There are so many different versions of Felix's background story, and I wish I would have found them all to include all the links here. (If you do find one or write one yourself, dm me!) 
Felix is such a remarkable character, with such little background. I have always thought that he deserved so much more, and wondered what his past might have looked like. No that I have read a few theories about his past now- each of them has been great, creative, and was different to the othe-, they all inspired me to put a mix of my interpretation down to paper, creating a new, unique version, one that might thrill you with new ideas to do the same.

I hope you enjoy my idea. 
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"What are you?" A deep growl, coming from the broad man, echoing through the small room. The bottle on the wooden table was thrown off in one go, shattering onto the wooden ground into a thousand little pieces. It's noise was enough to cause Felix to flinch, and it was an astonishing act of self control for his father, to leave one of the big pieces onto the ground, and not to slip his son's throat right there. He had drunk a lot more than the other days, but in the end it was the anger issues that won, not the alcohol.

"Who are you?" He yelled disbelieving with a deep vibrano in his chest, swaying around to keep his balance. There was a vein popping on that porcelain skin, and just like his son, the old man owned the palest pair of blue eyes, piercing their way through the young boy's soul in order to judge him. 

"You play this repulsive instrument and chase after girls all day! What are you doing with your life?" Felix stayed silent when the heavy mass of a man stepped closer and built himself up in front of him, landing a heavy strike in his face.

"Worthless piece of shit!" He spat it out like poison. Felix shrinked again, and for a second he felt the urge to cry, yet one single drop could mean another beating of his life. Man up, he would say. Do not ever cry in front of me, he would say, before he walked off to get his belt. The words to defend himself were stuck in his throat, but even if he were able to speak his thoughts out loud, it was worth nothing to the boy's father, just like the rest of him. 

"I carried a musket for the king and so will you!" He suddenly spoke in a warning tone.

"Dad, I am-"

"Eighteen is old enough to be drafted in, and you will never be a good blacksmith! Not with that attitude!" Felix's father barked, swinging his arm into his son's direction. For a second, the boy feared that he would get beaten up again. Instead, his father grabbed the violin from his hands to furiously smash it onto the ground, leaving it impossible to repair. Felix watched agonized. "That shall teach you a lesson, son!"

Felix looked in horror at the broken instrument, unbelieving that his old man would ever dare to touch one of his own childhood relics. It had been a gift from his father, from times when he was young and had to entertain himself, while the old drunk sat in the pub all day. There never had been a special bond between these two, not close to family, far from any love. As long as he had the violin, Felix could bear any beatings.

"This makes you weak, my son." The old man brought Felix back to reality. He lifted his head, but could not move from his frozen, cowed position near the wall. Nothing would prove his father that he was worthy to his son, no matter how hard he tried to follow his every command, no matter how many different chores he mastered. 

"I don't want to go to the army, dad." Felix winced, and when he did, it felt like time stood still. The pale face of his father turned red in anger, and his eyes darkened within a glimpse. 

"You-" He muttered threateningly as he closed the short gap between those two, bringing his face down to his son's. "dare it?" 

Felix felt shivers down his spine and goosebumps spreading all over his body. His breath hitched, with eyes widened, he then watched powerless how the old man unbuckled his belt, pulled it out of the rim and folded it in half.

With every force that the drunken man still contained, he aimed to hit the boy at a random place he felt like beating.

"YOU!"

Whip.

"DO!"

Whip.

"AS!"

Whip.

"I!"

Whip.

"Say!" 

Whip. Whip. Whip. The sound of each hit was as painful in Felix's ears, like the whip against his limbs itself. In the end, he was just grateful that his head was not the target. 

"Stop chasing girls around!" His Father growled, and aimed for his last hit. Felix had crouched himself into a protective ball by now, not daring to move a single, trembling limp. He gritted his teeth, and flared his nostrils, and with heavy breaths, he tried to suppress his tears from flowing. 

