He still remembered that day. The day he went against everything he was taught and meant to become in the future. More than 400 years ago...

He was still just a whelp back then. Just a bit more than a century old. He was not old enough to lift even the basic blade used for battle. Yes, he was trained but with hand-to-hand fighting and the most basic swordsmanship. He was happy and wanted to please everyone, his family, especially his father. He was taught and watched over by the best there were and was being prepared for war. He was to become leader and stand next to his father and older brother on the battlefield.

"He'd become a splendid warrior." "It would be an understatement! He'll be at least as tall as his father, maybe even more!" "Yeah, he's this tall already and so strong! Imagine when he grows to adulthood!"

They'd say such things about him and he's blush faintly at the praise, although it was true. Both his brother and father were very strong, he could indeed easily overpower others his age and was at least a head taller if not more than the other whelps his age group. Yes, he might not be as bulky as most trolls, but wasn't inferior to them. He was built more for speed, agility and endurance, rather than bure brute strength. Don't underestimate him because of his thinner and longer limbs, he packed quite the punch in his lithe body.

Back then he wasn't allowed to wander too far off because of the constant battles and the danger it posed to whelps, which were much weaker than adult trolls. But he was curious, so he tried to find a way to sneak out one night. He wanted to see a real battle for once.

'Only a few hours and I'll be back, it'll be as if nothing happened!' - he said to himself.

Oh, how WRONG was he. He managed to sneak out and wandered the forest near their cavern. He stayed hidden and quiet in order to be unnoticed by enemies. Soon, he heard the sounds of clanging blades and battle roars. Like an excited puppy, he followed the noise. The small goat path he went through led him to the edge of the forest. It was a hill with a sharp drop at the end. A perfect place to observe those below and not be seen. He crouched as close to the ground as he could and crept forward. He looked down, towards the valley where the battle was.

He wished he hadn't done so. There was so much chaos, pain, death and desperation to live, as troll after troll were crippled or killed. With a trembling legs and hands, he returned back. All the training and mock fights now seemed repulsive.

'I don't want to be part of THAT! I-I can't! It's terrible and I don't want to do this!'

After that day, he changed. He no longer felt pleasure in training, no longer wanted to please everyone, he didn't want to meet their expectations. He then learned of the wonders of magic, something wonderful yet dangerous, and he wanted to study it. He had seen a few humans use it during one of his secret trips, but unfortunately there was no teacher at his home, so he temporarily left his desire to study.

'When I get older, I'll find a way to become a mage!' - he swore.

Then THAT day came. The battle of Killahead bridge. It was an all against all final battle. He and the other whelps were also brought but stayed at the sidelines. It wasn't safe but it was the best at the moment. He hated it and wanted to get away, to run away. His chance came when the body of a rather large troll was thrown in their direction. The other whelps scattered in all directions and he ran. With all his strength Jatar ran as far away from the battle as he could. He headed through the forest and up the mountain, this might have been the fastest he had ever ran, Jatar was just a blur as he dashed past trees. He lasted quite a while before he ran out of stamina. He panted as his legs gave out and he fell to the ground. A beam of light then illuminated the sky. A certain sense of dread filled him and he pushed himself to move forward.

'No matter who won, I won't have a place back with father, nor would the other trolls accept me. It's better for me to leave as soon as I can.' - Jatar thought as he made his way down the mountain.

He was no longer the proud second son of Gunmar, the moment he decided to run, the threw all that away.

'Jatar the Coward, Jatar the Disgrace...If they know I'm alive they'd certainly call me that way for however long I get to live.'

He was doomed either way, so he thought to get his escape to another level. When dawn came up, he hid in the hollow trunk of a big oak.

'Next destination, a human town!'

...............................................

A month later, Jatar could be seen sneaking on a ship. He had reached a big town near the sea with many large ships being loaded with goods to the "New world". His small size and human-like body shape made it easy for him to walk around without being noticed. He had to hide his skin, horns and glowing blue eyes but it was a small prize for him to pay in exchange for information. He had overheard a few drunk sailors talking how their ship "Galoope" was leaving for the New World and he decided that was his chance. He had heard stories about this new land and to him it sounded perfect. A nice place to start his life anew.

