Hey everyone, here's the long-awaited final chapter of Part II. Sorry for the wait but I hope it's worth it! Let me know what you think at purplejubilee17@gmail.com. I've got a mailing list there you can sign up for so you'll know when Part III starts and also be informed of anything I do between now and then.
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<3 PurpleJubilee Without further ado... The conclusion to Part II
After Earth Went Dark; Part II
Chapter 12
"Easy now" The unfamiliar voice said soothingly. Tyr felt a gentle pressure on his shoulder, pushing him back downward. His first instinct was to fight against it, but the reassuring voice came back.
"Don't try to get up yet. Give it some time."
As his vision cleared, Tyr's mind rebelled against what he saw. The room was stark white and brightly lit. He had spent so much time in rooms just like this. It was akin to the experience of waking from spending what felt like a hundred years in one of the chronopods.
Trying once again to force himself to a seated position, he felt a sharp pain in his side and winced. A concerned face came into view, hovering over him. I was not one that he recognized.
"I really wouldn't do that. You're going to pop your stitches." It was a man's face; serious but not unfriendly. He wore glasses and his head was mostly bald.
"Whathappened..." He tried to slur out but found that his mouth was bone dry.
"Here." The man offered him a cup of water which he graciously accepted and downed in two long swigs. "You've been out for almost thirty-six hours so it's natural to feel thirsty. I'm Doctor Connors."
The man certainly did look the part of a doctor. A sudden and terrible thought washed over Tyr. This place was too familiar. Could the last months of his life have been nothing more than a chronopod simulation? Little more than a dream. It would not be the first time he had mistaken Aesir's simulations for reality. The revelation that none of it was real was enough to drive some completely mad, but Tyr had always been able to handle it. This was different though. Elliot couldn't be just another computer program. Tyr felt a type of panic begin to grip him that he had not felt since the early days of Aesir. Back before they broke his mind.
It was an all-encompassing terror that all this time he had been lying in stasis in one of those damned pods. He gripped the edges of the bed until his knuckles turned white as the room began spinning around him. It couldn't be. It just couldn't. He had to know. He had to focus long enough on this man in front of him. Tyr knew that if this slight-framed doctor gave him the answer he was dreading, then he would not be able to stop himself from tearing the small man to literal shreds.
"Is this..." His voice quaked with barely constrained terror and rage. "Is this Aesir?"
Seeing his abrupt change in demeanor and sensing possible danger, the doctor's eyes widened. and he took two steps back. "What?"
Tyr forced himself into a sitting position, ignoring the pain. "Is. This. Aesir!?" He yelled, practically foaming at the mouth.
The small doctor cowered. "Please sir! Calm down. I don't know what you're talking about. This is a hospital. You're going to pop your stitches."
Like air being let out of a balloon, Tyr crumpled back to the bed. The stitches, of course. The pain of a wound inside a chronopod simulation felt as real as outside, but it did not leave a mark. Something was dulling his mind. Painkillers perhaps. He looked down at his arm and was relieved to see the two intersecting scars that ran through the Aesir tattoo that branded him. The scars he had put there himself after murdering his brother, Hermod.
It was frightening to realize just how close to the edge he was. His sanity it seemed, hung by a thread. And that thread had a name; and stood about a head shorter than him with large eyes full of innocence.
"The fight?" Tyr couldn't bring himself to apologize to the man for scaring him so badly. It was better not to speak of it.
"Won handedly." The doctor mopped a bit of sweat from his brow. "I'm told that the New State militia broke and ran as soon as the Carvers went down. I hear we have you to thank for that."
Tyr breathed a sigh but did not respond. He looked around the room taking in his surroundings properly for the first time. It was a proper hospital, like before Ragnarok, with electric lighting and everything.
He gestured weakly at the lights. "Generators?"
The doctor nodded. "Yes, we were very lucky. Several of our backup generators survived the flare, and since then we've installed solar panels as well. I'd venture to say we're probably one of the only semi-functional hospitals left in the state. Likely why the New State wanted the town so badly."
Tyr grunted. "I guess I'm lucky too then."
"More than you know." The doctor agreed. "If the blade had cut any deeper, we would probably not be having this conversation. Furthermore, you're fortunate enough to share a blood type with a very brave and determined young man who I suspect is still sleeping outside at the moment."
