[Flashback] Prelude to madness

[Erik Vrell]

The young psychic, one of many in the orphanage hall, spooned the thin gruel that they called food into his mouth. The off-white paste was watery and flavourless, but filled the child’s stomach. He wasn't sure if he could stomach real food, anyway. He still struggled to recall the last few days without breaking into a fit of tears. Not that anyone expected a four year old to recover from almost being burnt alive so quickly. Erik’s eyes snapped up as there was a knock at the door. The orphanages matron, a kindly old woman that the children called ‘Grandma Siv’, answered the door. A look of shock crossed her face as her gaze met whoever had knocked, and she moved back to let them in quickly. 

“Elder Magnus, Lady Ingrid, I'm sorry, I wasn't prepared for your arrival.” The matron said as she self-consciously checked over her unkempt robes. 

A couple entered the room, dropping the room into silence, only broken by the chewing of the oblivious children, unaware of exactly who had just walked into the room. The man was heavily built, his muscles visible even through his royal blue robes, and at least six foot tall. His scarred, menacing face was set into a hard expression, his long, blonde beard doing nothing to alleviate his intimidating aura. Erik wondered why Grandma Siv called him ‘elder’ when she was clearly older than him. The woman he was with was much gentler in appearance. She had a thin, willowy look to her, but also carried an air of elegance. Her light blue eyes and long, brown hair reminded Erik of himself and, choking back a sob at the thought, his mother. 

“I was told that a new child was rescued just a few days ago, another blessed with the gift.” The man’s voice was just as harsh as his appearance, rough like he had swallowed a mouthful of gravel. 

“It's true.” Grandma Siv said with a hesitant nod. “Three being born in a lifetime, let alone within five years. What do you make of it, elder?”

The man was silent for a moment.

“I don't know. I'll have to discuss this the other elders, this is more than a simple gift from Father Gal’skap. That aside, may I see the child?” 

“Of course.” Grandma Siv said with another nod. The old woman scanned the meal hall for someone, before her gaze fell on Erik. For a moment the boy thought he was going to be scolded for eavesdropping, but to his surprise, Grandma Siv led the couple over to where he was eating. 

“Erik, this is Elder Magnus and Lady Ingrid.” The matron said gently. 

“Hello.” Erik said quietly, unsure of what was happening.

“Hello, Erik.” Magnus said, trying unsuccessfully to appear a little less terrifying. “Siv tells me that you have a special talent. Could you show me?”

A sinking feeling stabbed into the pit of Erik’s stomach. The last time he had used his ‘talent’ he was almost burned alive. The boy looked down and shook his head.

“I don't have anything like that.” He whispered, barely audible over the chatter of the hall. “You don't need to burn me.” 

Magnus shot a confused look at Grandma Siv, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“The village we rescued him from tried to burn him at the stake for showing his gift.” She said, eliciting a choked sob from the young Erik. Magnus’s face twisted into a mask of disgust.

“Backwards, heathenous animals.” He spat under his breath, once again failing to avoid intimidating the boy. Erik wiped away tears and looked up as he felt a hand on his shoulder. He found himself face to face with the woman Grandma Siv called Ingrid. She looked at him gently and beamed a warm smile at him.

“It's ok,” She whispered reassuringly. “You're safe here. Can you show us what you can do, please?” Her words seemed to out Erik’s soul at ease, calming the boiling storm of emotions in his stomach. Drying the last of his tears, Erik nodded and focused on the spoon he had been eating with. The boy felt something move inside him, something he had only felt a few times before, like a muscle in his mind, and the spoon lifted itself off the table. The feeling of using the mental muscle again was surprisingly pleasant, like stretching after sitting down for a long time, and Erik found himself unconsciously lifting the chair he was sitting. Alarmed, Erik placed himself and the spoon back onto the ground, hoping that they wouldn't think he was unnatural, just like his village.