'Maybe I'd be able to finally learn to do some magic...' - he wondered as he hauled his heavy luggage on board.

He wore a long cloak, a pair of old boots and pants several sizes bigger to hide himself better and as emergency rations in case the journey took longer. Making no noise, he snuck down to the lowest level of the ship. It was dark, moist and smelled like stale air, it was also full of crates full of goods and materials.

'This is perfect!'

He hid in the very end and made a small hidden place to sleep for himself. He made sure he brought what he'd need. Books of magic he'd saved from being burned by the Chu-r-ch, check, food, check, water jugs, check, his dagger, check! Everything was there.

True to their words, the ship set sail the very next morning. Jatar had been woken by the rocking but he calmed down when he realized he wasn't attacked. Through a small hole he watched as the shore disappeared.

'Goodbye. Welcome new life.'

===Big time skip===

A very long time had passed since the day he first arrived in America. How things changed always amazed him. Jatar would always stop and admire the ever changing landscape of this new land. From the native tribes, from which he learned many things about nature and rituals, European settlers, from them he learned science and construction, he even met some nice witches that decided to tutor him in magic and potions after seeing his abysmal performance.

"You taught yourself?! You are lucky you didn't loose your life young troll. You either have amazing talent or unmatched luck. Come with me and I'll teach you what REAL magic should be like!" - Lucinda told him 247 years ago.

Thanks to her and her clansmen he learned how to cast spells without a staff, how to brew many useful potions and even craft spells of his own. He also did the ONE thing no troll had managed to do before. He walked under the sunlight, unharmed! He used a spell to protect him from the deadly rays. It had to be re-cast every 6 hours but it was one of his biggest achievements, yet!

After Lucinda died, he left the clan and continued his wandering on the new continent. A lot of his time was spent traveling, sleeping, training his magic and most importantly, avoiding other trolls and changelings the best he could. He had a few close calls but thankfully was never discovered.

One night he was wandering through the woods somewhere in California when he heard sobbing. He knew he shouldn't be seen but he approached. Was it the fact that he hadn't had any proper contact for the past 100 years or the fact they sounded so desperate and broken? He still doesn't know. He carefully made his way towards the sound. As Jatar peered from the trees, he saw a young woman. She had brownish hair, glasses and looked horrible. Her eyes were red and puffy, cheeks were stained by tears and her clothes were covered in dirt. She clutched a half-empty bottle of whiskey in one hand as she cried while sitting under a tree. He should have walked away but instead approached her.

"G-good evening?" - he smiled shyly.

She looked at him while sniffling. They stared at each other for a bit, he was growing more and more nervous by the second.

'Damn! I shouldn't have done this! How can I be so stupid?!' - he berated himself.

"Gahahahaha! What'cha doin' starin there *hic* c'mere and have a sip! It's good!" - she said obviously too drunk and sad to think.

He slowly made his way there and sat next to her, their size difference even more obvious. He awkwardly took the bottle offered to him and took a sip, cringing at the taste.

'How can humans even drink this?!'

He gave the bottle back and she took a big swing of it.

"So.... What are you doing here in the forest in the middle of the night miss?" - he asked her.

She then proceeded to spill her whole life's misery out. How she struggled returning the 'dreadful student loans', whatever that was, how she got married and because of it her parents turned their backs to her and finally, how her husband had cheated her not even 2 years in their marriage. He had left and said nothing. In the end she fell asleep on his side. He sighed and looked for her wallet. He had kept up with modern improvements and knew that people's addresses were on the documents in their wallets. He carried her bridal style to her home and intended to leave but then he saw the condition of her home. It was dirty, trash and clothes strewn around. He grimaced, Jatar didn't like dirty houses at all. Yes, they were a good place to find a meal or something useful, but living in them was out of question. He muttered a few curses in Trollspeak and started clean up. He ate bits of trash here and there, folded clothes, swept the floor and etc.

