A/N: Hey everybody.
Just in case you missed it I reposted chapter 1. The author's note there will explain why. Anyway...
Enjoy the new chapter
I feel like I'm dreaming. My mind is in total darkness, my senses are muted and I can only feel the slight vibrations in my arms. Where am I? What's happening?
"Stop, Odinson." A deep voice of authority rips through the murk on my mind. It sounds familiar, but I'm unaware of who it is or where it's coming from. I try to turn to look but my body does not react, and I can see nothing. All there is are the vibrations.
What am I doing?
"ERIK! STOP!" That's my mother's voice.
I'm ripped out of the dark and launched into a memory of the time I nearly killed a group of men for harassing my mother. I had been walking home from school, and these burly dick heads thought they were hot shit.
My mom had been coming home to have dinner with me before she went off to her next job, and on the way, some assholes decided to try and pick her up. She wasn't having any of it, and they started getting handsy with her. Though my mother taught me how to fight, she was not as strong as me. Maybe stronger than most women, but she couldn't take on five fully grown bastards on her own. They knew that and took advantage of it.
I dropped my bag and that's all I remember. I blacked out. My mother was trying desperately to stop me from killing them, but could do anything except for try and shout through m y madness, my rage. Eventually I heard her, and I pulled out of the blood lust just as I was about to snap one of their necks.
Looking around, I had seen that I beat them bloody, maybe even crippled them, but none of them were dead. I was lucky. We had to move again. That was two years ago.
"ERIK! PLEASE!" That wasn't my mother's voice.
Snapping back to reality, I find myself sitting on top of a man, who's face has been mangled beyond recognition, the ground covered in so much blood that I can't see the ground, even with all the raining trying to wash it away.
My fist was raised, ready to deliver another strike, but looking around, I can see that all the men that were here to harm us were dead. I don't know where this other car came from, or where these other bodies came from, but they all look battered and broken. I was willing to bet none of them survived.
As I surveyed my surroundings, I see Billy, standing there, crying with his hands over his eyes. Immediately I realize what I've done, and I loosen my fist, and get off my victim.
"Billy. I'm sorry." I reach for him, and the minute my hand touches his shoulder he flinches away.
"D-don't, h-h-hurt me."
"I won't. I promised your mom I would protect you." This boy was going to get a cold out here. He was only wearing his blue t-shirt and jeans with shoes. Not even boots. There was blood splattered on his pants, probably from being close enough to me while I beat the hell out of these bastards. God, I hope he didn't see it all.
Looking around, I could feel a sense of ease knowing that those wishing us harm were dead, but I still felt the need to keep my guard up. On top of that, I need to calm down. This weather needs to subside so emergency services can reach us. Reaching into my pocket, I see that my phones screen is cracked, though it's still working, and I start to do some breathing exercises my mother taught me as I consider the fact that this time I killed people when I blacked out.
I'd rather have been conscious for it.
When the operator answered I was kind of alarmed for a minute because I wasn't really registering that my phone was even ringing, or even had service. I gave the details of what happened, leaving out the part about me doing things no regular human could, and assured me first responders would be there soon. They wanted me to stay on the phone but it died so I just put it away and went to use some near by puddle to try and wash the blood off of my hands.
Inspecting myself as I do, I come to realize I was shot, multiple times. It made me wonder for a moment if the blood on my clothes was all of theirs or mixed with mine. I lift my sweater and shirt to see and it looks like there are very small cuts on my torso, but no bullets seemed to have been in me. Maybe the pistols were too weak? Now I'm curious if you'd need a shotgun or a .50 cal to penetrate my skin. I guess this proves that I'm not bulletproof but I am bullet resistant. Then again, I've only gotten stronger as I've gotten older, so I may very well become invulnerable soon enough. I ponder the implications of this as I begin to wash myself again.
