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After Earth Went Dark, Part II Chapter 1
Elliot grunted as he swung the axe down on the last log, splitting it neatly in half. It had taken him some time to get the hang of aiming the blade and putting enough force behind the swing to cleanly chop the log down the middle. After splitting over a hundred logs however, he had become quite competent.
It was hard work helping Uncle Mark keep the farm going. They rose early and worked most of the day, and they always went to bed exhausted. It had been over a month since they had left Tyr in that little copse of trees by the side of the road. Elliot's grief had faded to a dull ache that only affected him when he was lying alone in bed. One feeling that did not fade though and surprised him to find, was one of near constant boredom.
The work on the farm kept him occupied, but he felt consistently like life here had no real meaning or goal. With Tyr, life had felt like an adventure. Whether it was trekking through the wilderness with only their packs or living in the lap of luxury at the Tournament, there had seldom been a dull moment. Now it seemed like he was simply existing. He worked on the farm from sunrise until late afternoon. They ate dinner and had quiet small-talk conversations. He was in bed shortly after sunset only to repeat the cycle the next day.
Alice was pregnant. That announcement had accompanied nearly two weeks' worth of icy glares from Elliot's mother to Uncle Mark. Elliot understood why she felt that way, but it also reminded him of his feelings for Tyr. While the age difference was much wider between Alice and Uncle Mark, both of them seemed content, plus the idea of having a baby cousin brought at least new topics of conversation to spark their mundane lives.
At first, the farm work had felt impossibly exhausting. Those first days and weeks Elliot had constant aches all over his body. He had gotten used to it now though, and it was beginning to show. Occasionally at night he would stand in front of a mirror and poke at the developing muscles on his arms and his stomach. It was nothing compared to Tyr's body, which had been slender and lean, and yet firm and powerful like a steel cord, but Elliot still had to admit that he felt better about himself examining the gently defined ab muscles.
He had continued his knife practice too. Building on what Tyr had taught him he practiced throwing, along with the swift and deadly series of flourishes, stabs and slashes they had rehearsed in the woods. He had even taught himself some new maneuvers using both the knife that Tyr gave him and the hunting knife that he had `borrowed' from Uncle Mark's collection.
Dropping the axe off in the shed he took one last look at it. Just the shape of it sometimes made him think of Tyr. He returned to the house to make sure every part of his plan was ready.
That night, after everyone had gone to bed, Elliot waited until he could hear Kara's even breathing from the other side of the room. Quietly he pulled Tyr's pack out from under his cot. Before dinner he had packed it full of supplies and filled two large canteens from the well. He set the note he had written under his pillow with just the edge sticking out. He wanted it to be found, but not immediately. With his two knives in his belt, and Tyr's pack over his shoulders with a bedroll strapped to the top, he silently climbed the stairs and slipped out into the night, heading towards town.
Elliot had been into the little town about ten miles from Uncle Marks once before. It took him almost all night to get there, but he knew that he had to put as much distance between himself and the farm as possible, so they could not come after him. He had told them in his note not to come after him, and hinted about going the opposite direction, but he knew that if they caught up with him, he'd never be allowed out of the house again.
The decision to leave had been on his mind for some time. He needed to see that grove of trees one last time. The thought of what he might find there terrified him, but he had to know for sure. After he had some closure he would go back to the farm and accept his punishment.
The town was small and friendly enough. It was rural enough that it had been missed by most of the raiding and looting that had spilled over after the flare. Or the not-flare. Elliot had been reading through Tyr's journal but had not come across anything yet to tell him what actually did happen if not a solar flare.
After getting about an hour of rest before sunrise, he began to ask around in town, describing the road and the patch of woods as best he could. Most people he asked met his question with bewildered looks. It was strange to see a child traveling alone these days, and especially one that was so direct and seemingly fearless. In truth, Elliot was terrified. Every person that walked by him or that looked at him for just a little bit too long seemed like a possible threat. The only way he kept his composure was by trying to imagine how Tyr would behave in this situation. He kept his face blank and emotionless as he asked his questions, he could almost hear Tyr's deadpan voice in his mind.
It took him almost all morning, asking nearly every person in town that he encountered, but finally an old trader claimed to have passed such a spot only the day before on his way into town. Elliot could have hugged the old man. The hours of fruitless searching had left him discouraged, but he had been determined not to show it, just as he was now determined not to show how excited he was to finally have a lead. He got directions, thanked the man, and set out.
Elliot had not brought a lot of food with him. They did not have a lot to spare on the farm, so he did not want to put them under any strain. As long as he made it back in a few days he knew he should be alright.
