25 Everan Faust

_Everan Faust_

Like a caged animal, Everan paced his cell back and forth, harassing the guards on and off for hours. His black and red hair was ratty and wild, though shaved to the scalp on both sides. He was covered from head to toe in dry mud that was starting to pinch at him uncomfortably but he paid it no mind. They had stripped him of his thick leathers and furs, only leaving him in a thin, stained off-white shirt that was loose as if it were too big. It was tucked into his trousers, which themselves were made of leather.

It was not as cold here where they had taken him so he did not mine the loss of a few layers. Not to mention, you could see his arms now, which were more toned than any knife-ear he had seen. He wanted to break their necks with his bare hands- and from the looks of it he could likely do just that.

Everan's people worshiped the beast gods, and thus they tended to act rather wild and unkempt. However, Everan was the worst of these. Though he did have self control, he let himself act in a terrible manner- allowing vulgarities and animalistic growls flow from him freely. He had an easily controllable temper too- one that he let flow as it wished. And he supposed that now was the time to showcase it.

"I'm worth nothing as a prisoner," He told the guard in an almost threatening tone, pacing his cell in an aggravated manner. "As soon as I lost the fight with that knife-eared noble, I was a dead man." He hissed, coming to grip the bars and glare daggers at the guard stationed down the hall from his cell. 

Like all things the knife-ears made and took care of- their prisons were clean. Cells unoccupied by prisoners were cleaned out and made free of disease- so it was safe to say that Everan would last quite a while down here if they were to keep him alive. However, his mouth might rid him of that last part.

"Let me out of here!" He roared suddenly, slamming his hands on the bars. They thumped and vibrated but were otherwise unaffected, the guard flinched and glanced at him but said nothing to his outburst. "I'll kill you first," Everan threatened, but that did nothing. "No... what are you... twenty-eight seasons? Thirty perhaps? Do you have a wife? I know your people like to do that marriage ritual," He muttered aloud, resting his head against the cool bars. His hair slipped down, going past his shoulders and ending somewhere along his midsection.

Everan's people did not care for hair, typically they kept it long but if they were feeling particularly annoyed they would cut it off. The wild folk did not care for such social matters as grooming. He could not remember the last time he brushed his own hair. Perhaps he would shave the whole thing to his scalp if he survived this.

If he survived. 

Everan wasn't making that seem like a very viable option for himself. "I bet your wife is pretty- blonde too. Or perhaps she has white hair- I know your people like them fair. Beast folk aren't picky like the knife ears- we take all of them- even the ugly ones." He said with a grin, but it faded fast as his face grew dark.

"It'll be a shame though," He started. "That your wife would meet such a tragic end." His tone conveyed a mock sympathy but his glaring eyes betrayed him. 

The guard turned to look at him now, seemingly not understanding what it was that Everan was saying- but it was hard to tell through that shiny helmet of his. "Because once I take her, I'll give her to my men to play with- and the wild folk are no gentle lovers." He said lowly.

He thought he saw the guard grow red behind his helmet, but he otherwise looked away, trying to ignore him. Everan continued, just to upset him more. "I wonder what kind of noises she'll make... You know, I hear that knife-ear women are very innocent- the men too. I bet you I'll do things to her that will make her come crawling back as if you never existed!" He said with a laugh.

The guard seemed to be seething through his shiny reflective armor. Everan only laughed at this, looking up at him through the bars of the cell. "You have any sisters, knife-ear? Or perhaps you have a mother- if she didn't die when your big pointy eared head ripped through her. Perhaps I'll have you watch whilst I-"

"That is enough!" The guard yelled at him now, marching to the cell and reaching through the bars to grab Everan by the throat and hold him hard. On instinct, Everan's hands came to grip the man by his arm tightly, but made no move to pull him off. His yellow honey eyes blazed into the guards eyes. "You are a vulgar beast!"

"But it is you who is the vulgar one," Everan said now, running his hands up the man's armored arm. "Grabbing throats is an extremely sexual thing to do in beast folk culture." He said with wide eyes that the guard mirrored.

As if on cue, the man let go almost immediately but Everan was not ready to forgive him. Immediately after the man let go, Everan slammed the man's arm against the bars, holding it straight. The man screamed out as a disgusting crunch rang around the room, his shoulder breaking. "I lied, you sure are gullible, aren't you?" The man tried to pull away from the bars but Everan still had a vice-like grip on the man's arm.