“That's what I can do.” He said quietly, unsure of whether he should be making or avoiding eye contact, choosing to switch between the two every couple of seconds. The Elder and his wife exchanged glances for a moment, before sharing a silent nod. Magnus gently placed a heavy hand on Erik’s shoulder.

“I know you're still hurt about the last few days, but how would you like to come live with us, and another two children just like you?” The elder said, doing a little better to assure Erik he was safe.

“Like me?” Erik parroted. There were more kids like him? That meant that he'd be safe there…He didn't have any family to go back to anyway, other than the one who had tried, and succeeded, to get rid of him. “Yes, I would like that.” 

The couple smiled widely at the young psychic. “Fantastic. From this day forward, your name shall be Erik Vrell. Come on, then. We have a long way to go to get home.”

Erik Vrell. The boy liked the sound of that. Ingrid beamed down at him as she took his hand and lead him out of the orphanage. 

“You're going to love living with us.” She said quietly. In contrast to her loud, rough husband, Erik noted that everything she did seemed gentle and reserved. “This is the first day of the happiest time of your life.”

[Erik Vrell]

Many years had passed since the day of Erik’s adoption, the young, quivering boy gradually becoming a formidable psychic in service of the mad God. The psychic was in bed on one particularly frosty morning, even more so than most mornings in the north. A knock on his door roused the reluctant cultist from his slumber, his sister’s voice calling to him through the door.

“Erik! Wake up, father is calling for you!” Freya called, her voice obscenely cheery for the bitter morning, as always.

“I’m coming.” Erik replied groggily as he climbed out of bed. The psychic’s chambers were comfortable enough, as to be expected of the room of an elder’s son, but sometimes Erik couldn't help but dream of what his quarters would be like if he was part of a less monastic cult. The psychic slipped on his tunic and trousers before donning his mindbreaker cloak. Mageslayer hung faithfully at his side, just as it had done everyday since he had forged it on his tenth birthday. 

The psychic yawned as he opened his door and stepped outside, his yawn cut short by sudden shivering as the cold air hit him. Freya grinned at him brightly despite the chill, manic joy ever present in her slightly violet tinted eyes. 

“I thought you'd never get up.” She said, moving next to her brother as they walked down the quiet halls of their home. 

“You can feel the cold as much as I can, surely you didn't find it easy to get up?” Erik replied in his typical monotone. 

“The only chill I'm feeling here is from you.” The priestess teased. Despite being adopted siblings, Erik and Freya couldn't have looked more alike, nor could they be much closer had they been related by blood. Both were thin and pale, with similar shades of brown hair and blue eyes, although Freya’s heavy use of psi had stained her irises a slight purple. The pair spent much of their time together when not occupied with something else, although being busy was a common occurrence for mindbreakers of noble descent.

“What does father want?” Erik inquired. He hadn't done anything wrong, but a faint sense of nerves always seemed to bore into Erik whenever his father wanted to speak with him privately. When you were as busy as Magnus Vrell, one on one talks rarely happened without good cause.

“I was told he has a job for you.” Freya replied, sending a shock of relief through Erik. “Something about the tombguards.”

“Hmm? The death priests?” Erik inquired. The mindbreaker temple city was built in close proximity to another belonging to a cult of the death God, albeit a much smaller one. Through means lost to history, the severely less populated tombguard cult fell under both the protections and the influence of the much more powerful mindbreaker order, and interactions between the two cults were common. 

“You’ll soon find out.” Freya said, as the pair neared Magnus’ office. Erik reached for the door handle, but Freya stopped him before he could open the door. “He wanted Brynhild here, too.” 

“So it's probably not going to be a quiet day, then?” Erik mused at the new information. Brynhild was his retainer, a handpicked bodyguard and friend to stay by his side at all times, just in case. While tough, spirited and determined, the girl wasn't the greatest at the ‘all times’ part of her job. “Should I go look for her?”

