A Trolls Journey

Basa remembered no womb, no darkness or drifting half dream before life.

Only warmth. A crushing, ancient warmth, like mountains curled around him.

Then it was gone.

Awareness struck him all at once: the stale air, the taste of iron and dust.

He sat on the cavern floor, small and newly formed, fragments of loose shale sliding from his shoulders as he looked around.

Around him, the tunnel walls pulsed faintly with ember veins and rivers of molten gold threading through black stone.

Two figures loomed above him.

His mother and father he wasn't sure how he knew, but he did.

They were massive things of granite flesh and hunched backs. Their hands were enormous, with glowing seams of magma light that glowed on their skin.

They stared down at him with pride.

As he looked around the chamber, he saw more children like him emerging from the stone walls.

Some crawled free like soft clay, their limbs still sagging and unfinished. Others stepped out harder, bodies already plated in dark minerals, chips of crystal glittering from their shoulders.

Basa blinked up at the giants before him.

His big yellow eyes shone bright in the dark.

Then he smiled wide and toothless and lifted both arms toward them.

“Look at him,” his mother whispered.

"Our little ember... he is perfect."

His father gave a slow nod, a smile all over his face. Dust drifted from his shoulders as he moved.

Without another word, his mother bent down and gathered Basa into her arms. He fit against her chest like a gem embedded in a wall.

Together, they disappeared deeper into the endless kingdom beneath the world.

The deep roads glittered. Crystals bloomed from the tunnel walls in clusters, casting soft blue and amber light across the stone.

Thick crevices of silver and iron jutted outward like exposed bones, while rivers of molten ore crawled slowly through.

Basa stared at everything with enormous golden eyes.

He didn't know the names of the metals.

Didn’t know the difference between gemstone, ore, or crystal.

But instinct stirred inside him all the same.

A deep gnawing clawed at his stomach.

The veins of copper and gold gleamed wetly beneath the stone, and Basa reached toward them with tiny clawed hands, grabbing at the air with desperate little noises.

His mother laughed when she noticed, the sound echoing warmly through the cavern.

"Just like his father," his mother said, turning to his father with a smile.

His father straightened proudly beside her, heavy footsteps shaking dust loose from the ceiling.

“He’ll make a fine Mograth one day,” he rumbled. “Strong jaw. Strong eyes.”

His mother nodded in agreement, adjusting Basa carefully against her shoulder.

"Aye. Just like his father."

The tunnels stretched endlessly around them.

Basa peered over his mother’s shoulder as the world drifted past in layers of stone and earth. Black rock pressed beneath red clay, which pressed beneath pale mineral shelves streaked with glowing fungi.

Ancient roots, thicker than houses, twisted through the ceilings in places, disappearing upward into unseen worlds far above.

Sometimes shadows moved along the cavern floor.

Quick little things.

Basa tried to focus on one, but it moved too fast.

Then suddenly he saw it: a small white shape darted between the rocks.

It was fluffy and round.

Its long tail whipped behind it as it bounded across the tunnel wall with impossible speed.

Basa squinted, trying to understand what he was looking at when the creature suddenly launched itself through the air straight past his face.

He let out a startled shriek, nearly tumbling from his mother’s arms.

His father reacted instantly.

Stone groaned beneath his feet as he stepped forward, lowering himself into a defensive stance. His massive arms rose protectively, magma light flickering through the cracks in his granite skin.

His mother burst into laughter.

“Calm yourself, dear. It was only a troll mouse.”

His father did not relax immediately.

“That is no laughing matter,” he muttered darkly. “The war with the goblins still festers. Their raiders have struck our young before, so it's better to be ready than not at all.”

The warmth faded from the tunnel after those words.

Basa’s mother fell silent.

Only the sound of distant singing and dripping stone remained.

Basa didn't know what goblins were, but he understood one thing clearly.

His father hated them, which meant Basa hated them too.

As for the fluffy troll mice...

He decided they were probably harmless.

Even if they were terrifying.

At some point, the tunnels opened.

One moment the world was narrow stone and winding dark, the next the earth itself seemed to fall away around them.

Basa’s eyes widened.

The cavern was enormous.

It stretched farther than he could understand. The ceiling vanished into darkness high above, broken only by colossal crystal formations glowing like trapped stars.

Rivers of molten gold crawled through channels carved into the stone far below, painting the entire cavern in amber light.

There were homes everywhere. Great houses had been carved directly into the cavern walls, layered one atop another.

Some were smooth and elegant, their entrances framed with glowing crystal lanterns. Others looked brutal and jagged, hacked straight from black stone with pillars.

Floating rock bridges drifted lazily through the open air between the houses.

Massive slabs, chained together with glowing runes, glided from house to house while armored figures crossed them, carrying tools, baskets, weapons, and children.

Basa was looking around so much he forgot to blink.

Along the lower terraces of some of the houses, vast mushroom gardens spread across carved platforms.

Towering fungi with pale, glowing caps swayed gently despite the still air, while smaller gardens bloomed with strange mosses and crystal flowers rooted directly into the stone.

Stone bridges spiraled along the cavern walls in impossible patterns, crossing over one another like thread.

And there were people so many people everywhere.

The cavern pulsed with life.

Deep voices echoed through the air alongside hammer strikes, laughter, chanting, and distant songs. Great furnaces roared somewhere below, their heat rolling upward through the city.

Basa stared at the people most of all.

They were creatures like him, yet different.

Some had skin as bright blue as polished sapphire, glowing faintly beneath the crystal light.

Others were soft ash gray, rough as old mountain stone.

Some gleamed black and glossy like obsidian after rain.

There were tall ones with long, heavy arms that dragged across the ground.

Massive ones that looked less like people and more like walking boulders wrapped in chains and armor.

One passed beneath them, carrying an entire wagon over his shoulder.

Another sat beside a furnace, shaping molten metal with bare hands.

Basa could only stare.

The kingdom felt endless.

And for the very first time since awakening, Basa understood.

This was home.