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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.