I hear Billy's foots steps as he tries to manoeuvre around the road without looking at the carnage I've caused. I sigh, though I wished for him to not see what I had done, it could not be helped. If I hadn't lost myself to the rage, than I would have been able to reduce the... mess and advise him to look away. Alas, I was a raging hulk, smashing our assailants to bits. They deserved worse.
I've gotten enough blood off of me that I can focus on consoling the boy now and move towards him.
"Hold, Billy. I'll come pick you up, if that's okay?" Billy stands still, waiting as I approach.
"Ittttt... co-o-o-old." Shit, he's going to suffer from Hypothermia if I don't warm him up. Quickly, but very carefully, I pick the boy up and lift my sweater. I'm so large that he barely takes up my torso. So, I place him against my moderately damp t-shirt underneath my sweater, and then pull the sweater down around him. I tear the top open so he can fit his head through a breath as I let my body heat warm him up. I need to find him something dry though.
Looking among the dead, all of their clothes are messed up with blood and soaked. I consider going over to the car, and checking to see if these assholes had any towels or something, but I stop when I hear some footfalls coming down the road.
It is coming in the direction we had come from, the boots are heavy and purposeful against the soaked concrete. When I look over I see the cloaked man from before, still barely any light to be had here. By this point I have calmed my emotions enough that the weather is starting to let up again, but part of me wonders if trying to muster a storm would be better. Not that I've ever been all that successful at it.
As the cloaked figure gets closer the other Sedan that undoubtedly belonged to the extra guys I had seemingly killed in my madness is facing the direction he is coming from. He eventually walks into the beams produced of the headlights and stands there, as if to allow me to study him. As I do, I am greatly aware of the shivering boy in my arms, and begin to use one hand to rub his back rigorously through my sweater to generate more heat, while my other is free to fight.
Studying the man, I feel a strange sense of familiarity, and a mild sense of dread. All I can see of his face is his mouth and brown beard. The man is clearly bulky, and almost as large as me. Wide, likely well built. He seems to hesitate before lifting his head a little more to reveal his blue eyes. His gaze is hard, his brow is furrowed and he only looks away from me for mere seconds as he looks over the carnage before looking back to me.
"I see you haven't lost your touch, brother." That voice. It's the one I heard in my madness. Was he trying to stop me earlier?
"Hold, stranger." I wasn't sure what this guy was up to, but he knew we were being followed, and he's out here in the middle of the woods at this time of night on his own. I mean yeah, I was too, but the difference is I'm dressed in modern clothing, and this guy is wearing an old fur cloak like he's from the medieval era. "If you mean us no harm then you may approach, but may these dead men serve as a warning to what happens to those that wish to harm us." Why am I talking like this?
"So, your All-Tongue is returning to you." He smirks as he takes a step forward. "This is good. It means you are coming into your powers once more. You are ready. I found you just in time to."
"What do you speak of? All-Tongue? You speak in tongues! Be clear with me or meet my fists!" A crack of lightning and thunder go off around us a couple times. I'm still unsure as to why I'm talking the way I am, though I am basically getting my point across.
The weather threatens to act up again, but I still feel Billy shivering under my sweater so I work to keep it calm. It's tough with the pressure I am under right now while facing this man, but I won't quit now. This boy depends on my ability to remain level headed and find him something to warm up with.
"How about I give the boy my cloak, and you and I can talk?" The man approaches, closer, and closer, untying his cloak with one hand. I get ready for a trick, an attack, whatever it may be, but it never comes.
As he gets right in front of us I can smell a strong scent of various metals, copper an iron more than anything. Blood. That's what it is... and alcohol. As he fully removes his brown fur cloak, I look him over.
He has long brown hair pulled back and tied into a long braid, with the sides of his head shaved to the skin. A phrase in Norse runes is tattooed on the right side of his head. At first I'm not sure what it means, but almost a second after making that realization the runes form words in my head and I know it reads "Justice". On the left side he has a similar tattoo that reads war. The feeling that I know this guy is starting to bother me, especially since that feeling gets strong the more I look at him. It makes me uneasy, like I'm aware of being the target of a scam or prank but am not sure what the scam or prank is. Avoiding his intense stare, take in his attire.
