Tag Archives: wander

“My Kind”

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I was alone the first moment I opened my eyes. There was a dense forest outside my cave that I made my humble abode. The only living things around that I could talk to were the crows. They were wise and kind, I enjoyed their company.

One day I went down to the river bank, the water was still in the early morning and it was the first time I saw myself. I am not soft like the clouds or smooth like a flower petal. In fact, I am quite hard, bumpy and rigid. I would not be surprised if the mountain was my father.

I grew fast, soon I was as tall as the trees that once surrounded my cave. I say once because sometimes small, funny looking creatures would come and cut down some trees. It used to be that they took only five or six, but now they come in packs and create bald spots in the forest. The birds tell me not to get too close to them, they do not like my kind. That was not a problem because their sharp tools scared me, I only watched from afar. ‘Troll’ is what the creatures have named my kind, a wise crow once told me.

I no longer fit in my cave and I also do not become hungry as often. I eat once every three or four days. I catch large animals and I am glad I cannot talk to them. It would be very hard for me to eat them if they were pleading to be let go. The forest is disappearing and I am worried that the creatures will find me. I ask the crows where I could go and they tell me that they used to see some of my kind a few days walk from my cave. They warn me to stay close to the mountain side, not to wander into any fields and to walk quietly. I will eat tonight and leave tomorrow.

—Samantha Yip

“The Tale of the Not-So-Ugly Troll”

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In a mountainous Norwegian area lived a band of trolls. This group was no exception to the general rule that trolls were extremely ugly. They were big and disproportionate, with long arms, stumpy legs, and tiny heads that looked peculiar on their bodies. They had huge bulbous noses, yellow pointed teeth, and if they were lucky enough to have two eyes, they were too close together. If you could picture the most grotesque combination of parts in your mind, then that would be the “perfect” troll. The ugliest ones were also the scariest, and were the best at driving out unsuspecting humans who had wandered into troll territory. These humans often fled without taking their belongings with them, and so the trolls benefited from the food and other resources left behind. Thus, there was a troll hierarchy of sorts, with the ugliest trolls accumulating the most wealth.

However, there was one young troll who really did not fit in with the rest. Yes, he was still ugly, but almost comically so compared to the other trolls, and therefore he was quite an outcast. Most humans were even willing to fight versus flee when they saw him, and so he had a very difficult time stealing any of their goods. No matter how hard he tried to make himself uglier and scarier, nothing seemed to work, and so one day, this troll left home and began to wander through the mountains.

On the third day of his travels, he stumbled upon a small farm. He was very hungry but knew the chances of him scaring anyone enough to get any food were minimal, so he turned to go back the way he had entered. Suddenly he heard someone exclaim, “Hey!” He turned around and standing in front of him was a young boy, who was looking at him with a mix of curiosity and revulsion. “Wow!” the boy said, “Are you a troll? I’ve never seen anyone so ugly so you must be!” The troll was stunned by the fact that he had been called ugly. However, clearly he was not even able to scare a young boy, and this upset him so he said nothing.

The boy began to talk again, “I thought trolls were supposed to be scarier, have you ever scared anyone in your life?” The troll sadly replied that the only beings that had been truly scared of him were animals, and how miserable this had made his life. Noticing how sad the troll looked, the boy tried to think of something he could do. His face suddenly lit up and he said to the troll, “Wait right here, I have an idea!” He ran back towards the farm where his father was working in the barn and proceeded to explain his idea to him. Just the other evening, his father had been upset because yet another one of his goats had been eaten by a wolf that crept onto the farm. He tried his best to keep the herd safe, but nothing seemed to be working. The boy thought that maybe they could use the troll to scare off these wolves, and in return, they would feed him and give him an area of the farm to live on. The father was skeptical at first, but he was willing to try anything.

So the arrangement was made. And this troll, who had never felt useful in his life, was the perfect fit for the farm. He was not so scary that people on the farm had to worry, but the wolves certainly did. So goes the story of the not-so-ugly troll.

—Erika F.

“The Misjudged Tromsø Troll and the Helpful Norwegian Boy”

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Axel, a small boy who lived in Tromsø, Northern Norway, had just had his 16th birthday. He was well built for a young man of his age, and his crystal blue eyes glistened even in the darkest of winter nights. His mother and father owned a small bit of land tucked away at the foot of a large mountain facing the vast, mysterious Norwegian Sea. Axel would climb the mountain during much of his childhood, and look out across the empty waters in search of sea-battered Vikings on their exciting and eventful journeys. He dreamed of joining them one day.

