Envarda

Far off in the mountains lies a small village. People who've cut themselves off from all civilization through means of barrier magic. Unless you were born there, or told of this village, you don't even know it exists. And the elders would like to keep it that way, keep their lifestyle 'pure', their race 'distinguished'. There would be no 'mud in their veins'. This was the code this race lived by. They were above all, no need to even speak to those of the heretic race who lived so far below them in cities made of gas and steel. These people were happy, you could say, living with virtually no weapons beside the occasional blunted iron axe, lifespans of only about fifty years, no technology to aide their lives. As long as they had their simple lives of wood and crude metals, they could survive like those of feudal times. The powerful magic kept invaders out, and they had never once even imagined that someone could break through.

Of course, things always go exactly the way people don't think they will, although they didn't know when someone had broken through their infallible defenses. Just a fox demon, one simple man who wasn't searching to harm, just passing through and the barrier had gotten in his way. But, as things go, he fell in love with one of the young maidens of the village, and soon their trysts were almost nightly. Living on the edge of the town, even the elders didn't know of the existence of this fox demon. But, once the maiden got pregnant, things went downhill quite quickly. At first she was shunned as a whore, but when symptoms that were not normal for a pregnancy appeared, the wise woman of the town became suspicious. After a thorough examination of the pregnant woman, the wise woman decided that it was a demon's infestation, and that there must be a demon feeding off of her somewhere. The villagers soon found the generally peaceful demon, and sent him off just as quickly as they'd found him. However, it was too late to get rid of the 'infestation', the woman went into labor.

In such a society of fundamentalist thinkers, Envarda was born a monster- neither human nor fox, he was outcast from the village, thrown into the forest to survive on his own- not even two days old. His mother, her fate was worse. For mating with a demon, Envarda's mother was burned at the stake as a heretic. The whereabouts of Envarda's father are not known to this day, and it's highly doubtful that they ever will be. Not that Envarda knows of this, as far as he's concerned, he's the product of a prostitute and a demon, never being told otherwise and never caring enough to ask. You may ask how a two-day-old survived in a forest on his own, but as these stories go, he almost didn't. Not that he was found by some dangerous animal that was about to eat him- no. No one, not even a bird, came anywhere near the wailing infant for nearly twenty-four hours. It was pure luck that the prostitute's 'john' of the day had a fetish for doing it in forests, and the prostitute had heard the baby crying softly as she headed back to her home. She'd always had a soft spot for children, especially after her miscarriage. Despite his ears and multiple tails, the woman brought Envarda back to her brothel.

There she named him "Envarda Restintana", which in her native tongue meant "He who will be loved".

The baby soon grew into a young boy, who would always be found running around the old-fashioned brothel, helping sick prostitutes, doing odd jobs, anything he was asked to do. He was quite intelligent for his age, maybe not in math and science, but in the ways of life. He knew that what went on in that brothel wasn't something that was usually socially acceptable, he knew that his 'mothers' were considered to be the lowest of the low- he didn't care. He loved- loves them all with all of his heart. Even to this day he'll do anything for them. In a way, they are really the only people Envarda truly cares about. Things went a different way when Envarda turned thirteen, clients began to look at him differently until one of them pointed to him and asked, "How much?" At first their was no answer, until one of the women glanced at him, and when Envarda responded with a determined nod- he'd be helping his 'mothers' after all, they'd agreed one a price and Envarda's life as a prostitute began.

Soon he was quite good at it, he knew how to play to his advantages, knew how to use humans in a manner to get more money. More than anything, this boy was a quick learner and extremely intelligent. To this day, Envarda is smart, sneaky and undeniably provocative. He'll flirt with anyone and anything, but then demand a price the second whoever it is is caught in his 'claws'. He's not easily taken advantage of, he knows how to use his words wisely and to convince anyone to do anything he pleases really. It's almost as if he's using magic, when the young kitsune doesn't even know even the simplest spells. Of course, there are two sides to every coin. The side that normal people see, the side that leads them to the path of no return with sweet-nothings and simple bumps of the hips, and then the side that's so simply eager to please. The side that wants nothing more than to make those he cares about happy. He grew up much faster than he needed to, but Envarda is in no way selfish. Everything he does, he does for his 'mothers', even though he's approaching the age at which he's older than most of the prostitutes in the brothel.

Envarda is normally seen in a yukata, as he feels so much more comfortable in this type of clothing than the clothing of today- jeans and a t-shirt? Only if he's desperate. Other than those moments, Envarda will comfortably be sporting a modest yukata, normally red or blue to contrast with his pale skin. The marks on his face are natural, probably vestiges of the magic of his species that runs through his veins that's yet to be released, if it ever will be. Envarda does often visit the parks and towns nearby, sometimes to get away, other times to find clients that won't come to him out of humiliation- an emotion Envarda nearly completely lacks.