32 Everan Faust

_Everan Faust_

The white walls were drab and bare, the gold trim that lined them an irritation to the eye. White silk curtains did a terrible job of keeping the sun from lighting up the room. Had it always been so agonizingly bright outside? Everan had been in this room for a week now, and if he saw any more white, silver, or gold, he was going to lose his mind.

Everan was pacing the room by now, biting his nails at his confinement. This room was far bigger than any he normally stayed in, but the lack of moving around, the lack of freedom and the outdoors- it was really getting to him. The spacious room hadn't seemed so spacious these last couple of days and he felt the walls closing in on him. He couldn't even look at himself- the white clothes he wore only proved to irritate him even more.

Looking around the room, he saw the mess he had created. Maids were not allowed in here, so none of it had been picked up. When Everan got especially angry, especially cooped up like this, he tended to get violent. And when there was no one near to attack, he took it out on his surroundings. He kicked away the empty goblet on the floor, glaring down at its shiny silver plated color. He caught a glimpse of his reflection and scowled.

He came to stand next to the window, shoving the silk curtains from his view. When they swayed and came back to brush against him, he ripped them from their place on the wall and threw them to the floor, letting out a huff of frustration as the metal bar holding them up, fell to the floor with a clang. Yellow honey eyes came to glare out the window, several stories down at the courtyards below him, and the city that laid beyond. A city soon to be conquered.

 It was only a matter of time before his father came with all his men, and attacked here. They had far more men than these fools realized. And it was this realization that had Everan growling. His army could have been bigger. His army could have been able to beat these knife-eared freaks if he had had even a thousand more men at his back. An easy thousand to spare.

His father had given him a hard battle. But why? To test him and see if he was a great war lord? He scoffed at the idea. Why the two had never been particularly close, he had never thought his father wanted him dead. Never thought that the man disliked his own son enough to send him into a losing battle on purpose. Everan slammed his hand into the window with a frustrated yell, breaking the glass and cutting himself in the process. He didn't even wince at the white hot pain stabbed his senses. But he did cringe as he brought his hand back and the glass protruding from his skin caught on the metal bars. 

 It was only a matter of time before his father came with all his men, and attacked here. They had far more men than these fools realized. And it was this realization that had Everan growling. His army could have been bigger. His army could have been able to beat these knife-eared freaks if he had had even a thousand more men at his back. An easy thousand to spare.

His father had given him a hard battle. But why? To test him and see if he was a great war lord? He scoffed at the idea. Why the two had never been particularly close, he had never thought his father wanted him dead. Never thought that the man disliked his own son enough to send him into a losing battle on purpose. Everan slammed his hand into the window with a frustrated yell, breaking the glass and cutting himself in the process. He didn't even wince at the white hot pain stabbed his senses. But he did cringe as he brought his hand back and the glass protruding from his skin caught on the metal bars. 

His back fell against the wall now, and she slowly slid to his feet. He glared at his hand, picking the glass out of it with wince after wince, and tossing it to the side. When he was done picking all the pieces he could manage with just his fingers, he looked at the bloodied mess before him. The blood had ran from his hand, down his arm and dripped onto the floor, pooling in front of him.

The longer Everan looked at the red liquid in front of him, the more he felt his world spin a little, his head becoming light, but he had experienced blood loss before. This kind of loss did not induce lightheadedness. His anger spiked up at the thought that they might have spiked his food with a drug of some sort, but that thought was lost as he watched steam rise from his hand, no, his blood specifically. Even the cold pool on the floor was bubbling and steaming, heat coming from it.

Everan narrowed his eyes at the sight, unsure what was going on. A ringing sound started up in his ears, loud and shrill as he stared hard at the blood before him. His yellow honey eyes twinkled unbeknownst to him as he tried to process this. Slowly, he creeped his good hand forward, and touched the puddle that was only steadily growing bigger as his other hand continued to bleed. It was indeed hot, but it did not burn.

He heard a low rumbling sound, like that of a monster, in the back of his mind. Looking around proved to him that this was indeed in his head. Surely he was either drugged or the beast gods were sending a sign. At this point, the latter did not seem so true. If the beast gods were to have any part in this, they would have done something by now. 

He swiped away the blood, making a mess of it on the polished marble tiled floor. At least something was finally not white, silver, or gold.

The door in the front of the room slammed open and the princess stormed in with a smile on her face that soon faded when she saw what was in front of her. "What happened?" She said with a gasp as she ran to his side and landed on her knees, taking his bloodied hand into hers.