"Elliot." Tyr mumbled softly.
"It was almost impossible to separate him from you, so we could patch you up. He's been waiting in here for hours. The nurses finally convinced him to get some rest in the waiting room. They promised to tell him as soon as you woke up, but I think it's best to let him sleep for a while."
Tyr nodded his agreement. "Don't wake him. I'll wait. Where are the rest?"
The doctor refilled his cup of water and handed it to him. "Most of your people are out scouring the town for any of the militia that might be holed up. Your friend, the blonde woman, said she would be back to check in on you soon. In the meantime, I'd suggest trying to rest a bit more."
Tyr did not have long to wait. Only a few minutes after the doctor left he heard a slight commotion in the hall. The door was pushed open and Elliot dashed in, followed by a flustered-looking nurse. When he saw that Tyr was awake, Elliot did all but launch himself at him. Tyr grunted involuntarily when Elliot wrapped him in a tight hug and accidentally put pressure on the stitched-up wound.
"I was so scared..." Elliot was near tears.
Putting a reassuring hand on the back of Elliot's head, Tyr held him close. After the scare of waking up and feeling that it could have all been a dream, the feel of Elliot's long hair between his fingers was a bliss that he could not remember ever experiencing.
The nurse stood awkwardly in the doorway for a moment before awkwardly shuffling back out the door, closing it behind her. When she was gone, Tyr pulled Elliot gently up onto the bed beside him, being careful not to stretch his abdomen where the stitches were.
"I heard that you donated some blood." Tyr gave Elliot a squeeze as the boy snuggled in next to him on the small bed.
"I had to." Elliot affirmed. "The doctor said you'd... that you might not make it if we didn't."
"Seems like you saved me this time." Tyr smiled weakly. "You've grown a lot."
Elliot gave Tyr an enigmatic look. "So have you."
Elliot wasn't sure why he said that, but the more he thought about it the more he stood by it. Tyr was not the same silent and stone-faced warrior that he had met months before. A smile, however small, came much easier for him these days, and he tended to speak in full sentences. Elliot wondered if he had played a role in this.
"Maybe so." Tyr agreed, hugging Elliot to him and kissing the top of his head.
The two lay there for some time and eventually Elliot noticed that Tyr had drifted off to sleep again. It was a very rare thing to catch Tyr sleeping and Elliot decided it was probably a good thing. Even Tyr needed to rest eventually. He lifted the hospital gown that Tyr wore to examine the wound for himself.
It was covered by a bandage that Elliot decided not to displace, but he was glad to see that only a small stain could be seen and that it was brown instead of red, meaning that the blood was old and dried. He also had a moment of impulsive and selfish satisfaction that the wound was far enough to the side that the inevitable scar wouldn't disrupt the firm lines of Tyr's abs or the defined `v' shape that angled downward from his hips. Elliot pushed those thoughts away quickly though. This was about Tyr getting better, not about his desires.
"What are you doing down there?" Tyr's low amused voice startled Elliot. He had forgotten how light of a sleeper Tyr was. Even the slightest movement had probably been enough to wake him.
"I..." Elliot stumbled awkwardly. "Just wanted to see if the bandaged needed to be changed.
Tyr gave a single quiet laugh and Elliot got the distinct impression that he did not buy it. "It's fine for now. Maybe you can help me change it later."
The way that Tyr spoke the last sentence gave Elliot a slight chill. It certainly sounded like Tyr was leaving an implication hanging in the air. That thought made Elliot grin and blush simultaneously as he gently crawled his way back up the bed. Looking first to the door, Elliot turned back and gave Tyr a quick kiss. Tyr ran his hand along the side of Elliot's face and down to his neck before pulling back.
"I should go..." Elliot eventually said reluctantly. "You gotta sleep."
Tyr sighed before loosening his hold on Elliot. The two shared a long meaningful look as Elliot climbed off the hospital bed, but they said nothing. As he slipped through the door, Elliot promised to return soon. Tyr was already drifting off again. It was startling to see him so weak. It made Elliot feel both afraid but also fiercely protective. Tyr had taken care of him at every turn, the least he could do was his best to give back.
The waiting room of the hospital was empty. Elliot suspected they did not get many visitors. Only one small wing of the building was still in use. The rest had been shut down to conserve energy. He had been quite surprised at how well maintained it was. The people of the town had obviously worked hard to keep it operating successfully.