"You're pathetic. I will consider my decision about the army one last time." Without taking another glance at the beaten up son, the old man strutted through the broken wood, mixed with shattered glass, slamming the door shut when he left the house, to calm his nerves. Felix stayed in his position for a while until it was safe enough for him to move. The pain was too much, causing the boy almost to break down by the weight of his own, aching body. The boy decided it was best to stay where he was, until he got his strength to rise again. But not for too long. Felix's father probably went to the pub, where he would blow out the rest of his steam, but the boy knew he had to tidy everything up until he had returned. He felt helpless, and without any purpose. Was there nothing more than getting beaten up or yelled at? The sound of his cracking bones when he lifted himself was a reason to worry. On the other hand, it was not the first time Felix went through with this. He would lay in his bed, cry until he calmed down and gathered all his strength to get up once more. Routine. When he broomed the shards away, Felix laid eyes on the broken pieces of his violin one last time. His father was wrong. The music was nothing to distract Felix, but rather bring joy to the other people during those dark times. There was no single day the tall boy would not play and enjoy its lovely tunes, and there was only one girl he was interested in, not plenty. 

The passion towards the violin had driven Felix into neglecting his chores. Some of them were a pain in the ass, but the most crucial part was to help his father by tidying up the house, cooking and cleaning. He also was tasked with chopping wood to storage it in a dry place- something he had fucked up. The boy had been surprised by a storm, and before he could react, all the wood was soaked up with water. Where in the hell did he leave the tarpaulin? Felix did not deserve the belt for this, nor the constant criticism from his father about how useless he was. He had never been proud of him, only disappointed and ashamed. If he loved his son, the old blacksmith never showed it. Destroying the only thing Felix brought joy was only another way to show his cold hearted cruelty. There was one Person though, that did not seem to be bothered with Felix's reputation or passion towards the music. Instead, this girl was thrilled about learning to know the blacksmith's son. Felix had seen her every day since he was young, and she would often wear a white dress. Something about the witness of that dress seemed to make her skin appear even more pale. She had these big blue eyes, hiding under those fiery clouds of hair, always seeming to pierce one in a curious matter. It was as if she constantly tried to guess what one thought. 

Jeanne.

Sometimes Felix would see her selling flowers on the market place, the other day she was braiding the little girl's braids. Her burning flames of hair swung openly in the summer breeze, thousands of freckles covered her body as if she got kissed by the sun herself. The girl was the most beautiful being Felix eyes had ever witnessed, and those strong emotions towards her almost caused his heart to burst out of his chest, anytime she would smile at his lovely tunes of music. The boy was desperately in love with her. He had a painful craving that only intensed into a burning desire with the knowledge that her fiance was an asshole, and how much she hated him. His name, Felix, stood for luck and happiness, yet the boy seemed neither to call his own. An already engaged girl he had fallen for, as if he was not a disappointing son enough already. The boy could not help himself to escape into one of many daydreams including her, whenever he closed his eyes to rest. A beautiful alternative to compensate for his daily hell. Maybe he should join the army just like his father said, and work his way up to gain honor, but Felix had no experience in combat, nor could he shoot with a musket. Eventually he was just a coward. Besides the girl, the violin that Felix's father hated so much had been the only thing to cheer him up. Now that it was broken, he had nothing else to do on the market place than sit around, and watch all those different passing people.