The road was lonely as he walked. He wished he had some company. The thought of asking Kara to go with him had entered his mind before he left, but a part of him needed to do this alone. She could have drawn extra unwanted attention as well. This left him alone with his thoughts and eventually he turned to scolding himself for being silly. What was he expecting to find here? Tyr sitting by the fire like nothing happened? He kicked at a rock on the side or the road.
As the sun began to set Elliot realized that the scenery was beginning to look familiar. He couldn't be sure, but he thought there was a good chance he was close to his destination. It was getting dark quickly though, so he decided to duck off the road and find a place to lay low for the night. He didn't want to risk walking right past it.
He had drastically underestimated just how frightening it was to spend the night by himself in the middle of the woods. Every little sound or shifting shadow made him jump and he kept his hand close to his knife. He huddled against a tree, trying to imagine that the wood was Tyr's firm body pressed against him. But the bark was cold and unforgiving and gave him little comfort. His sheer exhaustion eventually overcame him, but he slept restlessly.
Early in the morning he found what he was looking for. Less than a mile from where he had spent the night, he saw deep ruts leading off the road that he knew must have come from their car. They had grown over a bit in the time since then, but they were still noticeable. Elliot looked off into the trees, a mix of excitement and dread churning in his gut. This was it. There was no turning back.
It was strange to see the little clearing come into view. The emotions from that day bubbled up to the surface and Elliot had to wipe his eyes and push them back. The firepit was still there, with grass beginning to reclaim the middle of it, but otherwise the clearing was empty. Elliot sighed, again unsure of what he had expected. Signs of a struggle? A body?
He paced aimlessly around the clearing, trying to think like Tyr; searching for any little clues or abnormalities. Then he saw it. A little way off from the clearing he saw a mound of earth. It was not freshly piled, but it was also not naturally occurring. Elliot knew immediately what it was, and his breath caught. He had to get a closer look.
As he approached the grave, it felt suddenly like he had been punched in the gut. Resting on the top of the mound, slightly sunken into the soft dirt, was the steel engraved head of one of Tyr's axes.
Elliot shook his head, falling to his knees. The tears fell silently in a river as he stared down at the axe head. It couldn't be true. Tyr couldn't be dead. He was Tyr. Strong and fearless and brave, but also quietly loving. The idea that he would never feel Tyr's surprisingly gentle touch on his face again was too painful to bear.
Raising his head, Elliot screamed at the sky before hurling himself down in a sobbing heap at the foot of the grave. Countless times he had lived out this exact scene in his nightmares. He felt like he was falling. The loss of Tyr before had been painful, but he had been able to hold out some shred of hope. Now his loss was complete, and Elliot wished he had never pursued it.
It was impossible to tell how long he lay there. Time had lost all meaning. If he had died lying by that grave, he would have considered it a mercy. He thought about ending his life, but he knew that he would not be able to use the knife Tyr had given him for protection to take his own life.
Sniffling, Elliot pulled himself to his feet. It wasn't fair. First his dad, now Tyr. He began scouring the clearing and gathering up small rocks, trying as he did so to slow his tears. When he had enough, he returned to the grave and picked up the head of Tyr's axe. In its place, he used the rocks to form the symbol of Tyr in the center of the mound. He clasped the axe head to his chest, holding in a sob before tucking it into his belt.
It took him a long time to be able to turn his back on the clearing one last time. He told himself he would come back some day, but he didn't believe it. He didn't want to come back. Seeing that grave again would hurt just as much no matter how much time passed. The walk back to town seemed even more lonely and desolate, and though the sun was high in the sky the world felt darker. By the time he reached the edge of town, night was beginning to fall once more. If he kept on walking, he knew that he could be back to the farm before morning. But what was the point? The thought of working on that farm day after day, with no hope of Tyr ever coming to find him was crushing.
The sound of music drifted to him from somewhere in town and he frowned. He had seen no evidence the day before of any kind of fair of festival, but he could clearly hear the sounds of a crowd from somewhere in town, and up-tempo music.
With nothing motivating him in any particular direction, Elliot made the unconscious decision to let his curiosity guide him. Whatever the commotion was, it was coming from the center of town, and Elliot saw as he approached that standing torches had been lit around some kind of very large wagon. A small crowd had formed a circle around the wagon as well and there was scattered clapping in time with the energetic flamenco guitar and tambourine music. Occasional bursts of excitement came from the crowd. Whatever they were watching was apparently engaging. Elliot squeezed his way to the front to get a look.
In the center of the circle in front of the wagon sat two guitar players creating the rhythmic and intricate melody that had drawn him in. Next to them was another young man sitting on some kind of box and using his hands to drum on it. In front of the musicians was a group of about twelve people, flamboyantly dressed, and performing an impressive combination of dance and acrobatics.