He reached up and pulled the man's head to the bars, letting go of his arm. It was an awkward thing, to rip the man's helmet from his head and take fistfuls of his blonde hair and pull his head through the bars. He was caught by his shoulders that would not let his body past. Was he screaming? Everan could not tell from the sound of his heart in his head.

He had not been expecting any of this himself, but he was not displeased with it. The boy often acted without thinking- something his father had continuously scolded him about. But none of that mattered now. They were going to behead him soon- why not speed up the process?

Everan pulled hard on the man's hair, a crack resonating from the man's back that made the boy laugh out loud. "Hah! Look at that!" He said between the bouts of the man's screaming. "I bet you'll be a whole finger taller after this!" He exclaimed as he pulled harder, the man's hands wildly reaching up to stop Everan, but he could not move one arm, and the other was having a hard time making the reach.

"Go on knife-ear! Stop me- use that sword at your belt and cut your hair off- or my hands, whatever befits you the most!"

The man did as Everan said and reached with his good hand for the sword at his belt. As soon as he had it drawn up, without being able to see he awkwardly shoved it in between the bars. Everan used one of his hands to smash it down on the man's hand at that moment, having easily stepped aside for the blade to pass him with considerable space between. The blade clattered to the floor and at that moment, Everan let go of the man who stumbled backwards, the doors down the hallway slamming open.

Everan picked up the sword and tossed it around his hands, getting a feel for it. "More of a dagger man myself, but this is a nice sword- I'll work well with it." He decided aloud. 

Footsteps could be heard marching down the hallway and Everan looked up at the figures who had walked in to investigate the noise. Wide eyes looked to the guard cradling his shoulder on the ground and then to the prisoner who held his sword behind bars.

"Nice of you to join the party, boys," He said with a wicked grin. 

_____

Stealing a sword seemed to be a bit redundant in the end. There had not been much a single man with a pointy steel stick could do from a prison cell against a multitude of other guards. In the end he had lost his prize just as easily as he had acquired it. It was quite disappointing, really.

Everan was a boy of merely eighteen seasons, but a boy his age should of known better than to mess around as he had done- only, he did know better. He knew what it was he was doing, and vaguely knew the outcome's of these things however, if he did no it was that he either payed them no mind or he simply did not care. Whatever the case, it was clear that the war seasoned boy did not fear the ugly face of death.

The yellow honey eyed boy was something of an enigma to many who looked upon him. It was hard to understand the inner workings of such a ghastly figure. It could have easily all been pinned on his wild upbringing- as it most often was. But there was something more to him, not that he knew, not that anyone knew. Simply put, he was not a man who could be easily understood. 

The guards had wanted to take his life then and there when they found him. And they might have if not for a commanding guard's intervention. Not without their own losses, of course. Everan had been swiftly dealt with, with the utmost care- of course it was not easy to get the wild boy to let go of his prize but luckily no one was injured in the end.

He had been cuffed then, and ushered out of the room. This part was surprisingly easier for the men, as he had willingly obliged. It seemed, the wild boy knew when to pick his fights and when things were all for naught. The guards had led him outside, and down a path. He caught many eyes from knife-eared onlookers.

With his hair as it was, his own stubby normal ears showed just who he was- if his tanned skin and dark hair didn't already show it. He would growl at any guard who touched him, preferring to walk himself. At times, he would mutter profanities but the guards had learned not to pay him too much mind- mostly in fear of what had happened to the last man that got too close.

Finally the men reached a platform and they walked Everan up it. He was fully expecting to lose his life right then and there. He was already near the execution block, not ten feet away. He had assaulted a guard and caused quite the ruckus with having been stationed here for only a few hours. Not only that but he kept going on and on about how he was of no value. Everan had little thought about how this might affect his lifespan, but now as he stood there, he realized that he justified his immediate execution in more ways than one.

The boy did not want to die per say, though he really did not fear such a thing. 

A shorter fatter man waddled his way up the stand. He was just like the rest of the knife-ears here. Pale skin and blonde hair. As Everan glanced out at the growing crowd of knife-ears before him, he noticed that most were either blonde or white of hair- though a few had dirty blonde or a light brown to them. Poor souls. The knife-ears were very prideful in their fair appearances- it was why the nobility were made up of those who had a mostly white complexion. He could only wonder what they thought of him with his tan, sun beaten skin and his gnarly black and bloody red locks.