Everan growled at her and ripped his hand back, taking this chance to stand up, Valadae following his movement. "I punched your window." he told her simply.

"Why would you do that? You could not possibly get out through the bars."

"I am not dumb enough to attempt escape like that," He growled at her, rolling his eyes and stepping away from her. "I was angry."

"You were angry... so you punched a window?" The princess asked him.

He scowled at her. "Aye,"

"Why would you do that?"

"Are you dumb?" He asked her, stepping close to her. "Is that a question you really have to ask?"

She looked up at him, staring him in the eyes with her ghostly ones. Blue eyes sparkled, why white pupils took everything in. She looked like an angel as usual, Everan thought. "I am merely concerned for you." She told him sternly.

"You are not my mother," He said with clenched teeth.

"Aye, I am not. Did your mother give up on you the moment you lost as your father did? Because I sure didn't." She told him now, clenching her own teeth.

"You sure want to be-" He was interrupted before any vulgarities could spill from his mouth.

"I would hold that tongue of yours, I have done you the courtesy of leaving the guards outside this door but I will call for them if need be." Valadae threatened and he stepped away from her, scowl back on his face.

"Where I am from, you don't have to call mesley guards to protect you unless you are outnumbered." He said venomously.

"I suppose you allow petite girls to fend for themselves?" She asked with the innocent mocking tilt of her head. He merely rolled his eyes and she sighed, looking at the blood that was smeared on the floor, and then to his hand that continued to bleed. "You need help with that right away before it gets corrupted," She decided and went to the door to tell the guards.

Everan watched her, not at all concerned with his throbbing hand. She moved smoothly, gracefully even. Her Hair and dress swayed as she walked- perhaps the beauty of it stuck out to him from being stuck here with nothing to do for so long. She had left him books in both his mother language and hers- but what she didn't know was that Everan couldn't read. His people didn't value books or the written language. It could be found by someone else. Sure it was silent- but it was a danger. They took up silent hand signals- unique to family and your job or organization. Those were harder to intercept in a tight knit community. 

He was aware however that the written language could carry across a distance- which hand signals could not. Still, his people kept to it. And they kept to it strictly. Between in family, the army he once led, and the council he was on and a few friends he had, he knew over five different codes of hand languages. More than most of his people- that with knowing three different tongues left him quite educated in the art of communication.

Yet here in the knife-ear capital, only one of those mattered. The tongue everyone spoke in. One of his least favorite to converse in- the fae tongue. He would prefer to read and write than speak this deplorable language. However, then how would he harass these people? Very few of them spoke his own language- unfortunately.

When the princess came back over to him, she reached for his bloody hand again- presumably to inspect the gory mess but he pulled it away from her, unwanting of her touch. She only rolled her eyes and turned away from him, walking over to the table that lay on its side. She pulled it back to its feet, but not without some difficulty as the wood was dense and heavy. Next she picked up a single chair from across the room and brought it over to the table, taking a seat cooly- as if she did not mind the massive mess he had created.

"You've destroyed such a nice room," She said with a sigh.

"Then get out." He told her pointedly, keeping by the window and enjoying the slight breeze that blew in from the hole he had made.

She merely raised a brow, white pupils fixated on him nearly in a bored manner- but he knew better. This pesky girl was never bored around him- she was playing games. "Now why would I do that?" She asked him.

Everan growled and looked back out the window- unwilling to keep up anymore conversation with her, but she started up anyway. "You must be bored in here all day. I've noticed many animals get the same way you do when they have nothing to do. They destroy anything around themselves to keep busy," She mused. "Specifically the dogs down in the kennels. Poor things."

He snorted, keeping his eyes from her. "You sure like comparing me to dogs." he muttered.

She stifled a little laugh. "Aye, I do, don't I? I can't help it if that is what you act like,"

"It is rude. If you want me to bend the knee then surely you would treat me as an equal,"

She tilted her head back and forth as if thinking about it. Soon she came to a conclusion. "We could never be equal, you and I. Here I will always be above you, and out there in the wild you would always be above me. There is no equilibrium for you and I, unfortunately. Even if you were to bend the knee right now- that would be your submission."

This time it was his turn to raise a brow. "Are you implying that I am higher than you at the moment?"

She set delicate, pale fingers over her lips and stifled another laugh. "Of course not. Not here in the capital."

"Outside of it?"