“No need.” Freya said, her eyes flashing with violet energy for a moment. “She’ll be here in three, two-” Before the priestess could finish her sentence, the sound of frantic footsteps became audible down the hallway. The retainer shot around the corner before skidding to a halt before Erik, panting hard.

“Erik… You shouldn't... do that... to me…” The blonde mindbreaker said between heavy breaths. “I nearly had a heart attack, I thought you'd been abducted!” 

“And where were you?” Erik asked. “Our rooms are next to each other for a reason, you must have heard Freya.” 

Brynhild’s face flushed red as she averted her gaze. “I was indisposed.” She said, which Erik took to mean that she was in the bathroom, not an uncommon occurrence. 

“No matter.” Erik said. “Although one of these days I might actually be assassinated while you're ‘indisposed.’” 

“Don't say that, it makes me too nervous to use toilet.” She replied.

“Well, I'd best be going.” Freya cut in. “Good luck, you two.” 

“Thanks, Freya.”

“Thank you, Lady Freya.”

“Well, let's see what this is about.” Erik said as he knocked on the door of his father’s study.

“Come in.” The gruff voice of Magnus Vrell called from within. The two younger psychics entered the office, meeting the harsh gaze of the mindbreaker elder. “Welcome, Erik, Brynhild.” 

“Hello father.”

“Greetings, elder Magnus.”

“I asked you here for a very important job.” Magnus said as he crossed his arms, cutting an imposing figure even while seated at his desk. “You are familiar with Minerva Auger, correct?”

“The sister of the tombguard high elder, that Minerva Auger?” Erik asked, a sinking feeling manifesting in his stomach. The psychic had never met the girl but his relationship with her brother, Marcus Auger was somewhat tense, especially after the witch he was attempting to woo destroyed half a dozen buildings in a magical nova, receiving an ‘I told you so.’ from Erik.

“You don't hear about many other Minervas this far north, do you? Anyways, one of our priests extracted a piece of information from a captured mage about an assassination plot on the girl, and you two, are going to the tombguard necropolis to make sure it doesn't happen.” Magnus said grimly. “And please, try to be a little conspicuous. We want them caught and executed, not just scared off.

“Of course, father, we’ll leave for the city as soon as possible.” Erik said. 

“Very well.” Magnus Vrell said, nodding slightly as Erik and Brynhild turned to leave. “Oh, and if you see your brother, can you send him and his retainers here, please?”

“Which one?” Erik asked, turning to face the elder.

“Sigurd. Didn't Freya tell you that I've already spoken to her and Ormund?” Magnus said, a slight hint of surprise in his stony face.

“She didn't, and I will. I’ll see you within the week, father.” Erik called back as he and Brynhild left the room.

“I hope so…” The elder psychic said quietly when his son was out of earshot.

Once they were far enough away from Magnus’ office, Brynhold sighed with relief. 

“Thank Gal’skap, he didn't say anything about me leaving you unguarded.” She said. Magnus was notoriously strict about his retainers protecting his children with every inch of their being, despite the fact that every Vrell was a formidable fighter in their own right. So far, Brynhild’s early morning lapses in vigilance had gone unreported to the elder, despite their frequency.

“Maybe I should say something.” Erik said, shooting a sideways glance at the girl. “Surely that will encourage you to hold it in until I wake up.” 

“Erik! That's not funny.” She hissed as they approached the intersection of a corridor.

“Are we discussing Brynhild’s morning episodes in the chamber pot?” Erik’s younger brother, Sigurd said as he rounded the corner, a grin plastered on his face. 

“Lord Sigurd, not you too!” Brynhild groaned as the sandy haired Vrell chuckled.

“Morning, brother.” 

“Good morning, Erik, Bryndhild. Where are you two off to?” Sigurd asked curiously. “Not traipsing off together, are we?” 

