What a Viking Fears

“She seems content.” Acharius sighed. His tone eeking of sarcasm as he entered the library.

“Do you truly garner pleasure from tormenting her?” Acharius strode over to take a seat. His massive size encompassing the chair. Long legs drawn up awkwardly.

You've no idea.

“Immensely.” Bast flashed even teeth. “I can’t express how much.”

“Because she reacts so heatedly, no doubt?” Acharius thumbed his nose. “You never could resist a challenge.”

She's albeit more than a challenge.

She's immune to my animalistic charm.

“Most likely.” Bast dropped into his favorite red and gold chair. Opposite Acharius. Both seats faced the fire to savor the view, if not the warmth. “What are you doing here, Friend? You come so rarely.”

“I needed a break from the Hideout.”

“From watching over the treasury?”

“Yes.” Acharius sighed, taking a tiny shelled nut from the dish on the table and rolling it between his thumb and finger thoughtfully before carefully cracking it in his huge fist and tossing the fragments into the fire. “I’m honored to do the work, but it does grow tedious.”

“So, you come to me for entertainment?”

“Merely to mock you.” Acharius gestured to the floor above them. His tone flat.

“You’re a cold man, Friend.”

“My Norse blood.” Acharius acknowledged. “Any word of Chavias?”

Somber twist. Bast noted of the sudden change in conversation. Typical Acharius fashion.

“Are you missing him?”

“Of course. He trained me in swordplay. I knew him well.” He paused to eye a walnut. “As well as someone can know Chavias, I suppose.”

“You likely did know him. He was not easy to get close to, but fiercely loyal to those he favored. None dare say he didn’t speak his mind.”

“I miss that.” Acharius said. “Save you, we all fear upsetting the others with harsh words. Afraid we’ll lose the only pseudo family we have...”

So deep for such a lumbering giant. Bast assessed. There’s always more to Acharius then what meets the eye.

Acharius had lost much of his family to tribal wars amongst the vikings. And once they were gone he'd seen little need for the heritage that had once seemed so important. And he'd begun to look at the world differently.

His vast intelligence made him ill-suited to remain a pillaging viking indefinetly.

Acharius had a way of looking at something and seeing the entirety of the picture. But with that great responsibility came the constant fear of the worst-case scenario.

He tends to worry over much about what could happen.

Bast grunted as he leaned back in his chair. Gripping his armrests as his strange blue-green eyes reflected the fire.

“Why do you not fear losing them?” Acharius' out-of-context question surprised him.

"Who?" Bast's head shot up.

"Our brethren."

“Everyone needs me now and then.” His gaze flicked back to the dancing orange and reds within the fireplace.

I'm the only one that can hear them all. Able to sense their thoughts, especially while residing in WaterRose. The stronghold served to collect their magic and made Sebastian's powers more potent when within it.

“To save their ass! 'Tis a fact.” Acharius laughed coldly. “The great Protector.” Acharius grunted. “I hope to never need you.”

Everyone does eventually...Bast gave him a thoughtful look.

“You could best most men in swordplay and all in archery.” He remarked.

“Except Chavias.” Acharius said solemnly. “He’s killing our own now, you know?”

Something I'd rather not discuss...

“I’ve heard.” Bast’s voice dropped and he shifted uncomfortably. Wishing to discuss anything but this topic.

Acharius’ sharp eye caught the movement. “I can see your dissension, Brother. Let’s speak of lighter things.”

“Then please do not ask me of Raese. That is certainly no lighter. Everyone asks if I’ve found him. As if I wouldn’t scream it to the rafters of WaterRose, if I did.”

Acharius’ brows lifted at the slight agitation in his friend’s voice. “Fair. I will not…The Captain’s mate then?”

“No word yet.” Bast glanced around the library. “But I will find her.”

“You always do.” Acharius bit into another nut. Rising he plucked a bit of shell from his white tunic, bidding Bast good night. He discarded the remaining shells in the fire, making it spit and crackle before turning to return to his lair.

Bast’s voice made him pause in the doorway. “Have you seen Tev? I know he’s hiding in the Netherlands.”

“No. Not since…” Acharius reared back slightly, surprised at the nearness of his hideout. “How long do you think he’ll stay away?”

“It’s hard to tell. His guilt is a powerful thing.”

“He’s struggled ever since the cabin…”

The cabin where Deragan’s mate had died in the Black Mountains.

“Don’t mention that.” Bast snapped. “That wasn’t his fault.”

“No…” Acharius turned it over. “He did the right thing…I’ll keep an eye open for him.” He sighed.

“You know how careless our Little Brother can be. I worry for him in isolation.” Bast murmured. A note of concern entering his voice as he sat watching the fire licking the log in the grate.

Acharius nodded thoughtfully. The Netherlands very closely bordered the Dread Hideout, where Acharius was returning.

Back to his lonely caves. Bast could see the forlorn tilt of Acharius’ shoulders. Feel the dread overtaking him as he left.