"How can a person stand living in such a pigsty?! Can't you even clean after yourself woman? ..." - he continued, watching out to not hit his head in one of the lamps, doorways or the ceiling.

He had grown in size the past 400 or so years. His horns were just a few centimeters shy of touching the ceiling.

"Good morning... and sorry for being so messy." - Barbara's voice sounded from behind.

He froze and slowly turned around and looked at her. Her hair was still messy but with no more leaves in, courtesy of Jatar, her glasses were gone, there were bags visible under her eyes and she was holding an empty coffee pot.

"Do you want some coffee?" - she asked tiredly.

"D-don't know. I've never had a coffee..." - he answered after thinking for a bit.

"So, for two then."

She filled the pot and set it on the stove. She went to him, his blue eyes looking at her warily.

"Don't worry, I won't bite you...haha..." she let out a hollow laugh "Let me help you."

"OK?"

By the time the coffee was ready, they had cleaned the living room. Jatar sat on the coach, springs and wood groaning lightly because of the weight. She came with two cups, one black and other with a lot of cream and a bowl of sugar cubes. Barbara sat across from him after she set the coffee on the small table. He sniffed the unfamiliar drink, he took a sip and grimaced at the terrible taste.

"Don't like coffee?"

"I don't think this beverage is drinkable for me." - he said shyly.

Silence. She drank from her cup and he awkwardly sat there, looking around the room.

"So... you aren't afraid or freaking out, huh?" - he first broke the silence.

"Nah. I was really freaked out and until a while ago I hoped you were some sort of alcohol-induced dream. After the coffee though..." - she said in a calm tone.

"Ah, OK."

........" So... what do you plan to do now Mr...?"

"Jatar, my name is Jatar."

"Nice to meet you, I'm-"

"Barbara Lake. I know."

"Sigh... guess me telling you my whole life story in a drunk stupor last night wasn't a dream, huh?"

"Yeah, it was quite the experience... he he. It was the first time a human has talked to me while dead drunk."

"Ugh! Don't remind me. I think my grandkids would have headache if this goes on..."

"Why? Are you sick or..."

"No. It's a figure of speech. I thought you'd be gone by the time I'm up and you know."

"Oh, OK... I can't leave, yet. Yes, I can walk under the sun but being unnoticed when you are big and black 'monstrous being'."

She stared at him as he did the air quotes and all.

...................

"So... are you some sort of demon or something?"

"No, I'm a troll."

"A troll?"

She looked him over. He was indeed big and scary looking but not threatening in the same time. He had laid the weapons, two daggers that were like swords to her, on the floor. She had expected a troll to be something else and not like him. Heck, although a bit outdated, his clothes were in pristine condition, he currently even smelled better than her.

'Herbs and spices. A nice combination.' - her brain supplied.

"I've gathered the trash, can you go and throw it away while I clean the kitchen?" - he said, holding a full bag in his hand.

"Oof! This is HEAVY!" - she was surprised how much it weighted.

"Wouldn't have been if there wasn't so much trash!"

"Sorry Joe! You act like my mom! What a clean freak."

"I heard that!"

===A week later===

"Jatar! Wake up! It's evening already." - Barbara shouted from upstairs.

Jatar groaned and got up from his sleeping place. He crawled out of the pile of blankets on top of the mattress. He stretched, back popping, and yawned. He stood up and shook his stiff limbs. Jatar went up the steps and leaned down in order to not hit the door frame again. Barbara was waiting for him on the dining table.

"I told you, you don't need to wait for me each night. Don't you have a shift coming in about an hour or two?" - he asked her, brow raised.

"I do this only because I want to. Not to mention it's nice to eat with a good company."

He chuckled at her response. He'd been awkward company at best. He was still tense but was relaxing a bit in her presence. Now that he reflected upon it, he HAD stayed here longer than intended. Every time he wanted to leave, he'd tell himself "One more night won't hurt." And a week passed in a flash.