“Not this again.” Erik said, his expression darkening, drawing giggles from the younger Vrell. Typically being the elder sibling would earn some respect, but Erik was only six months Sigurd’s senior, so it didn't count for much between the brothers. Brynhild blushed violently at the remark, only amplifying Sigurd’s laughter.

“Oh, by the way, father wants to see you.” Erik said, having learned to silence his brother’s ribbings over the years.

Sigurd’s laughter was cut short by Erik’s announcement. “He isn't upset, is he?” Of the four Vrell children, Sigurd was easily caught in hot water with their father the most, largely due to not showing enough respect to the other elders and their families. 

“I assume he just has a job for you, although only Gal’skap knows what he might say. Bring your retainers with you, too.” Erik said. Although most elders and their children only had one retainer, Magnus saw fit to give Sigurd three, solely to try to keep him in line. While it was moderately successful, the boy had surprising success in slipping away from his guards. 

“Ah, ok, thanks.” Sigurd said as he dashed off to find his retainers. 

“Father will kill him when he finds out he slipped away again.” Erik said, drawing a giggle from Brynhild. “Come on, let's get going quickly. I'm eager to see what Marcus has been up to while we’ve been gone.”

“Erik, please, we don't need any more buildings burning down.” Brynhild said. The hardest part of her job wasn't when someone tried to kill Erik, it was when he was around the young tombguard man.

“Hey now, that was the witch, not me.” 

“What about the other time?”

“Well… Let's just go, okay?”

[Erik Vrell]

Erik sighed as he took in the fresh mountain air, he and Brynhild arriving in the tombguard necropolis. While the architecture of the city was nice enough, a vast majority of it was either white, grey or black, and the only decoration was the occasionally skull mural. He couldn't help but miss the twisting, unpredictable style that his home temple city had. 

The few people walking through the streets of the small city barely noticed the pair as they rode in, most of them being used to seeing mindbreakers in their city and the remainder simply not caring. Stabling their horses, Erik and Brynhild made their way to the great temple at the heart of the city, the meeting place Marcus had arranged for them. A pair of tombguard stood sentinel at the main entrance.

“Erik Vrell and Brynhild Havard, here to see the high elder.” Erik said. The guards looked uncertain for a moment, before one cracked the door open and called inside. 

“A pair of mindbreakers here for you, high elder. One says he's a Vrell.” 

“Let them in.” A low voice called from within. The guards obeyed, opening the doors up for the psychics. The pair entered the temple, coming face to face with the high elder of the tombguards. Marcus Augur was unnaturally tall, surpassing 6’6”, and freakishly thin, looking appropriately like an oversized skeleton. His face did nothing to change his appearance, his eyes sunken with dark circles under them, and his face thin. He wore all black, even his hair, as if he were attending a funeral, a common custom among the priesthood of the death God. Despite all this, Marcus considered himself a lady’s man for reasons that escaped Erik. The only the he had going for him was his age, only two years above Erik, making him the youngest high elder in tombguard history. Unfortunately, the position of tombguard high elder had been reduced to little more than a title.

“Ah, Erik Vrell. Always a pleasure.” The high elder drawled derisively. 

“Now now, Marcus, don't forget that we are of the same rank.” Erik chided, a small grin crossing his face. Marcus’ expression darkened at the comment. The fact that the mindbreakers held more sway over his cult than he did was a sore subject for him.

“Hmph. Ah, Brynhild, a sight for sore eyes after seeing this one.” Marcus said, both ignoring Erik’s comment and motioning to the priest simultaneously.

“Hello, high elder Marcus.” Brynhild sighed, cautious to contain her annoyance at the tombguard’s flirting lest Erik start harassing him harder. 

“I assume you both know why you're here?” Marcus inquired.

“Of course.” Erik responded. “We’re here to protect your sister.”

“Indeed. It is of utmost importance that she stays safe. I don't know what I'd do if I lost her…” Marcus said, a splash of worry creeping into his expression. “You haven't met yet, have you? Minerva! The mindbreakers are here!”