Elliot found himself counting the tiles on the ceiling as he aimlessly milled about the waiting room. He knew Tyr needed his rest, but an immature part of him wished he would hurry up and get better so that Elliot could spend some quality time with him. Now that the town had been taken, there was an almost unprecedented lull that caused Elliot to let his guard down and want to relax with Tyr in a way that they hadn't done since their time at the Tournament. It was a feeling that Elliot hoped to take full advantage of.
He heard the door to the lobby open and the sound of voices. Turning in his chair, he saw Marcel and Ida enter the waiting room. They were talking seriously but did not seem overly concerned. Elliot had barely seen them since they had helped to bring Tyr in after the battle. Ida had stopped in once, but Tyr had still been solidly unconscious, so she had not stayed long.
"Ah, Elliot." Marcel smiled. "You have been here this whole time?"
Elliot nodded. "He woke up for a little while, but he's asleep again now."
"For the best." Marcel asserted. "He needs to rest."
Marcel's tone was more practical than anything. Elliot remembered the strong words Marcel and Tyr had shared before. He knew how Marcel felt about the loss of life, but he hoped that it would not form a lasting grudge between them.
"Well, I suppose then there is no reason for me to wait here. Ida, are you staying?" Marcel asked.
"For a bit." Ida nodded. "I'll come find you if he wakes up."
Marcel thanked her and bid farewell to Elliot before turning again to leave. When he was gone, Ida came to sit next to Elliot.
"He's still upset, but he'll get through it." Ida promised.
"How many died?" Elliot wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.
"Of ours, ten in the battle and one after. The village lost about a dozen too."
Eleven people. Eleven faces that Elliot had just started to become familiar with.
"He's most upset over losing Jim. They were like brothers. The two of them and Carlos started this whole thing. Louis is gone too."
Elliot looked down at his lap sadly. Jim had always been friendly toward him. Even though they had never had an extended conversation, Elliot had always considered him a staple of the group, and his talent with the guitar was a beauty that was rare in the world now. He felt sorrow for Louis as well. The older boy had always been somewhat cold towards Elliot, but he did not deserve to die.
Sighing heavily, he finally looked up at Ida when he was sure that he was not going to cry. "Was it worth it?" He eventually asked.
Ida took her time before shrugging. "I don't know." She answered honestly. "The town is with us for now. But we haven't seen the last of the New State. I don't know if they've got what it takes to keep up the fight."
"Tyr will help them." Elliot stated resolutely.
Ida glanced in the direction of the bedrooms. "Maybe. But right now, he's got to focus on helping himself. He's tough but not invincible, as much as he might like to think so."
Elliot had to smile at that. It certainly was a reversal of the order of things to have Tyr be the one needing help.
"Do you think they'll try to take the town back?" Elliot asked.
"I think they can't afford to ignore it." Ida responded heavily. "If they let this town go then other will follow. From their perspective, they've got to respond strongly and quickly to this, or else they'll be seen as weak."
"How long do you think we have?"
Ida shrugged. "I'm not quite the tactician that Tyr is, but I know a thing or two. If they're smart, which they seem to be, then I'd guess they will take a little time to coordinate a proper assault this time. We showed them the other night that a mass mob won't do the trick, so now they'll try something a bit more clever. They want to be quick but organizing something like that takes time. Probably a week at the least, and two at the most before we're attacked in force again. And they could very well send small strike parties between now and then."
Elliot frowned. A week was not a very long time, especially with Tyr out of commission for an unknown amount of time. "That doesn't sound hopeful." He pointed out.
With a sigh, Ida eventually shook her head. "I won't lie to you, Elliot. Things could definitely be worse, but we're a long way from out of the woods."
The two sat in silence for a while after that. After spending so long in the waiting room alone, Elliot took comfort in the presence of another person. Even though he had felt a bit jealous of Ida in the past, the fact that she was comfortable to sit quietly nearby said a lot about her character. She was tough. Elliot reasoned that if she had been chosen for Aesir then she was probably even tougher than he knew.
Elliot dozed in his chair as he had done since the battle. In his fragmented dreams he could still hear the screams of people dying. At the time, he had been too terrified and full of adrenaline, but now, sleeping under the cold white light of the hospital waiting room, they came back to him and tormented his already restless sleep.
