Reborn From the Cosmos

ARC 1-The Enchanted Forest-Part 16

I finally manage to cut the troll’s head off. Then I devour the rest of him and waste no time taking my new form.

I am getting used to the way I see the world changing. My vantage point is higher and trolls are colorblind. Greens are coming across as red, blues as violets. They don’t have the greatest vision. Details are sketchy but they have decent hearing and an incredible sense of smell. I am astounded I can smell anything beyond my odor. Certain scents just stand out while others are regulated to the background. Luckily, I belong to the latter.

I like this body. I see what Kierra means about power. My muscles have muscles. Just doing basic stretches shows off an incredible definition. Hells, I could crush rocks on my arm. I hit my abdomen with an open hand and it feels like slapping an iron pan.

My hands run over my body, taking stock. The short hairs that covers my body is rough to the touch but my dark mane is soft, the thin hairs shifting with the slightest breeze. My tusks are spotless ivory. Apparently, the yellowing is an effect of poor hygiene, not natural coloring. That combined with my wine red skin creates a pleasing contrast. And my snout-like nose doesn’t jut out the way I would have thought. Hmm. I wonder if there is a pool of water I can gaze into nearby.

But no time for that now. Taking the head of my victim, I carry it to the base of a tree and begin to dig. My hands are equipped with short claws that are good for digging through the tough dirt. Sigh. This would be so much easier if I somehow managed to take this thing’s affinity along with its form. Fire affinity casters don’t have much use outside of combat. Such is life.

The sun is just starting to go down when I get my hole to a depth of my liking, deep enough scavengers won’t dig it up. I put the troll head down and pack the dirt all around it. Then I carve a circle into the tree above it to mark the spot.

It’d be better if I had a full bladder. I’ve often seen the trolls relieving themselves in the surrounding area of their den to warn off others.

Thinking about it makes me grab ahold of my new appendage. It is a strange feeling, having something dangling between my legs, but at the same time, it is quite natural. I seem to gain an understanding of a form when I take it. Otherwise, I would have fallen on my face when I turned into a wolf for the first time.

Unfortunately, I don’t have time to do more research. The sun is going down. The other trolls will be gathering at their, no, our den and I need to be there to claim my dinner.

-

When I get back to the den, the other trolls have gathered. I have a frightening moment when all their eyes turn to me and I am sure they will see through my transformation. But then they back off respectfully, allowing me to choose my dinner. The sight of raw meat should turn my stomach but to my new nose, it smells quite appetizing.

I choose three of the five juicy rabbits that are lying on the ground as the other creatures are foreign to me and retreat to my area to eat. Behind me, I hear the sound of growls and fists hitting flesh as they fight for what’s left. Ah. It is good to be king.

When I finish, I make my way down into the den. I was prepared for them to be a confusing network but I should have known better. The walls are crudely done. The den is comprised of two rooms that branch off from the main tunnel. I sniff about them and discover that the smaller room is a private room that I, as the leader, have claimed and the larger one is shared by the others.

I go into my room and stretch out on the hard earth.

Sigh. This is so disappointing. I only came here because I thought there would be something to learn about the trolls’ culture that I could only observe while they were underground.

But before I go back, I want to be sure I can hack it. After all that I’ve gone through, I know there is a difference between thinking you can do something and pulling it off. A day or two as a troll should prove I’m ready. Ugh. This isn’t going to be fun. I hope you understand how much effort I’m putting in for you, my forlorn elf. If not, I’m going to make sure you do.

Sigh. The things people do for love.

-

I wake up to find that the ground isn’t any more comfortable now than when I went to sleep on it. I stretch my stiff body, what I think is going to be a yawn coming out as a soft roar as my bones pop. I can hear the other trolls moving about the den, heading for the entrance. Must be time for morning roll call.

I crawl through the tunnels, squinting as I emerge into the sunlight. The other trolls are ready and waiting. They’re scratching themselves and licking their palms before running them across their bodies.

Saints above, don’t tell me this is what passes for hygiene? I think it is. I also think I’m going to be ill when one of them scrapes out a piece of foul-smelling meat from between their teeth. At least they’re thorough.

I have no idea what triggers it but suddenly, the air is tense. I notice it when the trolls start pressing closer. It’s already that time, huh? Here we go.

I step back so I can see all my opponents, eyeing them the same way they eye me. I’m not a fighter. Casters don’t brawl in the mud like animals. But my training with Kierra has improved my reflexes and overall awareness.

I’m confident I can dodge a punch. I also have a few surprises that they aren’t ready for but I rather not have to use them. That would defeat the whole point of this mess and no matter how dumb these things are, every living creature can recognize something different.

The first troll makes his move, throwing a wide punch to my head. I can see it coming a mile away but only just manage to sidestep it. This body is clumsy. I almost trip over my big feet.

Of course, another troll sees this and takes advantage. The world tilts as a troll slams into me, knocking me to the ground. Copying a move from the day before, I grab the offender by the tusks and headbutt him with all my strength.

Okay. Bad idea. My vision is swimming and my head is throbbing. On the bright side, my opponent isn’t moving. I roll the troll off me and get back to my feet just in time to see one of the three remaining trolls pick up a log and brain one of the others.

Whoa, whoa, whoa! Weapons are allowed? They must be because the log wielding troll hits his opponent twice more before the third troll snatches the log and slaps it across the first wielder’s back. It breaks, wood splinters flying everywhere as the troll collapses. He’s down for the count.

And then there were two.

I size up my opponent. He’s almost as big as I am with mottled green and brown skin. Short golden hair makes him look lighter than he is. His long mane would probably shine like a field of straw under the summer sun if it weren’t dirtied by mud, guts, and dead foliage. I bet that looks weird through troll eyes. The strange colors were too much and I swapped them out for my human ones yesterday.

I like it. Less striking than the skin I’m wearing now but more suited for the forest environment. Red just stands out too much.

This one is more cautious than the others. He watches me while flexing his large hands; huffing and puffing. This isn’t going to be quick like the others. My first head-to-head battle.

With a roar, the mottled troll comes barreling toward me and I raise my fists clumsily.

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