“Coming.” A female voice called from a side corridor, followed by the tapping of feet on black marble. The tombguard priestess turned the corner and speed walked over to the psychics, shaking their hands. Erik’s first impression of the girl was nothing like her brother. She was a little younger than Erik, by no more than half a year by his estimate, and shared the pale complexion and pitch black hair, of Marcus. Her face was fairly normal looking, barring slight dark circles under her eyes, and her expression was surprisingly cheery for a servant of the death God. While her height was fairly normal, she seemed short compared to her freakishly tall brother. She wore black, just as her brother did, but Erik couldn't help but notice a splash of colour in the bracelet she wore, breaking the dreary monotony. The first word that came to Erik’s mind was ‘pretty’, but he quickly shoved those thoughts away. If not because of his celibacy, because he just couldn't get along with her brother. 

“A pleasure to meet you.” Minerva grinned as she vigorously shook the hands of the mindbreakers. 

“And you too.” Erik said as he mentally contacted Marcus

“Does she know she's being targeted?” Erik asked telepathically.

“She does.” Marcus silently replied. “But she refuses to let it dampen her spirit.”

Erik couldn't help but find her endurance admirable as she shook Brynhild’s hand. 

“So, Minerva, just do what you'd normally do today, and these two will protect you.” Marcus said, pulling his sister into a brief hug. “Please, stay safe though.”

“I will.” She replied, waving her brother goodbye as she left the temple, her new bodyguards in tow. The trio walked in silence for a moment before Minerva turned back to Erik.

“So you're Erik Vrell, huh?” She asked.

“I am.” The priest responded, a little confused about where it was going.

“My brother has told me a lot about you.” The tombguard said brightly, causing Erik’s stomach to drop. What lies had Marcus fed the girl? “Like how you use the crippled as fodder when you go into battle, and that you're romantically involved with your sister.”

“Don't believe him!” Erik almost shouted, not wanting to girl to think he was a little too close with Freya. It wouldn't be the first time Marcus had tried to circulate that rumour.

“Don't worry.” Minerva giggled. “I know he's making stuff up. Like the building he said you burned down, we all know that was just a rogue fire.”

“Yeah.” Erik laughed nervously. “Of course.”

“And I've heard a lot about you too, Brynhild.” Minerva said, turning to the retainer. 

“Eh? You have?” Brynhild said, surprised.

“Yeah. You probably don't want to hear what he said about you, though.” The tombguard said, shuddering slightly.

“Was it that bad?”

“No, he only said good things about you. Too good…”

Erik and Brynhild shared a disturbed look, while the retainer quietly resolved never to be left alone with Marcus. 

“So, what do you do?” Erik inquired, curious about where he would be following the girl.

“Well, first I need to go perform some final rites, then do some grave digging, then pray, then I go home to eat, then sleep.” Minerva said. “Normally I have more time, but you got here a little late, so I’m getting no time off today until I finish my prayers.”

“Oh, my apologies.” Erik said, feeling guilty about robbing the girl of her time.

“No matter, it gave me time to sleep in this morning at least.” She said, smiling cheerfully. “Come on, the graveyard is right up ahead.”

[Erik Vrell]

Erik and Brynhild watched a small distance away as Minerva gave a dead priest his final rites, filling his grave in as she went. 

“What do you think?” Brynhild asked, breaking the silence.

“Of what?” 

“Minerva.” 

“She's nice, and leagues cheerier than her brother.” Erik replied, picking his words carefully. The last thing he needed was for his retainer to realise he was attracted to the tombguard girl, lest she demand favours in exchange for not telling Sigurd.

“Why do you think someone wants her dead?” Brynhild wondered out loud.

“To get to Marcus, I assume.” Erik replied, watching as the death priestess moved onto the next grave. Brynhild murmured her agreement with his theory. 