As Elliot made it to the front of the crowd, a tall thin man dressed in a form-fitting outfit of black and white vertical stripes put his hands in a stirrup position for a graceful young woman with beautiful long blond hair to step into. No sooner had she done so, the man thrust his hands upward, launching the woman into the air. She simultaneously pushed off with her foot, to get even higher in her jump. She did a summersault in midair before falling back down and being caught in an exaggeratedly provocative pose by the tall man. All this was done in time with the driving rhythm of the music behind them, and they immediately spun off into a continuation of the dance.
The crowd applauded the show and even Elliot was impressed. There were other groups of dancers and performers as well, but the main attraction was obviously the tall man and his blonde-haired dance partner. Elliot got a better look at the man's face as he whirled past at high speed and he noticed that the man was actually fairly young, possibly in his early to mid-twenties. The woman he was with seemed to be about the same age. Elliot saw that almost all the people in the little troupe were relatively young, with the oldest being the two guitar players that Elliot placed at nearly thirty, and the youngest looking to be only few years older than Elliot.
Elliot realized that the kinds of things the dancers were doing were made to look easy, but actually would have required a great deal of physical strength and stamina, not to mention coordination. He wondered where such a talented group had suddenly appeared from.
Without feeling the time pass, Elliot stood and watched the performance for nearly an hour. The intense beat of the music and the dangerous and sometimes sensual movements of the dancers kept his mind away from other things. He even found himself tapping his foot along with the clapping of the crowd.
As the music rolled to a halt, the dancers froze statue-like, some in mid-motion. As one, they whirled to face the crowed and bowed extravagantly. Elliot had to applaud with the crowd a little bit. It was a very impressive show.
"Thank you so much! You are too kind." The tall man's voice carried over the crowd. He had an accent of some sort. "We are the Traveling Theater of Cheer, on a noble quest to bring sunshine and happiness back to this drab world!" The man spoke as though delivering an important soliloquy, yet with enthralling passion and enthusiasm. "We have a lovely little box should you decide to provide us with a donation. But, be assured, your wonderful smiling faces are the only payment that we truly need!"
The crowd applauded again, and the man bowed once more. Elliot searched his pocket until he found what he was looking for. Before they had fled from the Tournament, they had used a currency known as Jacksonian schillings. Elliot had kept one as a souvenir of sorts. Even though it was probably worthless this far away from the Tournament, Elliot thought these people deserved something for distracting him from his thoughts for a time.
The blonde woman was sitting next to the box for tips and she thanked Elliot as he dropped the little coin inside, then gave him a look up and down.
"Carrying an awful lot of weapons for a little one." She commented, eyeing the two knives at his belt. "Where are your parents?"
Elliot shrugged. Something told him he shouldn't admit to being alone. "They're at the inn." He pointed ambiguously over his shoulder.
The woman smiled in amusement. "You're a smart boy. It's dangerous to be out here on your own."
"I'm not." Elliot said, confused. "I just said..."
"I know what you said." The woman cut him off. Her voice was friendly but authoritative. "I also know when I'm being lied to. But you do it convincingly enough."
Elliot had no answer to this. He shrugged again and looked at the ground.
"What's your name?" She asked, motioning him forward.
"I'm Elliot." He found it hard to meet her gaze. She had penetrating eyes that made Elliot feel almost like she could read his mind.
"Ida." She introduced herself and extended a hand. "Nice to meet you." She gave him a genuine grin that would have been very infectious. Elliot was not in a smiling mood though. "You've seen a lot for your age." She commented. It was a statement not a question. "Kids have to grow up too quickly these days."
Elliot didn't respond. His mind kept being dragged back to the little clearing with the mound of earth piled up nearby. Eventually he just nodded.
"Where are you heading, Elliot?" Ida asked him, breaking him from his thoughts.
In truth, Elliot had no idea. His intent had been to return to Uncle Mark's, but after finding the clearing again, life on the farm seemed even more unbearable. "Don't know." He said with a shrug.
"Well, would you like to come with us?" She offered, standing up. "It's not an easy life on the road, but you look like you've seen some miles already."
Elliot frowned and looked up at her. "Why?"
Ida chuckled, a pleasant lilting sound. "Why not? Marcel has been looking for someone to tend the horses. You seem like you could handle it."
It was an intriguing idea, traveling around with a group of performers, but Elliot thought of his mother and Kara and how worried they would be. His note had specified that he would return soon, and when he didn't, they would fear for the worst. He also knew that if he returned to the farm, he would spend the next years of his life there, repeating the same tasks. Elliot could see his life laid out before him, with a fork in the road directly at his feet.
"Can I... Think about it?" Elliot asked uncertainly.
Ida shrugged. "We leave here at sunrise. If you're here then you're welcome, if not then good luck to you Elliot." She smiled and returned her attention to the audience members that were dropping small tips into the box.