Felix shook his head, and pushed that thought into the corner of his head. The only thing he needed to concentrate on were his tasks, or one day his father would not stop beating him, until there was nothing to beat anymore. Felix broomed the last pieces of glass into the pile of wood, then discarded the trash. Every movement was a painful stroke, radiating through his whole body, and when Felix finally tidied up the room, he slowly limped to his own one. He was terribly hungry, but all his strength was used up to reach the bed and cower underneath the thin blanket. The boy did not even close the window, causing the cold breeze to flood his room, so that he shivered until his muscles hurt. Felix closed his eyes, and focussed on dreaming about Jeanne. She was the center of his happiness, and for some reason she always had been quite interested in him. As young children going to church, Felix would always search with his eyes for her. She usually sat not far, wearing that simple white dress and a delicate cross necklace. One time, he had trouble finding her, and when he could not sit calm, Felix's father would hit him and grab his neck to prevent him from moving around.  He would tell him to shut it, and to say grace, but deep inside the boy could never truly be convinced of a god. Jeanne on the other hand was a true believer, a little pious, but a peaceful mind in nature. She was good-hearted and full of hope, adored nature with all its creatures, and loved dancing to  Felix's violin under the light of a million fireflies. Because of her, going to church was less of a torture. Whenever he was zooming out of one of the priest’s preaches, there was this girl to look at and make her laugh with goofy faces- something his father was never fond of, as well. Despite all the hittings, Felix stayed a rebellious, young brat, full of joy and energy to go through a day. The smile only faded with age, when the reputation of his birth was not just something to gossip anymore, but truly shutting him out of society, but never away from Jeanne. 

The next week, the boy hoped to see her again. Even with fresh wounds, Felix's father had given him chores, besides all his daily duties. Chopping wood, then carrying it to the cabin was draining enough energy already, but when he had to carry buckets of water from down the river, all the way to the wrought, Felix almost broke down. There was no time to make a mistake, so he took his father's words to heart and tried his best to get everything done as fast and efficiently as possible. Each day following the other seemed to get rougher, until the boy started to believe that the only escape was running away. But where would he even go? A few days later,and his fathers’s mood had calmed, Felix dared to leave the house again in his freetime. While walking through the village, he thought a lot about leaving again. His wounds had healed, but the memories stayed. Felix was a coward for not standing up to his father. The tall blacksmith was huge, almost like a giant. He could crush his son if he ever wanted to, something Felix feared more than anything. As he walked down the street, toward the marketplace, the boy mourned about his broken violin. Now he needed his music more than anything to cheer him up and clear his emotions, or to play for Jeanne. He saw her from afar, smiling at him as she twirled that ginger hair around her finger, not far from the path down to the river where they would usually meet.

"I really love your music." Jeanne said in such a beautiful tone, that Felix wanted to write a song about it. "Where is your violin?"

Felix sighed. "My dad broke it."

"Too bad. Now I don't have an excuse to lie about my meeting with you anymore." Her words cause some light inside Felix's heart to spark. "Your Dad is that old veteran, right? That crazy dude…"

The light in his heart died painfully in his chest when his father was mentioned, and Felix was openly ashamed of it. Everyone inside the village knew the shameful background of the old man, and how his decisions led to Felix's reputation. 

He was his  son's age, when the young Sèbastian Forgeron, a son of a great blacksmith, was promised to a beautiful young girl against his will. Pleading for his parent's mercy was not enough, so he decided to draft himself into the war. Little did he know, that the days would be less merciful than marriage, how little he earned, and that after a long time, he eventually craved the company of a good woman. This was when he met a whore named Odette: the most beautiful face, with a curvy body that carried thick, blonde braids on her slim shoulders. She would spend the cold nights with him, and later some of the days. Stèphane loved her dearly, but could only feel guilt towards the girl he left back home. One day, this was what made Odette return with a broken heart back to her village, leaving the young Stèphane lonely behind. With the vanished illusion of romance, and nothing to hold onto, the man got reckless until he lost one of his limbs through battle. The loss of the leg was nothing compared to the loss of Odette. Realizing that he had developed deeper emotions towards her than he would ever admit before, Stéphane made his way to her last known address she gave him. Odette, hopelessly frustrated in loneliness, failed attempting to kill the unborn child that she got from Stéphane. With him in her village now, she changed her mind, carrying out the baby. She gave him the name Felix: One lucky bastard. In the end it did not matter how much she loved Stéphane, Odette decided to leave him, and their child, not willing to be a mother.