Sometime later, the doctor came to inform them that Tyr was awake again. The sun was beginning to set, casting the sky in purple and orange, but the inside of the hospital remained unchanged and silent.
Elliot and Ida found Tyr sitting halfway propped up on his bed, looking surprisingly well. His face had a healthy color to it, and there was a plate set nearby with a few crumbs left on it. He gave them a half-smile as they entered.
"Not bad for the man who killed five doped-up maniacs." Ida commented sarcastically.
Tyr gently waved off her comment and asked, "How are things looking out there?"
Ida shook her head. "You don't need to worry about that. You need to patch up first. Marcel and I can..."
"Iduna." Tyr cut her off. "Please."
Annoyance flashed though Ida's eyes. "Don't call me that. You'll be in this hospital all month." She sighed. "Fine. We finished routing what was left of the militia forces. Probably twenty or thirty escaped though. We've spent the last day and a half scouring the town and making sure there's none left. The town is behind us, for now. Marcel is going to address them in the morning."
"Losses?" Tyr asked in a flat monotone.
"Comparably minimal." Ida responded in a similar voice, and Elliot realized this was a dry report. The kind that the two of them had likely been trained to give and receive without any emotion. "Less than twenty-five dead, eight wounded, counting you."
Tyr shook his head. "Too many."
Ida agreed silently. "Marcel is working on a plan to set up defenses around the town. We will be starting work tomorrow."
With a nod, Tyr shifted on the bed, wincing slightly. "They won't be coming to retake the town. They'll be coming to destroy it."
Soberly, Ida nodded as well. "That's what we were thinking too. I don't think the people should know that though."
"You're probably right." Tyr acknowledged. "Let Marcel know that I would like to speak to him tomorrow. Even though he may not want to speak with me."
Ida did not dispute the sentiment. She just nodded. "I need to check in on the camp before it gets too dark. I'll have Marcel come around in the morning after his address."
Tyr nodded and gave her a half-hearted smile. "Thank you, Ida."
On her way out, she gave Elliot a gentle pat on the shoulder. When she was gone, Elliot came closer to the bed and took Tyr's hand.
Tyr gave Elliot's arm a soft tug, bringing him closer. Elliot smiled but his heart was not fully in it.
"Do you think we will be ok?" He asked worriedly.
Closing his eyes and sighing, Tyr eventually opened them again and gave Elliot a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about that right now. We will be fine."
Elliot's own smile brightened a little and he gently climbed up into the bed with Tyr, cuddling into him as he had earlier. Tyr stroked a hand comfortingly through his hair.
"I will keep you safe." Tyr promised. "No matter what."
The tone in Tyr's voice made Elliot look up at him quizzically, but eventually he cracked a smile. "Well first you gotta get better. You're not keeping anyone safe from in here."
Tyr chuckled slightly. "I feel better already with you here."
It was unlike Tyr to be so open with his affection. Elliot appreciated the change but felt that he had to ask. "Is everything ok? You seem... different."
With a frown, Tyr met Elliot's gaze, brushing a strand of hair out of Elliot's wide eyes. "When I woke here I thought maybe you were lost to me."
"Oh." It was touching that his safety had been Tyr's first thought even after how badly he had been injured. "I'm fine." He promised. "Not even a scratch, see?" He lifted his arms as evidence that there was not a mark on him.
"I'm glad." Tyr replied, amused. "But not exactly like that. I was worried you were lost to me in a different way. A way I would not be able to live with."
Elliot's mouth twisted in a frown. "Huh?"
Tyr chuckled and squeezed Elliot gently. "Never mind. I just wanted you to know... how important you are. To me."
Elliot could tell how difficult it was for Tyr to say something like that openly. He felt tears in his eyes as a silly contented smile crossed his face. He inched himself upward so that he could give Tyr a long kiss and show him how important he was as well.
Feeling Tyr's hand running from the back of his head down the arch of his back made all of Elliot's worries melt away. He sighed softly, contentedly as he kissed Tyr again. A wicked idea began to form in his mind as Tyr's hand continued its slow journey south.
Breaking away from the kiss and giving Tyr his best seductive smile, Elliot slipped himself off the bed and over to the door that he locked before turning back again to look cheekily at Tyr.
Tyr said nothing but obviously knew what was on Elliot's mind. He arched one eyebrow at the not-so-innocent look Elliot was giving him.