"Outside of Fae territory perhaps, yes." She answered.

"You are the heir here, right? Your weak father was unable to cultivate a male heir?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Yes, that's right."

"You did not bring your guards this time," he pointed out. "I could kill you easily, leaving this place without an heir." He hissed. "Your father's brother is a knight, he can no longer become king according to your people's silly rules."

She gave him a blank look, fear not present anywhere on her face or in her body language. "Lets say you did kill me." She piped up. "Lets say you broke my neck right this moment. You would be killed of course, but you already knew that. What you didn't know is that I have a younger sister, so the burden falls on her instead. And you would not be able to get to her in time- so you would fail in ruining this kingdom. What a silly thought." She said with a growing smile that mocked him blatantly.

"So I bend the knee, gain your trust, find the sister and take her out. I do it in secret and find you and end you. I am quick, and I have quite the stealth. It would not take me long." 

"And why would you do that?" She asked him with the tilt of her head.

He paused, turning to look at her. "What do you mean?"

"What is your motive?"

"My motive?" He repeated.

"Your father does not want you anymore- you are dead to him, or something like that. Whatever it was you said. You are hardly even a Faust anymore, so why would you take out Emshire?" She asked him now. Emshire was the kingdom they were in- the disgusting Kife-ear relm that was festering on this continent- trying its hardest to become the former empire that it once had been a thousand years ago. But a thousand years was a long time. Things had changed. The fausts ruled half of the wilds now- and it was the Fausts that were the biggest enemy of the Wyldes- the family in charge of Emshire.

Everan faltered at her words. What motive did he have to take out this place if his own home no longer wanted him. The answer was- he didnt. The princes even saved him from execution- there was more reason for him to serve here than there was at home. He growled now, anger bubbling up inside of him- pressing against his chest like heavy stones. "What does it matter to you? Perhaps I am on a suicide mission."

"I do not believe that." She said now, crossing her arms.

"I do not care for what you say you believe and what you do not," he huffed out now.

"Why not? I care for what you do," She offered. "What of your beast gods? I hear every child is born under one of the beasts. What is yours?" 

"Why do you care of something like that?" he asked her now, growing hostile. He wanted to punch the window again.

"Because I am curious, and I hold a fascination for the beliefs of others- an appreciation if you will."

"I'm sure." He said with the roll of his eyes.

"So? What were you born under?" She asked with a smile.

He gave her a blank look. "It does not matter."

"Oh? Is it a personal thing?" She asked him now, growing more intrigued.

"No,"

She frowned. "Then why is it that you will not tell me?"

He sighed and glared at her. "The dragon." He said simply.

A smile broke out across her face. "The dragon?" She repeated.

"Yes."

"What are the others?"

"There are many others. Far too many to remember," He told her now, not wanting to tell her any more of this. None of it mattered to him anymore.

"What are the most common ones? The rare ones? Please? Everyone is the same here," She complained.

He raised a brow. "No you are not. You are born under May are you not?" He asked her now.

She snorted, letting out a short laugh. "That is not special. Lots of people are born in may. Are lots of people born under the dragon?" She asked him.

He gave her a long look before turning his eyes back out the window. The view was growing quite boring. "No." he answered.

"How many then? How do you know?" 

"The shamen knows. Not many are- I do not know another."

"The shamen?" She repeated.

"You would not know it."

"I would like to," She answered him, but he only waved her off.

"It does not matter."

"It does to me," She tried.

He narrowed his eyes, irritation eating at him- hot on the back of his neck. "Why is it you like to bother me? I might just kill you anyway so that you are no longer a gnat buzzing in my ear." he growled.

She let out a sigh and went to answer but there was a knock at the door that interrupted. She gave him a look he couldn't read before she walked over to talk to whoever it was that had Knocked.

Everan did not like to talk about himself. He especially did not like to talk about his culture with outsiders. He wished to go back home now, to see the open sky and forest and the people he loved. The girl he was to wed... His people wed more than one woman but generally they were all killed off after some time, leaving the strongest wife. He knew the tradition was a strange one- but he did not question it. Though he had only been interested in one girl to take as his. He did not quite want to take others just to dispose of them. He was sure that one would be his favorite anyway.

None of it would ever happen now, he realized. And the girl he fancied was long lost to him as was everyone else he had ever known. All of his life was gone and reduced to this. A prisoner. Bending his knee would only make him a willing prisoner. A weak one. The thought made his blood boil.