"My father says he is the best blacksmith." The way Jeanne said this, made it sound rather like a question than a statement. She was not wrong, the old man was known for his good steel and the perfect eye for detail. Knights from different villages came to get their weapons. Felix's father always had a dry kind of hospitality. Every minute spent with a stranger was a minute too long, and it was always quick business: the order was placed, the work was carried out cleanly, then sold for an affordable price.

"You should go back to your fiance, before someone sees you with me in company." Felix changed the topic. He was not willing to get in trouble for being seen with the engaged girl. They used to meet a lot when younger, but now that the girl was engaged things changed. She should be aware of the risks, but she always ended up coming. Not even a rainy day would stop her, but this was what made the bastard so anxious. How far would she go, and did she even care of the ones that really ended up in trouble? There was no reason to think that, not after all those years being with each other in secret. Each of them has exposed their deepest secrets to each other, so it pained Felix to know that her lips would be unreachable forever.

"My fiance is an asshole and can die in the war. I would rather marry you."

Harsh words, but so honest, that it impressed the tall boy all over again. His heart made a leap, and he craved to touch her, and hold her, just to feel the warmth of her skin. He longed to place tender kisses down her neck and call her his. A dream that would stay a dream like all his life. 

"I am a bastard-"

"I don't care that you are a bastard, Felix." She interrupted him promptly, and cupped his flawless face with her hands,  rubbing her thumbs in, calm, soothing circles over his neat skin. "You are so much better than Albert."

"Don't say that." He gave back quite harshly and meant it, because he knew how easily she could break his heart with her words alone. Albert would marry the girl of his dreams and there was no way to ask Jeanne's parents for their daughter's hand. She was too pretty for a bastard, with a perfect reputation and a family name to be proud of. Their love would never be stronger than society's rules, and it pained Felix to even look into her big eyes as he dreamed of her to be his. Besides, that was nothing to be said easily. The people would look down on him, and so did his father. The boy was barely welcome anywhere, men would keep their daughters away, and he would be insulted by the members of the church he was forced to attend. Words were meaningless if he could not take action, and prove that he was better, but what options had the son of a blacksmith and a whore?

"I presume you have to stop me from talking then." 

Felix liked her. He liked her a lot. Jeanne had a sharp tongue, and no one could ever stop her from speaking her opinion. Many nights have passed in which he hoped to do more than just meet her in the night to play her songs and talk. He loved it how she laughed whenever he made a stupid joke, and she made him smile, too. The rage of his father would never get to Felix, not as long as he had Jeanne to dream about. He would do anything to call her his.

"I would do it with a kiss, but I know that you got promised to Albert." Felix gave back disappointed. "He would kill me." 

Jeanne gave him a smug grin, as if she told him that she wanted that kiss no matter how hard it was to get. The girl had failed so many desperate to steal one, but yet she was still with him. It was not as if he did not want to kiss her, nothing more than that he craved, but what was really stopping him had been driven by fear all along with overthinking what would happen next. Would a single kiss be enough? Or would they end up getting a taste, and might even crave for something more? There was no chance for them to be together, so that kiss would never be truly his anyways, and risking one was dangerous. Maybe he was just too good-hearted or innocent, but there was no reason to dare turning this little childhood affair into a romantic rivalry for a young lord. 

"I have an Idea." Jeanne spoke after a moment of silence. "But it may sound dumb." 

The boy gave Jeanne a weak smile and gave her a nod to continue with her idea."Why not run away?" 

What did she say? The boy did not believe what he heard, and without any intentions he immediately gave her a doubting look. There was no time to respond before Jeanne suddenly grabbed Felix's hands, looking up at him with an excited grin, and with big, sparkling eyes. "I want to live as far away as possible, in a place where no one can find us, and then we have a small farm and live together in secret!"

That sounded far better than getting beaten up to sleep by his father, when he got home drunk again to ventilate all his loss and anger on his son, but still like a stupid dream. Was she serious? Felix did not feel convinced at all, and if he were completely honest to her, then he would tell her how stupid she sounded. This had to be a joke, even though this thought had also occurred to him, one or two times. The boy would have agreed immediately, but his damn mind would not let himself question that idea all over again, until he almost went mad in the rushing wall of thoughts flooding his head, each of them more unreachable than the other.

