Daylight is Mine to Protect

Part Two: The Pale Lady; Guard

Almost two weeks have passed since my fateful transformation into part troll, part human. I was no longer caged, and I didn't try to escape out of shock. Morgana became my light once more, and I followed her everywhere she went as I tried to make sense of things. At the time, I tried to convince myself it was so I could know her every plan for the time when I would escape and tell the Trollhunter. I no longer delude myself with such fantasies.

I have wondered in these last few weeks why she has not yet summoned the Eternal Night. The one time I asked, she responded by saying, "Every great plan must be fortified by smaller plans to succeed. I have only just emerged from my prison. I must not let Merlin stop me before my time of glory has even begun."

Merlin.... Merlin betrayed me. That wound has yet to heal. After everything I had done for him-- running from my home, protecting the Trollhunter, suffering his never appreciation, staying awake through endless nights-- he had used me as an experiment to further his own gains. I tried to convince myself he had a good reason. But, in the end, all that was left was hate.

Compared to what Merlin has done to me, Morgana no longer seems as bad. In fact, I start to wonder if I've been selfish this whole time in not seeing what she has done for me. 

She had raised me and cared for me in her own unique way.

She taught me how to survive. Not only how to survive but how to thrive.

And though her views on humans are skewed, she did still teach me about the outside world. Of trolls and humans.

Even now, she is helping me to adapt to my new form by spending her valuable time to teach me. To train me.

I weave my way through obstacles of blades and rotating floors in a chamber which was once used to train the Trollhunters. I felt weird at first using it, but Morgana had reminded me that it's only fair considering what Merlin did to me.

I switch from form to form, familiarizing myself with the feeling and using the transformations to their full advantage. My more human form is skinnier and more dexterous, so I use it to avoid situations I might have not been able to in my other form. My more troll form is stronger and faster, so I use it when I want to stand and fight. 

Yet, the worse part is not getting used to the new balances my bodies have. No, the worse part is the emotions. Where once a failure might have encouraged me to repeat the process over and over until I get it right, it now sets me off in a fit of anger where I am unable to revert back to my more human form until I have calmed down.

As I train, Morgana calls out tips in her commanding, slightly crazy sort of way. "There are three rules that my changelings live by," she tells me. "You may have heard them before, but they have new meaning now that you are one of them. Rule one. There is honor among assassins." I slide under a blade flinging itself from on high. I had heard these rules before, but I had all but forgotten about them until now. "Rule two. Rule one is a lie. There is no such thing as honor." I stumble as my form flickers from more human to back to troll. "Rule three. Everything and everyone is a tool to get what you want." The last rule makes me pause for a second. No doubt, I had been used by almost everyone I had ever known. It infuriates me to think about it. 

I dodge a blade whishing behind me and smile a little. For how much I hate being transformed like this, my new senses are a tool in of themselves. Imagine how ironic it would be if I used them against the very person who forced them upon me. A smile comes to my face at the thought.

"My queen!" I turn to look as a blue changeling enters the room. I don't recognize them, but that's not surprising. Since Morgana had taken over Troll Market, more and more changelings had made their way here to pledge their loyalty. I hadn't taken the time to remember all of them.

I continue to leap from place to place but keep myself in my more troll form, keeping my ears open for the news the changeling has brought. Yet, despite my best efforts, I can't hear anything.

"My apprentice," Morgana calls. "Come with me."

I obey, leaping off of a rising platform and to her side. A grin spreads across my face despite myself when the changeling yelps and takes a step back. 

"What has happened?" I ask, trailing behind the Pale Lady as she floats to her destination.

"More come to pledge their service," she replies. I nod and keep silent.

It had become routine to follow Morgana around every day. Isha had called me Morgana's "guard dog" in jest, but I had taken to the idea. Despite the fact that I am likely to do no difference protecting someone as powerful as Morgana.

As I walk, I transition from human to troll to human. With great effort, I had been able to reduce the amount of light emitted when I do so. I use the time it takes to get to our destination to practice that further. No doubt I still look like strobe lights.

We arrive at the Heartstone where a throne for Morgana had been constructed. She rarely sits in it. She's told me it feels too confining. The changelings don't know that, though. Every day, it looks different to impress their queen. Morgana is aware of their confusion, but it amuses her. She will sometimes sit on the chair just long enough for the changelings to think they have found the right design and then refuse to even look at it. It confuses the changelings a great deal. 

Today, the throne is high obsidian with skulls littered around its bottom. The thrones always have had a skull element ever since Morgana sat in one that was made of bone. 

Angor Rot is absent as he usually is. I'm still not sure if Morgana has him going on secret missions, or he prefers whittling his totems to the bickering of the changelings. Or maybe a little of both.

The three new changelings are covered in shawls and already prostrate on the ground. I had never seen them before, but what else is new? The right most one is larger than most of the changelings I have encountered. He almost looks more troll than changeling.

"My dearest queen," the middle one calls. She is still looking firmly at the ground. I can't help but think I recognize her voice. "What grace that we may be touched by your presence once more!"

"I do not recognize you," Morgana says. "From where do you hail?"

"I-- we hail from the land across the sea where full trolls are scarce. We journeyed hear as soon as we heard of your freedom."

I frown. I've definitely heard her voice before. I start to take out my glasses, so I can see the person's name. "Really?" Morgana asks. "How interesting. You may rise now."

They do and all express surprise at me standing next to Morgana. They usually do. "Er, my queen. Who is that next to you?" asks the one on the left. His voice is squeaky and also seems familiar to me. I wrack my brain trying to think of who. I shove my glasses back in my pocket of my cloak now that their attention is on me.

"Ah, yes." Morgana smiles at me. "This is my apprentice. She had a little bit of a... redesign, shall we say." I bare my troll teeth at them for effect and the squeaky one yelps. 

They all look nervous now. Most likely they had only been expecting to meet with the queen, not her scary looking bodyguard. But, since when does life give us what we want?

It is then I get a proper look at the changelings in front of me. The left one is light orange, the middle is purple, and the right is dulled forest green. But, it is their eyes that catch my attention. They're all green. 

I growl in realization and summon my staff to my fingertips. As if in response, a figure leaps from the shadows to Morgana with a yell that diverted all attention to him. I react instinctively. I spring from my place by Morgana's side to her front and block the sword that comes crashing down. The person-- troll looking-- looks bewildered that someone besides Morgana was there. My own breath hitches as I look at him. Looking at him regularly, I never would've been able to place him. He has pale blue skin and eyes with two spiraling horns sticking out of his dark hair. But, what catches me off-guard is the glowing black and red armor. And that sword. It can't be.

"Jim?" I ask just as he responds, "Amber?"

A/N: We love time skips.