But he knew his duty lay at his family’s home. He had to stay and help with the fields and cattle – his mother and father wouldn’t be able to do it alone. He could only day-dream of the far away places those ships could take him to. He could only dream of the lush, green forests, and freshwater springs that may be found on the other side of the mountain. His golden locks blew in the wind as he sat atop a small ledge protruding from the mountain. He looked across the sea and said thought to himself aloud, “One day, I will leave Tromsø and go on some great adventure.”

The rock beneath him began to tremble. Axel jumped up in surprise. He braced himself for the possibility of a bear or monstrous creature lurking behind him. No such creature appeared. He began to drop his hands at his sides, when the trembling started up again – this time much more significantly than before. The slab of rock that Axel was sitting on began to lift itself. Axel nimbly hopped into a near-by tree, frightened that a bear might be coming out from under the ledge.

The rock kept lifting itself up until it was standing vertically. A face, dotted with small boulders and shrubs, extended from the other side of the rock slab – the truly and utterly ugly face of a mountain troll. It had a large, drooping nose, and sad, half-closed eyes that seemed to have never seen the sunlight. Its mouth gnawed on a few falling sticks from the shaken trees above. Axel, still perched in the nearby tree, observed with awe-struck eyes. A gasp escaped from his small lips. The troll turned slowly to where the sound had come from. He brought a large tree-trunk arm up to his rock-slab forehead and scratched with his root-like fingers. He spoke with a deep, rumbling voice that shook the trees and gravel around him.

“Yes, I too would like to travel. To leave this desolate mountain in Tromsø and be one with the southern sea winds.” He looked Axel straight in the eyes and continued to gnaw on the branches and leaves protruding from his mouth, lazily and sleepily he slowed the circular motion of his jaw. Axel, still frozen with fright and surprise, only managed a muttered reply.

“Your-you’re… You’re a troll! You’re a Tromsø Troll! The beast – the beast that wanders the Tromsø hills in search for children and livestock!” His eyes widened and he gripped a nearby branch in case he needed a weapon.

“Alas, dear boy, I am not said creature. Your people seem to tell tales of enchantment and exaggeration. I am the Tromsø Troll, but I do not wander nor do I eat children and livestock. That would be rude and unhealthy. No, no. You are mistaken.” The Troll gave an exasperated sigh and turned to face the now-calm Norwegian Sea.

“If you are not the monstrous troll I’ve heard a great deal about, then who are you?” Axel crept down from his perch and approached the Troll, climbed up his rock-slab back and sat near a small shrub on the Troll’s left shoulder.

“I am the Troll of the Tromsø Hills, forever confined to this region because of my duty to the Bodojonk Trolls. It is my task to guard and protect these mountains from harm and danger. I must sit here and keep a watchful eye on the seas, take notice of any suspicious rustle in the leaves of my trees or the movement of the pebbles beneath my feet. I protect you and your family, your cattle and crops, from the Trondersky Trolls, of the Southern region. They hunt these lands. And they destroy anything and everything in their path on their search for food.” The Tromsø Troll spat out his chewed debris and sat back against the weight of the mountain behind him. Axel had to grab onto the Troll’s large tree ears so that he didn’t fall to his death.

“So you are misjudged? My people have thought you to be dangerous and harmful. We send out our best men to hunt for signs of you, for signs of trolls that may come and destroy our seaside village. I must tell them that these are lies!”

“You can tell them what you want, dear boy, but it will not free me of this duty. I must wait here. I am sworn to this mountain. I cannot leave as you one day dream to do.” He let out another long sign, and they weight of his breathe bent all the trees in the valley below.

“Then I, too, shall wait with you, friendly Troll,” Axel said, with a nod of his head.

“Do you really mean it?” The Troll stood up so suddenly that Axel fell to the ground, nearly landing on the jagged rocks below. The Troll swooped his large root-like hands and caught the boy just in time. He scooped him up towards his large, ugly face and spoke softly as to not blow him over with his powerful wind-breathe.

“You would stay here and keep me company during my watch? I am very lonely up here.”

“I will come up once a day, after I’ve herded my cattle, and keep you company until sundown,” Axel promised, with his right hand over his heart.

And this marked the beginning of an unusual – but beautiful – friendship between a small Norwegian boy, and a friendly Tromsø Troll. Today, you can see the Troll’s silhouette in the Tromsø mountains – a slab of grey rock protruding from the face of the cliff and a small human-like rock figure sitting on his left shoulder. Together, they watch the mysterious waters of the Norwegian Sea for unfriendly faces who may threaten their sweet, small town of Tromsø.

—Zoe Arthur