Chapter 53: Chapter 53: Parseltongue
Though their plan involved letting Thorin's company face a little hardship, Gandalf and Kael still had a duty to perform: scouting the path ahead. The two journeyed on foot, but their pace was anything but slow.
Especially when near Gandalf. Under the influence of Narya, the Ring of Fire, Kael felt no trace of fatigue, a constant, subtle warmth invigorating his every step. He could only feel a quiet envy for the wizard. He desperately wanted such a powerful artifact for himself, but it was a futile wish. The three Elven Rings belonged to three of the most powerful beings in Middle-earth; obtaining one was an impossibility.
It was no wonder Saruman the White had grown jealous, a rift forming between him and Gandalf after Círdan the Shipwright gifted Narya to the Grey Wizard instead of him. Who wouldn't covet such a treasure?
As Kael's mind wandered, he thought of the One Ring. It was currently in the clutches of Gollum deep within the Misty Mountains, but it wouldn't be long before fate delivered it into Bilbo's hands. He found himself curious about its true power. It was said to be mightier than the three Elven Rings combined, yet in Bilbo's possession, its only apparent ability was to grant invisibility.
The thought was fleeting. The moment he recalled the Ring's corrupting influence—a power so absolute that even Gandalf and Galadriel refused to touch it—he dismissed the notion entirely. He was not arrogant enough to believe he possessed a will stronger than theirs.
Kael and Gandalf followed the main road until nightfall, eventually coming upon a small, nameless village. Their expressions grew grim. The village had been ravaged, and there wasn't a soul in sight. The destruction was fresh; whatever had happened here, it had happened recently.
Had the villagers met a terrible end, or had they managed to escape? They hoped for the latter.
But as they walked deeper into the desolate settlement, the sight of dark bloodstains on the ground and undisturbed furniture inside the cottages painted a grim picture. Their hearts sank. It was far more likely the people here had been taken.
Gandalf knelt, examining the ground with a practiced eye. "The destruction is immense," he said, his voice heavy. "And these giant footprints... this is the work of Trolls."
They left the village in somber silence. Along the road, they discovered several more settlements, each one bearing the same scars of destruction, each one unnervingly empty. The weight of the tragedy grew heavier with every step.
"The original plan is abandoned," Gandalf declared, his voice firm. "Our priority now is to find these Trolls. They have abducted many people, but it has not been long. There may still be survivors to rescue."
Kael nodded in agreement, his own resolve hardening.
They veered off the road, venturing deep into the Trollshaws and following the massive tracks. They pressed on until midnight, pushing deeper into the woods. Just as they felt they were closing in on their quarry, the path opened into a vast, murky swamp.
Gandalf's brow furrowed, his gaze sweeping over the stagnant water. "The trail ends here."
The swamp was a quagmire of mud and murky pools, and the Trolls' footprints vanished beneath the surface. Kael fell silent. He recalled a pointing spell from his world that could guide him, but it was magic he had yet to master. He had the will, but not the way.
Just as despair began to set in, a familiar presence brushed against his mind.
Hogwarts Check-in System: Location detected—Trollshaws. Check in?
Kael's eyes widened. Without hesitation, he commanded inwardly, Check in!
Check-in successful. Congratulations on acquiring the Parseltongue talent!
Parseltongue? Kael was stunned. Of all the possible rewards, this was the last one he'd expected. He waited a moment, but felt no immediate change, no new knowledge flooding his mind. Had it failed?
"Alas," Gandalf sighed, his shoulders slumping with disappointment. "Kael, we can only trust to luck now. We must hope we find the Trolls' lair soon."
"Wait, Gandalf," Kael said, a flicker of an idea taking root. "I have a method we can try. I'm not sure if it will work, but it's worth a shot."
"You have a way?" Gandalf's eyes lit up, his gaze locking onto Kael with renewed hope.
Feeling a bit self-conscious, Kael nodded. "It's just a try."
He turned to face the swamp. It was said that such places were home to all manner of serpents. Focusing his intent, Kael imagined himself as a snake and called out, "Is there a snake here?"
Kael cringed, the sound feeling clumsy and human on his tongue. But from Gandalf's perspective, what he heard was something else entirely. A series of sharp, sibilant hisses echoed from Kael, a sound imbued with a strange, cold power that coiled in the air like a striking viper.
"What language is that?" Gandalf asked, his surprise evident. "It sounds exactly like a serpent's hiss."
A wave of elation washed over Kael. It had worked. "It's Parseltongue," he explained, unable to keep the excitement from his voice. "The language of snakes. It allows me to communicate with them."
As if on cue, the swamp came alive. The water rippled and the reeds swayed as countless snakes—water snakes, vipers, even massive pythons—emerged from their hiding places, all slithering towards Kael. The sheer number of them, a writhing carpet of scales, was enough to make one's skin crawl.
Gandalf watched, astonished. "I suspect it's more than simple communication, is it not?" he murmured, his eyes wide.
Kael barely heard him. He hadn't expected such a response, and the sudden cacophony of hissing voices flooded his senses.
"Human! Was it you who called? How do you speak the ancient tongue?" a water snake hissed, raising its head.
"I was with my mate, human! Why have you summoned us? I have a mind to sink my fangs into you!" a vibrant green viper threatened, though it kept a wary distance.
"So hungry… have not eaten in a moon… Human, give me the old one to eat. I will serve you well…" rumbled a colossal python, its body as thick as a barrel and its great head swaying hungrily.
The overlapping hisses were overwhelming. "Be quiet!" Kael commanded, the words leaving his mouth not as speech, but as a sharp, commanding hiss.
Instantly, a hush fell over the swamp. The serpents, compelled by a power they could not resist, fell silent and lowered their heads.
Kael took a moment to adapt to the new talent, then addressed the silent host. "Which of you knows the lair of the Trolls? Lead us there at once!"
The ravenous python was the first to stir. "I know the stone-men's lair," it hissed, its voice a low rumble. "Give me food, and I will show you."
Kael raised an eyebrow. A clever one, this snake. He smiled. "Lead the way. After we have dealt with the Trolls, you may feast upon their remains. How does that sound?"
"Truly? You can kill the stone-men?" the python asked, its voice thick with doubt.
"Of course," Kael replied smoothly. "I am a wizard. Why else would I be speaking with you?"
"Then I will trust you!" the python agreed. Its massive head, as large as a serving bowl, turned to fix a covetous gaze on Gandalf. "But why wait? Give me the old one beside you now," the serpent bargained, its tongue flicking out. "I know many lairs. Lairs with shiny things… things your kind covets. I can show you all of them… for a price."
Kael's mouth twitched. He glanced at Gandalf, who stood by, blissfully unaware of the negotiations for his life. It seemed the snake had a brain, but not a particularly bright one.
"Enough nonsense," Kael hissed, cutting the conversation short. "Lead the way. Now!"
Unable to disobey a direct command in Parseltongue, the great python bowed its head and turned, slithering into the swamp to show them the path. The other snakes, their purpose served, dispersed back into the murky water.
Kael turned to Gandalf. "Let's go. This one knows the way to the Troll-hole. We just need to follow."
With a flick of his wand, a bridge of solid stone formed over the mud and stagnant water. Kael stepped onto it, following the python into the darkness.
"Marvelous magic," Gandalf exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "And a wondrous language!"
He stepped onto the stone bridge and followed closely behind.
(End of Chapter)
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