"What's so funny Jatar?"

"You say that, even though you barely know anything about me."

"I know you are a nice person, I'm a relatively good judge of character. At least I think so."

"See! I could be deceiving you and waiting to eat you."

"Please, I've seen you bite clean trough steel. I doubt if you want to eat me, you'd wait and not do it now."

He decided to not say anything and sat on the floor, eating his meal (scraps, raw meat and few old socks).

"So...why do you not want to talk about your past?"

"I just don't want to."

"Come on! You know my story; I think it's fair to know yours."

"Sigh... My father... and brother. I'm not very proud of who they are."

"Wow, you got family issues. I don't see what's so bad. You can just talk it out, right?"

"It's NOT that simple! Sorry..." he took a calming breath "My brother, Bular, and my father, Gunmar, are what you'd call evil. I was the second son of Gunmar the Black and they expected a lot of things of me but instead I ran."

"Ran? From what?"

"From war." She gasped and waited "During the so called 'last battle' at Killahead bridge, around 400 years ago, my father's army lost and was sent to the Darklands. Well, only me and Bular remain here from all the Gum-gums from what I've heard. I've been hiding ever since because I'm now the coward son that ran away, so there's no place for me with my brother. I'm also a child of Gunmar, so no other troll tribe or community would accept me. I'd be chased out the moment they see me or learn of my parentage. In the past I may have been able to sneak in and out but now I look too much like my family and would be recognized almost immediately."

"I see...Wait! Did you say 400 years? Just how old are you?"

"I'm 584 at the moment."

"Wow, so old...is this young or old in troll standard?"

"I'm quite young in troll age and still dread the fact that I have a room to grow taller."

"Really? You barely fit in the house right now! I won't have to get a new house soon, right?"

"No, no! We trolls grow much slower than humans, in fact as we get older, we age slower. I'm in that 'tender' age group that are big enough to take care of themselves but can't take important decisions. I believe you call them teens."

"You are a teen?! Early or late teens?"

"Don't know exactly. Somewhere in the middle."

"Wow... this is crazy."

"Don't you have to go somewhere?"

"Ah, work! I almost forgot."

She shoved her dinner in her mouth and rushed to take her things.

"Forgot your food!" - Jatar was holding a paper bag.

She grabbed it and ran for the car.

"Thank you!"

===3 months later===

Jatar had officially moved to live with Barbara. At first he was denying it but the moment he moved from the basement to the second bedroom, he couldn't. He was staying and had started to think of the place as a home. He really liked Barbara as a friend and someone he could share with. He had moved his other possessions in the basement, turning it in a small workshop for potions and spell crafting.

He still remembered THAT conversation he had with Barbara.

=Flashback=

"Hey, Jatar, if you don't like your name and being associated with your family, why don't you change it?"

"What?!"

"There's this thing when we humans want another name, we go and get it changed after filling some documents."

"Really?" - he would be lying if he said he wasn't excited.

"Yes, so I thought of giving you a new name. What about Joe? I've been calling you that from time to time."

"Do I look like a Joe? I've been calling you mom too but you aren't my mother, are you?"

"No, I guess not. Then you think of something."

He looked around and his eyes landed on a picture of James Lake.

"How about... Jim?"

"Really? From all names, you pick that one?"

"Got anything better?"

"Hmm... now that I think about it, you kinda look like a Jim."

"What do you mean by that?!"

"Nothing. You just look like a Jim."

He sulked for the whole day.

=end=

Without noticing, Barbara had become a part of his family, not biological, but still family. He hadn't really felt his age since he learned magic, but now she challenged him, provoked him to feel more. He made small mistakes here and there, dropping his mature mask and she encouraged it. Soon he was thinking of better times to come.

'Living here, this close to the Heartstone might not be as bad as I thought.' - Jatar, now named Jim thought to himself.

To be continued? You decide!