The Quest For Hope

The Escape: Chapter Eleven

Walking into the depths of the blue mountains excited Jack's senses. The hairs on the back of his arms stood up straight and a slight hum filled the air as the trees, rocks, and the air seemed to come alive. Silvers of light blinded him as he looked up through the trees. His eyes swept around him with a sense of awe.

The tallest of the robed men raised his arm to halt the group. Jack's horse gave a little snort at their abrupt stop.

It was odd-he should have been alarmed but he wasn't. A stranger sense of security enveloped him like he was wrapped in a wool blanket.He closed his eyes, settling into that feeling. 

Jack had no way to determine exactly where in the Blue Mountains they were. The tutors did not teach about the exiled territories. Besides a quick explanation of their treason and banishment, the trolls weren't mentioned.

Judging by the hours they had walked, he figured they were somewhere up in the middle of the mountains. The trees started to thin and large outcroppings of rocks appeared more frequently. when they stopped in front of an oppressive rock wall, Jack questioned their position. The Cliffs of the Blue mountains stretched hundreds of feet above. Even the most experienced of climbers shrank at their reputation. Out of options, Jack would do whatever it took.

The cloaked men left his side and gathered in a circle. Leaning together, their faces disappeared beneath their hooded cloaks and created a living wall of green moss. Jack's eyes widened as he watched.

For one short moment, the green in their cloaks shone with absolute brilliance. Jack rubbed his eyes, but when he looked back, the cloaks had faded. He brushed the thought away. It was one of the many mysteries of the trolls.

When he looked back at the grey cliffs, his jaw dropped. An opening in the rock wall grew larger by the second.

"Whoa," he said to calm his horse, and himself, holding the reins a bit tighter.

The trolls ushered Jack forward. He felt their hands press against his back when he stopped mid-step. A sparkling cave of wonder stood before him, not at all like the empty, damp cavern he had expected.

"Don't let appearances fool you,"the youngest troll whispered, running past him.

Jack couldn't help but stare. The sides of the cave glimmered in trailing waterfalls. Small pools gathered at the base of the walls, collected the water in a reflection of light and colour. The further he walked inside, the more awestruck he grew.

Ornately carved homes lines what appeared to be back to the caves and trails of moss and broken cobblestones marked a path below him. The intricate stonework revealed speckles of pinks, purples, and blue. He couldn't speak; his eyes and mind were transfixed by its beauty.

"Who are you?" He finally asked, finding his voice. 

"I'm surprised you have to ask." The tall man smiled and pulled back his hooded cloak to reveal his face. A lot older than the other men, the troll offered a gentle smile. Carrying himself with the confidence of experience, he looks was kind, but also demanded respect.

"You're the troll of Arendelle," Jack said timidly, looking behind at the growing bevvy of trolls peeking around the man who spoke. He was surprised at the large numbers of women and children trolls among them.

"I am Pabbie, leader of the exiled." Pabbie looked more closely at him and winked. "You may have heard about us." He continued walking deep into the cave.

"We're really not all that different from you and your villagers in Arendelle, despite what you may have heard. We enjoy a simple life." Pabbie waved a stable boy over to take his horse.