"You know that we can't. How will we survive?" Felix asked.

"You will figure that out!"

Well, indeed he could, Felix thought lovesick and ready to jump onto the next opportunity. The boy knew these woods like nobody else, and after his father kicked him out several times, he also knew how to hunt and craft to make a week's survival. Not the biggest flex though.

"Where will we go and what do we do once we get there?" Felix was still not convinced.

"That's all up to you, at least we can be together!" 

Felix was too blinded by love to see her foolish childishness, an idea that would never be anything else than a nice thought, and if he would realize it, he was still not telling her in fear of upsetting the girl.

"When do you want to leave?" He asked and tried his best not to sound too doubting again.

"Let's do it tonight!" She called out excited. "I planned to run away for so long now." For how long? Felix was curious to know, but he was way too busy with trying to calm his racing heart. Hell, was he excited. Even if it felt like a cheap dream, Felix wanted to enjoy this moment. It was like a small victory, to win the heart of the girl he loved without wealth or reputation. He knew that she was the youngest of four sisters, and that her father had made a lot of money from trading, making himself a name around the nobles until he saw himself as one. The bastard also knew that a girl like Jeanne should be unreachable for a boy with a reputation like Felix's. Running away with her would probably end badly, but for the abusive blacksmith's son, there might have been no better option. Who other than his father would give him work in his village, and who would not mock his existence in daily tormentments if he stayed? 

"I will pick you up at the church tomorrow night, not far from your house." Felix decided to agree to her idea. Then he gave her an unsure look. "Will you be able to sneak out?"

The girl did not seem to be unbothered, and gave him a small nod. "Sure." She hesitated to speak up for a moment, chewing thoughtfully in her lip as she twirled one of her fiery curls around her finger. Then she said, "Why not run tonight?"

"You wear the wrong clothes for traveling. Besides, we carry nothing with us right now." Felix gave back. Jeanne looked down onto her dress, then back up to him. She gave him a confirming nod, before she jumped up and down in excitement, gently grabbing for one of his hands, then made a twirl to land in his arms and close her eyes. She was free spirited and carried away. No thought about the consequences were wasted as she returned home to get what she needed. Felix on the other side was on the edge. He could feel his heart racing and ready to jump right out of his chest, unclear if it was the excitement, fear or just anxiety. On his way back he could only think about encountering his father again, so he shoved every thought of Jeanne aside and concentrated on his tasks. When it came to packing, Felix did not feel the need to take anything else than his violin. His heart ached at the broken instrument, but he already fantasized of getting a new one as soon as he and Jeanne escaped. In another village he could get work. It was risky enough to pack a bag, and the probability of crossing his fathers way was nothing the young lad was very fond of. Besides, there was barely anything he owned that had any worth, and he would never risk stealing from his old man. The beatings if he would get caught could be the end of him for real this time. There was a lot on the line, but Felix tried his best not to think about it. When the night finally broke, the bastard started to get nervous. There had been a lot of rumbling and cursing from his father, that the bastard feared he would never go to sleep. Sneaking out of the window would only lead the boy to the inner yard and the barn, but getting past the animals was impossible without getting any attention. Felix killed every light in his room and leaned against his closed door, slowly sliding down to the ground. He waited patiently until the whole house was silent, and even a little longer. There was never not a reason to be cautious with his old man. Felix stopped counting how often he got beaten up for sneaking out of his room at night, mostly for getting food in the kitchen from being too hungry after being denied supper. There was more than enough food, but greediness was punished. Talking back was punished, crying was, and so was almost everything Felix did. He could only survive by being sly enough and tiptoe around the blacksmith. 