Returning to the bed, instead of crawling in next to Tyr again, Elliot sat on the foot of the bed and pushed all the blankets aside. Tyr wore only the thin hospital gown that had been given to him when he arrived. Elliot let his eyes travel up Tyr's muscular legs to the slight tent in the light fabric. If he used his imagination it was almost as though he could see right through it. He looked into Tyr's eyes as he slowly pulled the shirt he was wearing over his head and tossed it to the floor.
The way Tyr looked at him always made him feel desired and attractive, and this time was no different. He could clearly see the lust, hidden, but slowly growing, in Tyr's eyes while he undid his hair and let it fall almost to his shoulders. He flipped it coyly and flashed a mischievous smile.
Gradually, teasingly, he began to inch the hem of the hospital gown upward, all the while maintaining eye contact with Tyr. He ran a hand up Tyr's leg to his inner thigh and felt Tyr tense up a bit. It was strange to see him so vulnerable. Strange and a little bit erotic for Elliot. After a long build-up, Elliot pushed the hem all the way up, revealing the slowly hardening length underneath. He sucked in a breath at the size of it. It was easy to forget how well-endowed Tyr was.
Looking back up at Tyr, who was watching him and seemed to be silently encouraging him, Elliot began to lean in towards it. His roaming hand brushed against the base of it, causing it to twitch gently. Grasping it softly, he began to work it with his hand as it continued to grow. Tyr's breath caught as the sensations began to flow through him.
Elliot could easily sense the essence of this change. It was an odd feeling as though Tyr was surrendering to him. He continued to stroke up and down as he thought about how strange it was to feel any sort of power over a force as unrestrained and strong as Tyr. Just the idea that he held the key to Tyr's release was powerfully erotic and caused him to stiffen in his pants as he massaged the full length of his partner.
Leaning in closer, Elliot could smell the pheromones radiating off of Tyr. Now fully erect, Tyr's manhood was practically begging him for more. Although Tyr said nothing, Elliot could tell by his slowed breathing and the long periods that lingered between when he blinked his eyes and opened them again that he was more than willing to accept what Elliot was prepared to give.
As he had done once before, Elliot tentatively stuck his tongue out and tasted just a bit of a base of the shaft. In response, the full impressive length of it twitched and hardened even further, and Tyr drew in another sharp breath. Elliot was again wowed by the amount of influence his seemingly small actions could have over someone so formidable.
Even just from a slight lick, Elliot could feel his own desires desperately trying to claim him. Now that he had experienced it before, he knew that he wanted this, possibly even more than Tyr appeared to want it. However, in the past weeks he had learned a thing or two about the art of performance. Elliot knew that the build up to the act was often as important as the act itself. And so, he gave Tyr his most enticing and seductive gaze while licking one time from the base to the very tip, sending a powerful shudder thought Tyr's muscular frame.
Impulsively and almost petulantly, Elliot asked, "Do you like that?" Even though he well knew the answer.
Moving his head forward again, Elliot sensually wrapped his lips around the tip, causing a sharp intake of breath from Tyr. Reaching down, Tyr ran his hand along the side of Elliot's face as Elliot began to work his tongue around the tip. Tyr's hips involuntarily lifted off the bed, pushing a little bit more of it into Elliot's mouth.
Elliot accepted the extra length and eagerly began to bob up and down on the tip of it. He took more of it in to the point that it was almost halfway into his mouth. The size of it stretched his mouth to the limit but he diligently tried to keep his teeth out of the way. The muffled grunts from Tyr suggested that he was doing his job well. He took in a little more, but then had to back off as he started to gag.
When he started moving forward again, he felt gentle pressure from Tyr's hand, encouraging him. As he neared the halfway point, he began to get the familiar choking sensation. This time, he did his best to push past it. He took in another half an inch, feeling it in the back of his throat, filling every part of his mouth. He held it there and felt it throb in time with Tyr's heartbeat. As the gagging became more intense his eyes began to water. Finally, he pulled back, feeling some spit leak out of the corner of his mouth.
Almost as soon as he pulled off, he felt Tyr's hand apply pressure to the back of his head, pushing him back down on it again. He happily complied, letting Tyr guide him down all the way to the choke point. This time, when he tried to pull back, Tyr held him firmly in place for several seconds before releasing the pressure. This unexpected show of dominance excited Elliot fiercely. He allowed Tyr to take more control of his actions until the hand was gripping his hair gently and moving him up and down.
