Seven Souls |Updates Fridays|

20 Faust

_Faust_

    Sharp changes pierced the air- shouts of curses and prayers littered the area as men fought and died. The summer rains were making the land slick, and hard to hold your ground on. One slip and you were a dead man. One miscalculation or drop of rain in your eye and you were a dead man. The red and black haired boy did not intend to die here.

    He screamed fiercely, the sound echoing around the forested valley along with the others- but his was distinctly louder than the rest, and rallied his men into their own overwhelmingly loud cries. He swung one of two daggers at the heavily armored men in front of him, his own armor being less metal and more leather- not nearly as effective.

    Perhaps if these knife eared weaklings weren't in their way, his people would have more access to better things like metal armor. The thought drove him to attack harder, his movements quickening as he dodged swing after swing of the man's large sword. He had to be careful about this- his own daggers weren't strong enough to pierce metal armor, he had to wedge it somewhere weak, but those spots were small and hard to catch in the midst of battle.

    Luckily, the boy was nearing nineteen seasons, and he had been training for well over a decade. He was a seasoned fighter too- well respected in the eyes of his people. No one questioned his authority.  Of course, at a time like this when one misstep meant imminent death, that didn't matter.

The man brought a heavy swing down next to the boy, but he managed to barely miss, the swish and flow of air next to the boy's head did not phase him. He made a quick move to shove his daggers through the eye socket of the helmet, the man barely managed a short scream before  his body dropped.

    He had barely heard the next person running at him before he ducked under the swing, popping back up to shove his blade under the mand helm and into his neck quite efficiently. He was wasting time skimming off the common rabble of the field. He needed to find the commanders and take care of them himself. He started off through the field quickly, maneuvering through fighting bodies and trees quickly. He assumed they were on the other side, safe up on their horses. Because that was how the knife ears fought. Like cowards.

    The boy cut down a few attackers as he continued on, not bothering to go out of his way to attack any of them and letting his men take care of it. They were almost as skilled as he was- his people were fierce and strong. They stood surprisingly well against the armored enemy- imagine what they could do with that armor on their backs. They would be unstoppable. His father would be proud.

The closer he got to the other side, the thicker the enemy men became and he had to be wise not to get caught around too many of them. He could only be so quick with so many people surrounding him. At one point a man was only a man and nothing more. A good blow and he was down for the count. The thought brought a dark smile to his face.

    If only he was an ordinary man.

    The boy moved along the field, making his way slightly to the left where there were less of the enemy. Most of the battle was caught in the middle. However, he froze, hearing a loud noise from the right. He turned to see dogs, littering the field. They had brought hounds into this? The boy had not been warned about war dogs. He found himself growling at the sight. A dog came for him now, running swiftly like the wind.

    It was only a matter of seconds before the dog was lunging, baring its teeth at him. But the boy was ready, and caught the beast on his daggers. The god whined and he threw it to the side, glaring at it with smoldering honey yellow eyes. He wrinkled his nose in annoyance, looking back into the mass of fighting men and dogs. It could be minutes or hours until everything came to an end. Only time would tell.