When Felix was sure of his father being asleep, he slowly opened the door to take a peak. Usually it was nothing that would bother him, but even the most silent creak made him nervous now. Would it wake his father? What if he was on guard tonight? The hall was empty and dark, so Felix dared to come out of his room. He tiptoed through the broad hallway, and as he did so, the boy felt so exposed. The creaking of the floor did not make him less nervous, until he reached the living room- the only passage outside. Felix stopped at the door, checking the room before he would proceed to leave the house.  When his eyes calmly searched the room, he did not see him at first glance, but when he did, Felix froze in place and his heart felt like it was exploding. His father sat in his armchair, holding a bottle of rum. The boy needed a second glance to realise that he was sleeping, passed out from the booze. With a short exhale of relief, Felix pressed himself against the wall behind him in the hallway. There was no way to get through that door, not with his father sleeping in there. Anything could wake him up, if he even was not deep asleep. If the old blacksmith would see his son run away with a bag in the middle of the night, there would be no bigger sign of a death wish.

Felix pressed himself down onto the floor, slowly crouching forwards over the cold wood. This would take time, but if he could reach the piano first, and then the table, he might take the final cover behind the small shelf near the door. Each piece of furniture would suddenly feel terribly far away, and the boy doubted that he would ever get out that night. It was worth a try. For Jeanne he would do anything, anytime. He pulled himself forward, shoving the bag in front of him while keeping an eye on the blacksmith. His heart beat rapidly through his chest against the floor, thumbing harder for each second he slowly crouched forward. Behind the piano Felix came to halt. He pressed the bag against his chest, as if it could help him somehow to calm his nerves. For a short moment the only sound he heard was the loud thumping of his heartbeat, along with the unsteady snoring coming from the old blacksmith. It was a sound like sewing through lumber, then, without a warning, a loud, gobbling, grunt from deep within his throat. Even though he was definitely faded out, the uneven noises made Felix unsure if he really was. Would this be a trick? But how would he even know what his son had in mind? Felix took a quick peek before rolling his eyes at himself. Would he really be a coward now, or would he get his shit together and finally do what he had to do? With gritted teeth he grabbed the bag and pushed it forward, with a straight beeline along the wall, hoping that the risk was worth it, and he would get faster out. As he crouched over the floor, the time felt like an eternity. Every centimeter he would get further forwards would still leave so much space between him and the exit. He paced up, and managed to get half through the room, when he suddenly realized that the snoring had stopped, and the room was filled with utter silence. Felix immediately froze again. He stayed in his position for a long time, no matter how hard his knees ached, before he finally dared to move his eyes. 

Still asleep. 

Now that it was silent, the boy did not dare to move at all. All he was doing was to stare intensely at his father, trying to figure out any movements, while fearing that he would open his eyes each moment. Nothing happened for an eternity. Then, finally, the snoring returned as if it had never stopped. Felix felt safe enough to hurry up faster, but not safe enough to rise to his feet until he reached the door. The boy gently pushed the door open, trying his best not to cause any noise that would wake his old man, then he sneaked the first steps outside, before the tall boy ended up running up the streets. Felix put on the brightest smile, and suddenly his emotions bursted out, and with all his excitement to be finally free, the bastard started to laugh from deep within his chest. There was nothing stopping him now, and for the first time in his life he felt free and happy- an emotion completely new. All those years suffering from beatings was worth it, now that he was old enough, Jeanne trusted him with an escape out of their awful lives. 

Once the church was finally in sight, Felix had run out of breath, but he kept his ambition to stay in pace. Impatient enough to hurry all the way through half of the village, was giving him a burning throat, so he came to halt for a short break. Getting closer, there was no sign of Jeanne. The soft breeze of fresh air was cold, but not blowing strong enough to cause the bastard to shiver as he waited for his love. Walking up and down, Felix kept himself busy as he waited.  His eyes wandered high up towards the sky, meeting the pale light of the moon. After a while that felt like an eternity, the bastard boy almost feared ending up coming all this way for nothing. He had already been late, so what if she already left? The chance that she never came, and never would, was also there. Not soon after he almost felt like leaving, light footsteps made their way towards him. Felix turned around and searched for every movement, until he finally detected Jeanne coming near him from uphill, as if she followed a secret path through the narrow trees around the church. 