“Do you have any idea who’s behind it?” She asked.

“Well… I doubt they're from another cult. The tombguard don't have many foes among the faithful, and those they have are too small to consider drawing our attention. And those without any powers wouldn't even think of it.” Erik said, scratching his chin with thought.

“Do you think it's a coven, then?” Brynhild said, tilting her head to the side in curiosity.

“I'd wager on it. No idea what their gripe with Marcus or the tombguard is, but they must be large to consider attacking them.” The priest said, a hint of dread in his voice at the thought of a large coven of witches and magi.

“What are we talking about?” Minerva said brightly as she stabbed her shovel into the ground, having finished giving the last body their last rites.

“Nothing important.” Erik said, conscious not to reply too quickly. 

“If you say so. Care to help me with the grave digging?” Minerva asked. “I don't mean to trouble you but it's slow work, and I could use some more hands.”

“Of course.” Erik said, perhaps a little too eagerly. If it bothered Minerva, however, she didn't show it. 

“Great!” She said with a smile. “Let me just grab a couple of shovels.” 

The trio got to work digging new graves, the air silent except for the clanking sound of shovels striking the frosty earth. Minerva worked diligently, a faint smile on her face even as she chipped away at the cold dirt. Erik and Brynhild were slightly less focused on their digging, however, their eyes darting around to ensure no assailants came out of the thin, wispy fog unseen. Fortunately, or possibly unfortunately, no assassins showed themselves, and within a few hours the trio had dug a dozen graves between themselves. Erik wiped sweat from his brow as Minerva announced that they had done enough work for the day. Despite the chill in the air, the work was surprisingly taxing and he found himself almost dripping with sweat. Brynhild and Minerva had fared no better, although the tombguard didn't seem to mind. The mindbreaker girl, however, wasn't feeling the positivity.

“Erik.” She hissed telepathically. “You didn't tell me we’d be doing so much hard labour.”

“I didn't know myself.” He replied with a shrug.

“I’m drenched in my own sweat and I stink!” She thought dramatically, a sour look crossing her face. “Please tell me that they have baths here.”

“They have baths, they're not savages.” Erik said, almost rolling his eyes. “Don't go running off to the bathroom when you should be guarding me, though.”

The retainer simply grunted in annoyance at her charge. 

“Come on, let's go back to my house to wash ourselves off.” Minerva said, beckoning for the mindbreakers to follow her. The pair obeyed wordlessly, both glad to be able to wash themselves, although Erik was much more reserved than his half-annoyed, half-celebrating retainer. 



Erik had imagined that the Augur house would be nice, but didn't expect the mansion that awaited him.

“Just you and your brother live here?” Erik asked, struggling to keep the incredulous tone out of his voice. 

“Yep, ever since our parents, uh, passed on.” Minerva said, a small hint of sadness slipping into her voice. Erik was crushed to see the cheerful girl upset, even just a mote. 

“I'm sorry.” He said, unsure of what else to do. Most priests in the north had heard when two high ranking tombguards were killed, leaving their son in charge as the youngest high elder in the cult’s history, but that did little to soften the impact when Minerva’s smile dropped for a moment.

“It’s alright, I know you didn't mean to offend. You're in a similar boat, are you not?” She said, her eyes full of sympathy as they swept over Erik.

“Well… About half as much as you, I suppose.” Erik said, choking a little on his words. 

“Don’t worry.” She said, flashing the mindbreaker a reassuring smile. “We’ll be reunited with them in the afterlife some day.” The priest nodded back at the girl. It offered some respite, of course, but didn't completely numb the sting of loss.

“Let me show you inside.” Minerva said, seemingly back to her cheerful self. “Marcus should still be out, so you don't need to worry about, well, butting heads with him.” 

“Damn…” Erik muttered under his breath, but apparently not low enough to escape Brynhild’s ears. 

“Erik!” She hissed. “What did I tell you.” 

