The forest gradually opened as they moved forward, the towering trees thinning into shorter, scattered growth.
The ground beneath their feet shifted as well—soft soil giving way to packed stone and dry earth.
There was no clear road, yet the signs of passage were unmistakable: worn patches, broken roots, and shallow grooves carved by constant movement.
Kaizer noticed it first.
“The ground’s harder here.”
Humbaba gave a small nod.
“You’re getting close.”
“To the village?”
“…Yeah.”
A few steps later, Kaizer slowed, his attention pulling forward before dropping toward the ground.
“Wait… there are holes.”
Humbaba didn’t stop.
“Not holes.
Entrances.”
Kaizer looked again, this time with focus—and understood.
What had seemed like uneven terrain revealed itself as carved tunnels embedded into the earth.
Some were narrow, barely wide enough for one person, while others stretched broad enough for several to pass through side by side.
Wooden supports and fitted stone reinforced their structure.
Above ground, the village spread outward.
The buildings weren’t tall like those of the ogres.
Instead, they were wide and grounded—constructed from thick stone and packed soil.
Some had flat roofs, others curved slightly, each shaped with clear purpose rather than decoration.
“This place is big,” Kaizer muttered.
And it was larger than he had expected.
Paths intersected between structures, occasionally dipping into slopes or steps that led down into the tunnels below.
Trolls moved through the village with steady rhythm, carrying tools, stone, and food.
It didn’t feel crowded.
Just… alive.
“They live underground too?” Kaizer asked.
“Mostly,” Humbaba replied.
“Surface is for work.
Underground is for living.”
As they walked deeper, the trolls began to notice them.
Some slowed.
Others glanced briefly before continuing.
A few spoke quietly among themselves.
“Ogre.”
“That’s Humbaba.”
“He’s back.”
There was no tension—only recognition.
But some of them lingered on Kaizer.
He felt it.
“They’re staring.”
Humbaba shrugged.
“You’re new.”
“You’re new too.”
“Not here.”
Before Kaizer could respond, a voice called out.
“Humbaba.”
They turned.
A figure stepped from one of the larger stone houses.
Grisha This story is hosted at g.com.
She approached with steady steps, posture straight, her presence calm but commanding.
Though smaller than the ogres, she carried a weight that naturally drew attention.
“You made it,” she said.
Humbaba nodded.
“Took longer than expected.”
Her gaze shifted to Kaizer.
She didn’t speak immediately—only observed.
“This is the child,” she said at last.
Kaizer met her eyes.
“…Hi.”
A faint smile touched her expression.
“You’re younger than I thought.”
Kaizer blinked.
“You’re smaller than I thought.”
Humbaba let out a short laugh.
Grisha didn’t react much, but there was a subtle hint of amusement.
“That’s fine,” she said.
“Honest words are easier to trust.”
She turned slightly, gesturing toward the village.
“You’re both welcome here.”
Nearby trolls nodded in quiet agreement.
“Come,” she continued.
“You’ll need rest.”
The house was simple but solid.
Stone walls, low ceiling, a single main room with a small space set aside for sleeping.
It held warmth well—steady and grounded.
“It’s nice,” Kaizer said.
“It’ll do,” Humbaba replied.
Grisha gave a small nod.
“Wash and rest.
Food will be ready soon.”
After cleaning up, Kaizer stepped outside again.
Humbaba remained behind.
“Don’t wander too far.”
“I won’t.”
The village felt different up close.
More alive.
Trolls worked with quiet efficiency—cutting stone, reinforcing tunnels, carrying supplies.
Their movements were steady, purposeful.
Children ran between them, weaving through space without disrupting anything.
Kaizer watched them.
Then—
“…Food.”
The smell pulled him forward.
He followed it to an open cooking area, where large slabs of stone rested over low-burning fires.
Meat roasted slowly while thick roots were sliced and cooked alongside it.
A troll woman noticed him.
“You’re the guest.”
“Yeah.”
She handed him a plate.
“Eat.”
He didn’t hesitate.
“Eat more.”
He did.
By the time he finished, a group of children had gathered nearby, watching him.
“You eat a lot,” one said.
“Yeah.”
“You’re not a troll.”
“I know.”
“You’re not an ogre either.”
Kaizer paused briefly.
“…I live with ogres.”
They exchanged looks—then one grinned.
“You wanna play?”
“…Play?”
“Yeah.”
Kaizer hesitated for only a moment before nodding.
“Okay.”
They ran.
The games were simple.
Running.
Chasing.
Climbing.
Kaizer stumbled once—but got back up.
“You’re slow.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
He ran again.
Faster this time.
Laughter followed.
He laughed too.
For a while— nothing else mattered.
Elsewhere, Humbaba sat across from Grisha.
“You didn’t come just to visit,” she said.
“No.”
She waited.
“…Things are changing.”
“They usually are.”
Humbaba met her gaze.
“This time it’s different.”
She leaned back slightly.
“…Then tell me.”
And he did.
Outside, Kaizer collapsed onto the ground, breathing heavily.
“Again,” one of the children said.
“No… I’m tired.”
They laughed.
“You said you weren’t slow.”
Kaizer pushed himself up.
“I’m not.”
“Then run.”
He stood.
“…Okay.”
And ran.