"Jeanne." Felix said. "You came."

The first thing Felix noticed was how little she carried. It was just a small bag that could not contain more than a few things, yet the boy could barely offer more,  enough reason to keep his mouth shut. For the moment, the tall boy refused to care, but implied to change the location as fast as possible. He had been around for far too long, and he did not want to risk being caught by some villager. Felix knew he had to take the stone path downhill, past his own house and the miller, straight into the forest. He just prayed his old man was still not sobering up, and waking when his son was already far gone. The boy tried his best to stay fast, but after multiple complaints, Felix finally paced down for Jeanne so she could keep up. Lord, she was slow. Despite her lightweight, the girl stomped with heavy steps over the stonepath, making unnecessary noises. Felix was about to turn to her, asking her to be cautious, when suddenly something else caught his attention. Some shadows roamed over the streets, coming from up the barn, belonging to no one else than his father. How big were the odds to have this happen?  "Oh no." Hannah shrieked, causing those shadows to be on alert. The girl realized now that she had to hurry, or else they would be detected. Felix's heart was racing furiously now, and for a second he considered leaving the girl and running off.  He was fast enough, but since people came from his house, it was clear they were looking for him. Besides it was already too late, the pair had been detected by the group, and now made a beeline straight towards them.

"BASTARD BOY!" A growl echoed down the hill, causing Felix to stop like a deer that got caught in a headlight. He felt Jeanne freeze as well, grabbing his hand tightly, too scared to turn around and face the consequences of her actions. 

Fuck.

"Felix Forgeron!" 

The second voice was unmistakably the one of his father. Felix freed himself from his rigidity and slowly turned around to face his old man. He was standing not far from him, next to the blacksmith was Jeanne's furious financé, striking a threatening pose with a sword. Some of Jeanne's maidens watched the scene aside. They must have noticed her being missing, so they must have informed the young baron. The boy expected any kind of violence coming from his father, but to his surprise, the man kept himself restrained from showing any kind of aggression. Felix could only picture how embarrassing and angry he felt for having these people knock at his door, seeing him in that state, just to explain the situation.

"What have you thought? That you could run away and live somewhere without having anyone looking for her?" Felix's father mocked, but there was a certain kind of surprise in his voice, as if he really could not believe the scene in front of him. The old man was ashamed enough to call a whore's son his own, but now he had some serious damage to his reputation. There was a burning flicker of hatred in the man's eyes, filled with shame and rejection. Felix had never received love from his father, but never had he seen this hatred and disgust in that wrinkled up face either.

"She likes me and she asked me to run away with her." The way he thought that sentence sounded less dumb and embarrassing. Felix almost did not dare to look his father into his eyes. There was no time for the old man to reply, when his son was suddenly grabbed by his collar and tossed onto the ground.

"You have always been a coward! But stealing my fiance?" Albert threateningly held his sword up high, the sharp end pointing right at the bastard.

"Dad-"

"You like that girl? Fight for her!" The blacksmith turned his head after he tossed a rusty sword onto the ground. The bastard boy went pale at the sight of it alone, terrified of thinking about the outcome. Felix was not ready to die yet, not like this. Was his old man serious? Would he let his son die in a fight?

"When Albert came to me, reporting his fiance missing, I was sure she would be with you. To sort this out, and regain your honor, we decided to settle this with a fight." He briefly declared. "Now pick up the word!"

"I don't know how to fight with a sword!" Felix whined and probably sounded quite pathetic doing so.

"Well, that's on you!" Albert growled and swung his weapon, before Felix even had the chance to grab for his own. The bastard backed away, causing his attacker to miss. He swiftly crawled forward, grabbed his sword and jumped to his feet again, hoping he would even have a chance to win somehow. But Albert was much bigger and stronger than Felix, had a lot more fighting experience, and was in general a mean piece of shit.

