of emotion hitting him harder than he expected. ‘They weren’t babies anymore. Not really. They were growing, becoming stronger, smarter, and more capable every day. And as much as it hurt to admit, maybe it was time to stop treating them like the little trolls he had once held in his arms.’
"Alright," Atlas said, his voice thick with emotion. "If you're willing to go… then I won’t stop you."
Portilla and Crushir jumped in joy, their voices ringing out together, "We fight! We fight!"
And from somewhere above, the mini faeries chanted, "Fight, fight, fight!"
‘‘‘‘