Elliot wandered off toward the outskirts of town to find a place to rest for the night. All the while he thought about Ida's offer. His mother would insist they try to look for him. They probably already were. Within the next day or two they would likely be searching this very town.
That thought gave him an idea. Seeing a rundown shop that had been repurposed into a bar and inn he ducked inside off the street.
"No children allowed." The bartender stopped him at the door. "Find somewhere else to stay."
"I don't want to stay." Elliot replied quietly, trying to sound braver than he felt. "Would you take a message for me for some people that are going to be looking for me here?"
The man at the bar frowned, leaning over to peer at Elliot. "What's in it for me?"
Elliot bit his lip. He had nothing. Even that little Jacksonian schilling was gone now. "Oh!" He suddenly remembered and yanked Uncle Mark's hunting knife out of his belt, causing the man to take a step back. "I'll give you this." It was a quality weapon and Elliot felt a little bit bad about stealing it from his uncle.
The bartender held out his hand and Elliot passed over the knife. He examined it closely before giving Elliot a small nod.
"If people come here looking for me, tell them that I'm safe and they don't need to keep looking." Elliot's voice nearly caught as he said the words, but he forced them out. He hoped they would understand.
The man nodded again and stowed the knife under the bar before directing Elliot to the door once again.
Sunrise found Elliot tentatively poking around near the small camp for the traveling theater. They were finishing their packing and hitching up the horses when he arrived.
Ida saw him approach and gave him a wide smile. "Welcome back Elliot. I take it you've decided to join us after all."
Elliot nodded and stifled a yawn. He had only slept a few hours.
"Marcel." Ida turned to the tall man from the night before who had just stepped around the wagon. "This is Elliot. He's the one I mentioned last night."
Marcel was a statuesque man, standing at over six feet with a lithe thin frame. As he looked down, Elliot noticed his striking hazel eyes and angular facial features. Even his short sideburns were trimmed to a tapered point. His black hair was slicked back and seemed to shine in the early morning sun.
His face split into a broad charming grin. "Welcome, young one!" His accented voice was dripping with dramatic enthusiasm. "You are joining us on the most honorable of errands, the purest of pursuits! Bringing joy and gladness back to the world. Do you have what it takes?"
Elliot wondered how someone could have so much energy and virility this early in the morning. He nodded before answering quietly. "I think so."
Marcel clicked his tongue several times. "No, no. It is not enough to think so. You must know it! You must believe it! And you must make it so! And so, I ask you again. Do you have what it takes!?" He was practically yelling by the time he finished, but not in an aggressive manner. Marcel genuinely seemed to be too excited about their mission to contain himself.
Emboldened, Elliot nodded more vigorously this time. "Yes."
"Splendid!" Marcel threw up his hands. "Ida will see you to your duties. Welcome aboard young Elliot! And prepare yourself for your greatest journey yet!"
With that, Marcel disappeared around the other side of the wagon once more. Ida gave Elliot a knowing smile.
"Yes, he's almost always like that. It takes some getting used to." She told him.
"My dear," Marcel's head reappeared from behind the wagon. "You wound me." He said in an exaggerated pout before departing again.
Ida shook her head and turned back to Elliot. "You're going to be in charge of taking care of the horses. Have you worked with horses before?"
Elliot shook his head.
"Alright, no worries. You'll learn quickly. It's not an easy life, and definitely not fancy, but we usually get our fill to eat, and you'll find no better company than these people." She waved her hand around indicating the small camp. "You're new and you look tired. There's a small seat on the back of the wagon that you can use for the first leg of our trip today, but it's mostly a lot of walking."
Ida led him around the back of the wagon to show him the little bench. "This isn't some fancy coach or anything. It's a fold-out stage for some of the larger performances we do. That means minimal storage space and very little room for passengers. We travel mostly with what we can carry. You look like you're doing that already though."
Elliot nodded. He laid a hand on the beautifully painted wood of the wagon. He did not see how it could fold out into a stage and was looking forward to seeing it happen. "Will we be back here again?" He asked the question that had been eating at him.
Ida shrugged. "Possibly, but not for some time. We did better in donations here than some places we visit so there's a chance we'll stop by again once they start to miss us. Why?"
"No reason." Elliot sighed.
The camp was packed up within a few minutes and Elliot hopped up into the back of the wagon. There was just enough room for him to curl up and lay down on the little bench. They lurched and began to rumble along, and Elliot heard Marcel begin to sing in a language he didn't recognize. Elliot watched the town roll by and eventually they came to the edge. The edge of his old life. He sighed again, shut his eyes, and turned his back on the houses and buildings slowly fading into the distance.