The fat man's long blonde hair was pulled up out of his face in a modest bun so that he could read the paper in front of him. He cleared his throat, the flabby skin on his jugular vibrating at the action. "Everan Faust," He called out his name to the crowd so that they knew who stood before them. "Has been declared a prisoner of war! A war his father had started. By the crown's decree, he is not found guilty of murdering the soldiers of the fae. He is guilty however, of brutally assaulting a fae guard. By his grace's orders, he has been graciously pardoned of his actions- on the account that he bend the knee, or face execution." The man said as he turned to face Everan for his answer. 

 Everan blinked, then slowly, laughter started to bubble up in his throat. "Your king is weak! Forgive me?" He stopped talking to allow himself more laughter. "I would so easily be tortured to death by by own father if things were reversed and i was his war prisoner,"

"I repeat myself now, Everan Faust. Bend the knee, or face execution."

"If I live, I am as good as dead in my father's eyes- he will find a way to kill me himself if he has to! Why should I bend the knee to your weak knife-eared king that cannot fight his own battles?"

"You would serve his grace, of course."

"I am not nearly as important as he thinks. Halcon Faust may only have one son, but he will easily make more. I am entirely disposable." Everan spat, his laughter going away. It seemed this topic was an upsetting one.

The fat man looked to the guards next to him and nodded. They came to him and took him by the shoulders, forcing him to his knees. He was breathing heavily, his heart picking up. He was not scared to die. His heart was merely betraying him in this moment.

"I say this once more, and not another time. Bend the knee to the rightful fae king, and you shall be spared."

Everan growled, thrashing in the vice grips of his captors. "Go ahead, kill me! You win nothing in it- gain nothing. I am nothing if not in my father's hands. In fact, in killing me you gain yourself a couple more years. Hah! Look at that, my greatest value is death- why would you ever think to spare me? Knife-ears really must be stupid," He growled out as a third man approached him with a large war axe. 

The man with the aze raised it high in the air, and Everan looked down at the wood under himself. He waited for the blow and it seemed as if it would never come. In fact, it didn't.

"Wait!" A high pitched voice cried out. Everan looked up, his eyes searching for the voice that had called out. They landed on a small girl who was rushing to the steps of the platform- only her path was blocked by another one of those heavily armored guards.

"Wait, wait! You can't kill him!" The girl cried out to the fat man, who looked upon her with an incredulous look.

"Your highness you should not be out here unsupervised," The man warned her.

Everan took this chance to look her over now. A noble? His eyes scanned her, going over her heavily beaded and braided white hair- but what was surprising about her was that her snow white hair was not white at the ends. Instead, the long hair that reached her bum was black as night and took up a quarter of the length. He did not know what the fae who liked all things fair and pale would think of something like that- but she was definitely eye catching.

Her elaborate dress was white, off-white floral embroidered into the skirt and the hems lined with delicate lace. The collar, end of the sleeves and bottom of the skirt were lined with a gold silk that brought everything together. She looked like an angel, standing there with pale blue eyes widened in fear. Fear of what, he wondered.

"You can't kill him!" She repeated to the fat man.

"My lady! My lady!" An older woman called after her- likely a nanny or something of the sort. He wrinkled his nose. The girl was a child sure, but children her age did not need servants that followed her around. Could she not take care of herself?

"He had not bent the knee, he is to die by order of your father," The fat man explained. 

This made Everan's brows raise now, as he took in the sight of her all over again. She was a princess then? Why did she care about someone like him?

"I will not let you!" She yelled at him, pushing past the guard at the base of the stairs and holding her dress up as she clamored to the top of the platform. Now was the time that his eyes met hers, and he noticed that the pupils of her eyes were not black, but rather white. She was a strange sight indeed.

"You do not have the same authority as your father does- we must follow his orders." The fat man said wearily.

She glared at him now, her soft features did not seem fit for such an expression. "I vouch for him. He is under my jurisdiction now."

"You cannot do that-"

"I just did! Take it up with father!"

"You will be responsible for his actions my lady, he has already seriously injured a guard within the hour," He warned her.

"I will have him behave," She promised.

"I am no dog," Everan spoke up. "Princess," he spat out the last bit.

"I do not think he wishes to behave," The fat man said a bit nervously.

The girl did not seem phased by this at all. "I will make him, then." She said with confidence that had Everan laughing once more. Her pretty pale cheeks took on a pink hue, and she turned to face him with a glare.

"Listen to the fat man," Everan told her. "I am better off dead than a dog sitting at your feet on command."

"Perhaps I'll teach you how to heel," She taunted right back before turning on her heels and walking down the platform. "Have him bathed and give him a room next to mine. One that locks." She commanded the guards.

"I will have to speak to your father about this," The fat man nervously warned.

She waved him off. "So be it,"