He is wearing leathers, again, similar in fashion to what you'd expect from the medieval era, only that it looks to be Norse in make. Which makes sense given his tattoos I suppose. The attire is mostly coloured blue and brown, with some kind of gem stone attached to his belt. The thing that catches my eye the most is his right hand. Instead of a hand, he has a black metal wolf head attached to his wrist. It has red gemstones for eyes, and they almost look like they hold a roiling power in them. Who walks around with something like that? I mean, it looks cool, but seriously, who is this guy?
He gestures for me to present the child to him, but I just snatch the cloak out of his hands and pull Billy out from my sweater. Standing him up, I get him to remove his soaked clothes, down to only his underwear and I wrap him tight in the fur attire that this stranger has handed me. I remind him to stay awake, slapping his face every so often to do so. Billy is barely coherent at this point though, so I don't expect he's going to remember any of this.
"Thank you, for your aid. Now, tell me, who are you exactly? You're dressed like you belong at a viking renaissance fair." The man growls at this statement and I wonder what I said wrong. Whatever agitated him however passes quickly as he shakes his head and smiles.
"Of course, you are unaware of your true nature. Tell me, what is it exactly you think you are?" Oh great, he's going to do the whole 'I have such wisdom to bequeath you shtick.
"Enlighten me. I don't feel like playing these games tonight." He gives a boisterous laugh as he holds his stomach with his wolf head appendage.
"Brash as ever I see! You truly are my brother, Thor!" He bellows this so loudly that I can't really believe a man is standing in front of me. Those were the lungs of a giant, or some such thing. Maybe he's like me. Whatever I am. Wait, did he just call me what I think he called me?
"Sorry, I think I still have blood in my ears. Say that again?" There's no way he actually called me-
"You are Thor Odinson! God of Thunder! God of Lightning, Storms, Strength, the Sky, Agriculture, Sacred Groves and Trees, Hallowing, and last but definitely not least, fertility." Okay, this guy had to be high, or rather not on any drugs at all and should be.
"Oh, you don't say. What does that make you? Wait let me guess. Missing hand, tattoos of Justice and War on your head, in Norse runes no less, you must be Tyr Odinson." Tyr's big grin shrinks a bit as he definitely is catching onto my sarcasm.
"No need to be cheeky, little brother. I understand this might be hard to belie-"
"-Well, I don't believe it." Tyr's smile fades completely at this point and he wears an annoyed expression in its stead.
"Believe it or not, Thor you are."
"My name is Erik-"
"-Torsten, I'm aware. You think that was an accident? Even though she wanted nothing to do with us, your mother still named you after yourself. Honestly, it was quite clever. Who would think to look for somebody with a name honouring the gods and assume it's the actual god you're looking for? Not us. Not that we were only focusing on names. We spent 18 years looking for you. Well Ullr was the one tasked with searching, but my point stands. If it wasn't for your powers manifesting in response to your emotions, it would have taken us much longer to find you." This is starting to annoy me. I focus my attention down to Billy, the boy is barely staying conscious, but he's stopped shivering. Even though that is a good sign, I wonder how he recovered so quickly.
"Erik? Can I sleep now? I'm so tired." He yawns, undoubtedly drained from everything that's happened in the last thirty minutes. The poor kid. Nearly dies twice in less than ten minutes and now has to wake up to a world without his parents. Something in me burns, wishing to be able to kill the men I've already slain a second time, but I continue my breathing and focus on what's important. Billy's survival, and this clown in front of me trying to convince me that I'm a god.
"The cloak is enchanted with a 'heat' rune that keeps the wearer toasty. It's as if though he is laying next to the fires of Muspelheim, minus, the being scorched to death... and lack of Fire Jotunn." He chuckles at his apparent joke, but I do not find him to be all that amusing.