Tyr's hips began to thrust in time as well. Slowly and gently at first but gradually increasing. Elliot gave in completely, surrendering to Tyr, who took control so naturally. He manipulated Elliot's head with his hand while thrusting deep into his mouth. This was an entirely new feeling and Elliot couldn't get enough. He began to stroke himself through his pants.
Tyr's thrusts came quicker, and Elliot could feel it in the back of his throat, hitting his gag reflex every time. With some pride, Elliot realized that he was taking almost the entire length into his mouth now that Tyr had taken charge. There was still about another inch, but this was far more than he'd ever been able to take.
Looking up, he saw the animalistic desire on Tyr's face as he buried himself deep in Elliot's throat with each thrust. The raw passion there ignited Elliot's own impulses and he felt waves of intense eroticism sweep through him. Fumbling with his pants with one hand while supporting himself with the other, he pushed them down far enough to start stroking himself more vigorously.
He maintained eye contact as Tyr pushed into his mouth again and again. A mix of drool and Tyr's essence was dripping down Elliot's chin from the forcefulness of the thrusts. It was a combination too perfect to last for long. Elliot could feel his climax fast approaching as he touched himself while Tyr made use of his mouth. With a squeal that was quickly silenced as his mouth was filled again, Elliot squeezed his eyes shut and began to shoot into his hand.
Seeing this, Tyr increased his pace even further. Elliot practically went limp as Tyr pounded out three more powerful thrusts and then buried it deep one last time. The strong pulsing of it, coupled with the feeling of warm liquid bursts shooting into the back of his throat made Elliot's eyes roll upward.
There was so much of it that it spilled out of his mouth from the corners, running down his chin and coating his face. Elliot swallowed hungrily as it continued to erupt.
One last pulse sent a final spurt straight down Elliot's throat as he greedily gulped it down. Tyr relaxed his hold on Elliot's hair, chest heaving. Elliot was almost reluctant to let the slightly deflating length slip out of his mouth. He lay his head gently on Tyr's thigh, looking at it closely. It was covered in his spit and the remains of Tyr's climax. Deciding that his work was not done, Elliot went about licking it clean, which caused Tyr to groan with pleasure.
Elliot stayed there for a while. He liked the feeling of being down between Tyr's legs. The scent of sex and musk was almost enough to cause him to stiffen up again. They didn't speak, just took the time to catch their breath as they both came down from their intense high.
Eventually, Elliot wiped his face off using the edge of Tyr's hospital gown and slowly crawled his way up the bed next to Tyr. Tyr roped him into a tight hug and gave him a kiss on the forehead.
"Thank you." He eventually mumbled.
Elliot giggled. "I like doing it. Can I do it more often?"
Tyr raised his eyebrows. "You can do it as often as you want. You've got a talent"
With a blushing smile, Elliot kissed Tyr and let Tyr's hand roam across his slender body and trace the arc of his back down to the rounded conclusion. He had pulled his pants back up, but had not bothered to retrieve his shirt, and Tyr seemed to be more than content with that.
As they often did after their escapades, they simply lay together quietly, enjoying each other's company. Time didn't seem to matter very much when they were together in this way. Eventually Tyr broke the silence however, and the serious tone of his voice made Elliot lift his head to look at him.
"I want you to leave."
It was so abrupt that Elliot didn't know how to take it. He frowned in confusion but then his face softened. Surely Tyr just meant that he needed sleep to recover. Right? Slowly and still with some uncertainty, Elliot began to rise from the bed.
"You mean leave the room?" He finally asked.
Tyr shook his head. "No. Leave town. Go into the mountains. Stay in the woods."
"But..." Elliot was taken aback. "Why?"
With a heavy sigh, Tyr reached out and stroked the back of Elliot's hand. "It's not safe here. When they attack the town, they won't be interested in taking prisoners. They'll be trying to kill everyone that stood up to them."
"No," Elliot took Tyr's hand in both of his. "We'll be alright. We've got you, and Ida, and Marcel. And the whole town. It'll be tough, but we can..."