“Don't worry, we won't have another game of ‘who can throw the other off the mountain first’. Unless he's dumb enough to want a rematch.” He replied, almost a grinning at the exasperated expression on his retainer’s face. Entering the manor, Erik’s jabs at Brynhild were silenced by awe. Looking even more regal inside than out, the manor had no expense spared in its construction. The interior of the building was made of fine wood, rather than the stone and various eldritch materials most of the mindbreaker temple city was constructed from, including the Vrell household. 

“By the Gods…” Erik said in wonder, drawing a giggle from Minerva. 

“It is quite impressive, isn't it.” She said. “Oh, my apologies, I don't mean to brag. Let me show you to the guest baths.” The tombguard led her bodyguards up a flight of polished stairs and down a hall to a marvellously constructed marble bathroom. 

“Who shall go first?” Brynhild asked, a desperate look in her eye. Erik sighed, deciding that he had tormented his retainer enough for today.

“Go ahead.” He said wearily. 

“Oh, bless you, Erik!” She said, hugging him roughly for a second before rushing into the bathroom. The priest couldn't help but chuckle to himself at the girl. 

“I hope you don't mind waiting.” Erik said, turning to Minerva. “It's just best to let her go when she gets like that.”

“Oh, it's fine.” Minerva said, smiling warmly, before averting her gaze slightly. “So, are you two…” 

“Hmm? Oh, Gods no. We’re just close, she's been my retainer since I was ten, maybe younger.” The psychic, chuckling slightly.

“Retainer?” The tombguard inquired, staring blankly. 

“You don't know what a retainer is? I guess the tombguard don't have them…” Erik thought out loud. “She was assigned to me as my bodyguard and companion when we were young.”

“Ah, I see.” Minerva said. “And you really don't have any romantic feelings for her?” 

“No, we’re really just good friends.” Erik insisted. “My love for her is purely platonic.” 

“So why are you standing so close to the bathroom door?” The tombguard girl inquired.

“We can't be further apart than we can communicate telepathically.” He said. “So I can't get too far away.” 

“Hmm. And you've never tried to sneak a peek?” Minerva asked, her grin growing slightly as she teased the mindbreaker.

“No, of course not.” Erik said, the wise words of his brother ringing in his ears as he spoke.

‘Look, Erik, you've got a prime opportunity. I know the rules, okay, as long as you don't touch her or yourself to the thought of her, you're not doing anything wrong!’

The pair idly chatted while Brynhild bathed, until the priestess emerged from the bathroom in a clean tunic. She still wore her cloak, which had managed to stay clear of sweat.

“Where did that come from?” Erik inquired.

“There's clean clothes in the bathroom, it's amazing!” She said. 

“I’ll get someone to take your clothes for cleaning.” Minerva said, before turning to Erik. “Do you want to go next?”

“No, you can go.”

“Oh, thank you.” The tombguard said as she entered the bathroom. Erik stretched his tired muscles as he waited for his turn, before noticing that Brynhild was grinning at him.

“What?” He asked, having no idea what she could be grinning at.

“You said you love me.” She grinned.

“Platonically.” Erik corrected.

“Eh, it's the best any girl other than Freya has gotten.” The retainer said with a shrug, before lowering her voice so just Erik could hear her. “Well, Minerva might be coming to take that title, though.”

“Huh?” Erik asked, thankful for his ability to restrain his emotions, keeping his surprise in check.

“We’ve shared a psychic link for almost ten years, reading each other's emotions is so easy you don't even realise you're doing it most of the time.” She said, smiling wryly. 

There was a moment of silence between the two mindbreakers. “Okay, what do you want?”

“At least two variations of ‘you’re amazing, Brynhild’ a day for the next week, and you have to do my share of our chores.” 

“Fine…” Erik said, exasperated. At least it beat having Sigurd tease him about his infatuation with Minerva. That truly was a fate worse than death.