Touching Billy's head I feel that he indeed has had his body temp skyrocket, and judging from what my mother has taught me, that shouldn't be possible. At least not at this rate. He seems completely levelled out, and now he's so cozy and exhausted that he's fallen asleep.
At the sound of him lightly snoring I realize he is safe to rest and decide to leave him as is, pulling the hood over his little head to cover him from what remains of the inclement weather.
Looking back to Tyr, he just smiles at me, and I can tell the he can tell I'm stating to doubt my initial instinct about him.
"Let's look at the facts, little brother. You are far more powerful than your average human, your emotions effect the state of the weather, and you can understand my Aesir tongue without having any awareness of it in the first place." Damn it, when he puts it like that, it's hard to argue.
"Still, I could just be a meta-hum-"
"Enough. I will not hear that drivel. You think a mere mortal may wield the power of the elements in a manner equivalent to a god such as yourself? Ridiculous." Now it's my turn to laugh.
"I don't wield anything. If you haven't noticed, I don't really have control over it." Tyr grunts in response to my words before speaking up again.
"You will grow into your godhood once more. You just need time. Besides, you do wield it. Look at how you've managed to calm this raging storm. Where the sky was unleashing a relentless downpour just moments ago, it is now only drizzling lightly." He had a point there. Though I wasn't sure what he meant by 'once more'.
"I still don't think this is possible."
"It is possible brother. Why do you doubt?" He crosses his arms, studying me as I think about my response. It just doesn't make sense.
"If what you're saying is true, how is it that I'm an 18 year old who's read the stories about Thor and the Norse Pantheon? Am I actually thousands of years old and just don't remember? Is my mother not actually my mother?" Tyr's eyebrows raise as I speak and he nods his head in understanding.
I can hear the sirens now of the first responders of the nearest town. They will probably be here in ten minutes. Part of me wondered if the man claiming to be the Norse God of War intended on staying or fleeing. Either way, I had a feeling I wouldn't be seeing the last of him today, no matter how we parted ways.
He smiles as he puts his hand over his face and contemplates something for a moment before muttering something like 'All-Father help me'. Putting his hand down and looking me dead in the eye. He looks now like he's seen a ghost. Why now all of the sudden, does he have that look?
"You died." I wasn't expecting that answer.
"What?" I'm pretty sure I'm not dead. So what is he talking about?
"I lied earlier, or rather, didn't explain the full story. We've been looking for you for 18 years. But, the last Thor, we've been looking for over a thousand." What the hell?
"Wait. Since when did the Norse Pantheon believe in reincarnation?" He shakes his head as he turns to leave.
"Ask your mother. She has the answers you seek." Of course she does. God damn it. "Oh and I wouldn't stick around for the authorities if I were you. Odin has many enemies that would delight in killing you, and you are getting more and more obvious by the day. If after your conversation with your mother you decide you want to know more than what she can or is willing to offer, to find your purpose, your place among the gods, then meet me back here. Tomorrow. I'll take you where you need to go." With that he disappears into the woods, leaving me tempted to chase after him right there.
I of course decide against it. Looking around, I do see his point about not waiting around. Looking down at Billy, I see that he is still sleeping and I make him a promise.
"I will find you again. When I do, I'll make sure you're all set up. Hell, I'll adopt you if I have to. Or get my mom to since I might not be eligible at my age." Walking over to the driest spot I can find, I place Billy down on the ground, away from the carnage, but still visible and out of the way of being run over by the emergency response vehicles.
Taking one last look down at the boy I wish him luck, and pray to Frigga, the mother to all and protector of children that she may watch over him. It's funny, I don't normally pray. My mother always told me most gods aren't worth trusting with anything. I always felt it odd that she felt so strongly, but as a result I was raised an atheist. Now... I don't know. I just wanted to make sure I was doing everything I could for the boy and for some reason, despite my doubts about this alleged 'Tyr' character, it felt appropriate.
Shaking my head at the events of the night I break off into a sprint, heading towards my home in Faucet City.
I had some questions for my mother.