When Valadae returned she was holding bandages and what looked to be foreign medicine. He narrowed his eyes as she drew near to him. "You are not bandaging me, I can do it myself." he told her sternly.

"You have to wrap it tight," She said, gesturing to his injured hand. "It will take two hands to do that." She said confidently.

"I do not care. Let it be loose if that is the case."

"Then what point are the bandages? An accessory? Just let me help you,"

He narrowed his eyes at her, glaring daggers with the hot yellow honey color. "Help?" he growled at her. "I don't want help. I want you out of here. Just execute me already! Or let me go for assassins to find me!"

"Why would I do that? Why wont you let me help you? Why don't you bend the knee? Nothing bad has to happen if you-"

"If you mention bending the knee one more time, I swear to your false god and my true ones-"

"Please! Forget the knee, just let me bandage your hand. I am sure you have bled long enough," She nearly begged him.

"No," He growled out.

She stepped closer to him in attempts to convince him but Everan only reacted, instincts kicking in. he brought up his left hand, the unscathed dominant hand, to grip her by the neck and swing her to the cold stone wall next to the window. He gripped her hard, likely to leave bruises.

His eyes burned like molten fire as he kept his hot gaze boring into her with an avid harshness one could not expect a man so young to have. He leaned in to her ear, whispering profanities to her, threatening her with promises of deflowering and unpurifying her. Everan could feel her heart beat erratically through her neck. She was terrified- scared quite a bit but the oddest part about it was that her face held the same serious expression before- betraying the signs her vitals were giving off.

"Are you scared?" He asked her, growling.

Blue eyes searched his face, not giving off any hints of the fear she was so obviously feeling. "No," She hissed at him.

He tightened his grip on her neck and she sputtered and choked, her hands coming up to claw at his. Her face contorted, eyes widening as she struggled to breath. The doors to the room slammed open then and it felt like slow motion that guards came closer.

Everan's face was inches from hers- so close but so far. His eyes were on her pink lips. He didn't know when it was that his hands had lessened their grip, but it felt as though time had froze when their eyes met for a split second.

In the next second he was being ripped from her by armored guards, and he let them, a grin coming to his face. He laughed now, and shoved the guards away from himself once he figured they were far enough. "Learn anything today, princess?" He said mockingly, well aware she liked to make a game of figuring him out. 

"Quite a bit actually," She said through ragged breaths, touching her bruising throat with delicate hands. Everan only scoffed. Once she was able to calm herself she took a trial breath before fixing him with a dead stare. "You will be mindful of who it is you lay your hands on. This is your only warning."

He raised his brows, still mocking her. "Oh my, I do apologize, sometimes I forget I stand in the presence of the future knife-ear queen,"

She walked up to him, smacking away a warning guard's hand. She made sure to stand toe to toe with EVeran, looking straight up into his eyes, though it was difficult with the major height difference. "I was considering letting you leave this room and allow you some fresh air, but it does not seem as though you deserve it."

"Allow me?" He repeated. "I am not some dog to walk on a leash. I am what it is you knife-ears think I am. A feral beast- untamable," He growled at her. "You should know who it is you, talk to, girl." He warned her in a dark tone. His hand came up under her chin and craned her head up even more. "I will kill you if you irritate me enough, and I will not fear the consequences."

Valadae swallowed and pushed his hand away from her chin. She then brushed past him to leave the room, her two guard's flanking her on her way out. Everan glowered as she left, a dark look still on his face. 

The door slammed and everything became quiet- except for the singing of the wind coming in through the hole in the window. He sucked in his lips in order to calm himself but the rage was still there. He turned to the table and flipped it, throwing it against the wall with an angry shout. He picked the chair up next to where the table had been and threw that too, watching the wood splinter and shatter upon impact with the table and the wall.

His breathing was ragged and uneven, shoulders rising and falling like those of a great beast. He was fuming with rage, growling low in his throat, lower and lower. No normal man should have been able to make such a noise but perhaps he had extensive practice... He felt hot all over, as if he was going to melt. He brought a ragged hand to his face, running it down aggressively in attempts to calm himself.

Everan winced when he felt a sting on his cheek. Confused, he touched that same spot, and then looked at his fingers. The blood wasn't what caught his attention. His hands were rough and greying, but what particularly stood out was the sharp nails that had not been so thick and dark before. He blinked a couple of times, watching as his hands went back to normal- save for his glass cut bloody right hand.

He was truly going crazy in this room.