"Elliot." Tyr cut him off gently. "This battle isn't going to be like the one the other night. There's no one to save us this time. We're on our own. And when the civilians see hundreds of well-armed and organized men coming to kill them," He paused. "Well it would be a small miracle if they were able to face that kind of fear without breaking."
"I don't understand." Elliot felt himself starting to cry. "Wasn't this your plan? If you didn't think we could win then why did we come here?"
Another sigh. "I had intended for us to take our time. Win over the town slowly and whittle down our enemy bit by bit, without them having a chance to retaliate. I never planned to meet the militia forces in open combat like this, at least not for a long time to come. That is why I want you to leave."
Tightening his grip, Elliot furiously blinked away tears. "Come with me then. Let's run away just the two of us."
Slowly but resolutely, Tyr pulled his hand back. "I can't do that. I helped lead these people here. I can't leave them now."
"You think I can?" Elliot practically shouted, standing up from the bed. "Jay, Marcel... Ida, they're my friends. What would they think if I just ran away like that. They'd think I gave up on them... They'd think you gave up on them."
"There's no other way." Tyr's voice was beginning to show rare traces of real emotion. "I won't risk you dying."
"There has to be another way!" Elliot insisted. "Come on, think! You're Tyr, you can do anything!"
"I wish that were true." Tyr said quietly. "These people are not ready to meet the militia in open battle though. It would take time that we just don't have in order to prepare them."
"What if we had more time?" Elliot asked, an idea beginning to form. "What if we didn't have to fight them?"
At Tyr's command, Elliot elaborated on the thought that was just starting to grow in his mind. Almost immediately Tyr began shaking his head.
"Marcel would never agree to it. The town would never agree to it."
"Then convince them!" Elliot begged. "You just said there was no other way."
A long silence hung in the air. Elliot was sure that Tyr was going to reject his plan, but finally his friend sighed. "I will try. I want your word that if it fails you will leave town. I want you to promise me that." Tyr looked him sternly in the eyes.
"I promise." Elliot replied. "We'll just have to be very persuasive."
The next morning, the doctor entered the hospital room to find the bed empty. The thin gown was hung in the corner. Sometime later, he heard reports that a crutch as well as a substantial amount of gauze and medical tape had gone missing during the night.
In the center of town, Marcel prepared to address the growing crowd of frightened faces. He was a natural performer and orator so giving speeches had never bothered him before, but this was a different kind of speech. These people were about to be engaged in a fight for their lives and their homes. They needed to know what was at stake, but not be intimidated into fleeing. It was a delicate line to walk.
A sort of anxious anticipation fell over the crowd as Marcel stepped up to the gazebo in the middle of the town square park. They had taken the first step of overthrowing their oppressors, but now they needed to be able to defend what they had earned. Jay and Ida gave him a nod and a reassuring look from the edge of the crowd.
"Wait!" A voice broke through the dull buzz of the audience just before Marcel began his speech.
Looking up, he saw the crowd beginning to part and a tall but hobbling figure making his way toward the center. It was Tyr, supported by a crutch on one side and Elliot on the other. Marcel had mixed feelings about seeing Tyr again. On the one hand, he was glad that he was up and about and on the mend, he would be invaluable in the fight to come. On the other, he still harbored more than a little resentment for Tyr's plans falling apart. Ida had told him that the plan had been disrupted by Tyr's capture, and Marcel was mature enough to wonder if maybe he was not being totally fair. But the sting of losing so many close friends all at once was enough for anyone to behave impulsively.
"Tyr, you should be in bed." Ida admonished when she saw him, but immediately moved to help him.
"I'm fine. This is important." He asserted, limping forward. "Marcel..." He stopped at the foot of the gazebo. "I am sorry for the loss you've experienced. I made a mistake when I thought we could win the town slowly without being noticed. But now I need to prevent another mistake from being made, if you will let me."
Marcel gave him an annoyed look. He glanced up to Ida who shrugged in obvious confusion. Despite the urgency in Tyr's voice, Marcel did not think he was prepared to hear him out just yet. About to reject his request, Marcel looked down and caught Elliot's eye. The look of hopeful pleading there as the boy helped support his staunch protector was too much.
"Fine." Marcel eventually grumbled reluctantly. He stepped back as Ida and Elliot helped Tyr up the steps.
Tyr was dressed in his usual dark cargo pants and boots but wore a loose-fitting hospital scrub shirt that hung from his muscular frame more like a poncho. He turned so that he was addressing both the gathered town, and Marcel and the rest of the group.
"We won the battle the other night." Tyr began. His voice started out weak but gathered strength as he stretched it. "We overthrew the tyrants running this town, at great cost. Friends, neighbors, family members, all no longer with us."
Nodding heads bobbed among the audience. Marcel stood to the side of the gazebo, with his hand to his chin and a scowl on his face.
"We beat them though. And because of that, we might be able to convince ourselves that we can do it again." Tyr's voice was carrying clearly now out over the assembly that was listening in rapt attention. "But the fact is, we cannot."
A collective intake of breath swept over the crowd as this was not what they had expected to hear. Marcel's scowl darkened, and Ida gave him an incredulous look.
"More will come. Hundreds more. And they will not be coming to reclaim what we took from them. They will be coming to murder each and every one of us, and to burn your homes. And should we survive that, we'll have another wave to look forward to after."
The audience looked fearfully from one to another as they realized the truth behind his words. They began to shift uncomfortably.
"Why don't we just give them you, then?" An older man cried out. Several others voiced their agreement. "You're the ones that started this."
Tyr shook his head sadly. "If only it were that easy. You defied a tyrant. It is not the nature of tyrants to be forgiving. Even if you give us up, they will burn this town to ash."
"Tyr... I don't think..." Ida started, but was cut off by another voice from the crowd.
"What are we supposed to do then, give up and die?" A collection of angry voices echoed this sentiment.
"The town is lost." Tyr repeated. "No matter how strong our will to defend it may be, these buildings will fall. But its people do not have to fall with it."
"What are you suggesting?" Marcel interjected with more than a little irritability.
"We leave." Tyr called out over the crowd. "Pack what you can carry with you. Keep your family close. We make for the mountains where we fight them the way we should have fought all along. We cannot afford to throw bodies at these invaders. The bodies of our friends and families. We bleed them out bit by bit. But most importantly, we survive."
Tyr paused, but no one spoke up. The crowd did not seem impressed by the idea, but neither had anyone risen to challenge it yet.
"Every day that you are alive," Tyr continued. "Is another blow to their power over the people of this region. They need to make an example of you to keep other towns from rising up with us. The longer they fail to do so, the longer we defy them, and the more their power crumbles."
"So you drag us into your fight, then try to drag us out of our homes to let them be burned?" The older man from before called out angrily. "How are you any better than them?"
"This was never our intent." Tyr admitted. "We had hoped to free this town with as little loss of life as possible. Our plans were... disrupted. You've all heard Marcel speak about the power of evil men, and you've seen what we can do when we confront that power. You can take your freedom back. It's within your reach. But it is not without cost. Right now, that cost might seem steep, but when you and your children look back and remember the one chance you had to reclaim what's yours, will it be looking back from the shackles of servitude, or from the haven of freedom?"
Elliot was surprised. Tyr was never the talkative type, so the fact that he could summon such emboldening words when he needed to took him by surprise. Many of the people seemed moved by his sincerity too. Soft conversations broke out through the crowd and eventually two of the boys, Corey and Erik that Elliot and Jay had met in the back alley, stepped forward.
"We'll come with you." Corey announced loud enough for most of the crowd to hear. "It felt good to get those bastards back for Ken and his family."
A murmur of agreement rippled out from his statement and soon several other younger people announced their intent to join as well. In a true domino effect, seeing the courage of these youths, more of the townsfolk joined in. Tyr turned to Marcel with a questioning look before stepping to one side.
Marcel rolled his eyes and scoffed but stepped forward to the center.
"Tyr is right, of course." His voice carried naturally. "We will fight them on our terms, not theirs. We will make them feel a thousand tiny cuts that will slowly bleed them dry. If you are with us, return to your homes. Gather what you can carry with you. We will leave at sunrise tomorrow."
The following day, just as Marcel had requested, over two hundred villagers met them in the town square, carrying everything they owned. It was not the whole town. Some had resolutely refused to leave their homes, opting instead to throw themselves at the mercy of the New State. And so, it was a bitter-sweet exodus, as people left behind their houses, their livelihoods, their neighbors, in pursuit of the unknown. Hoping against hope that their caravan that now trailed into the distance would lead them through the hardship to peace and prosperity.