"Look at yourself, bastard." His eyes were glistening in rage. He checked him from up to down, a judging look, as if he felt personally insulted to have him as a threat to his love life. "Even your whore mother can't stand you and left!" Albert had a smug grin plastered all over his face when he made the second hit. A heavy strike with his sword, too fast to escape, cutting its way through Felix's flesh on his right cheek. Felix let out an ear-splitting scream, and immediately dropped the sword to cover his bloody face with his hands, as if it could stop the rapids of the red river, which was shooting down his cheek in uncontrolled streams. There was a burning sensation rushing through the open flesh, throbbing in painful, itching waves, clouding the bastard boy's mind in uncontrollable pain. He flared his nostrils, feeling his breath taking an unsteady rhythm, as if the air was sucked out of his chest, barely being able to retrieve back. His eyes began to water, mixing with the blood on his face. "Look at this." Albert scoffed and threw his sword away. "Didn't expect more of a bastard. Stealing my bride one week before the wedding."

Felix tried his best to hide his surprise, but shot his head up immediately to face the young lord once more. He already knew that she had to marry Albert one day, but never could he assume that it would be so quick. "You have always been a disappointment. Tomorrow morning I will send you to the army." Felix's father spoke with a deadpan face, not showing any empathy for his weeping son.

"He kind of looks pathetic." Jeanne mumbled towards Albert and moved herself towards him, as if she were still seeking shelter in his arms after her betrayal. Albert was a simple man. The charming smile of a pretty girl, and quick fluttering with her eyelashes was enough to convince him. He probably did not even intend to stay faithful, Jeanne and her rich heritage was nothing more than a status to him, creating a flawless bloodline. The bastard despised that stupid ideology about clean and unclean bloodlines for the obvious reasons. It did not make any sense to reduce him to his parents past, yet the bastard kneeled in the dirt, desperately trying to console his panic attacks. It took him a second to process any of what just happened. Then it suddenly hit him worse than the sharp blade that scarred his face forever,- the army. For the first time Felix felt like crying. Not that Jeanne broke his heart by backstabbing him. No, rather his own stupidity, to ever believe a girl like her would really love him enough to care at least a little bit. A bastard was easy to play with, and no one really bothered. Her not even bringing anything important made it even more obvious for Felix that he got played, causing him to feel ashamed about falling for that. For Jeanne, he was just a distraction of her boring everyday life, and the frightening future of forced marriage. In the end, they both knew he had nothing to offer her. Now that they have been caught, there was nothing at all. The fantasy was gone. With Felix's violin  broken, there were not even some little tunes to cheer him up anymore. He was still weeping in the dirt when his father turned to the bastard one last time.

"I wish your mother had killed you and stayed instead." The blacksmith mumbled and turned. That was enough for Felix to snap. The burning in his eyes felt like a rush of rage, and for a glimpse of a second, the boy's impulse was strong enough to jump to his feet. Albert used that opportunity to make another strike, but missed this time by only leaving another small line on the bastard's cheek, so that an "X" would always mark his betrayal. With another yelp, Felix jumped back and tripped onto the ground, rolling around, just to lift himself up and run. There was nothing else to do than run from the scene, letting his feet levitate over the undergrowth of the nearest forest.

"RUN YOU FUCKING COWARD!" Albert yelled after him. All those salty tears mixed with the hot blood blurred Felix's sight with each step further the wind, until his sight was all gone. Nevertheless, he did not stop, but kept running instead, as if hell's demons were chasing him down. The boy came far enough, until he crossed a big tree. Before he could realize what was happening, Felix crashed with his head against the trunk and flung down onto the ground. The impact of that hit blackened his last, blurry sight, and gave him a nasty nausea that kept coming in waves, causing the boy to pass out not long after. 

When the boy woke up again, he was blinded by the sun. He needed no sight to recognise a different feeling underneath him, and to know that he had to be somewhere else than under the tree he ran against. He was so ill- wet eyed, and weak- he did not think anything of it at first. His instincts on the other hand,  told him to open his eyes, and to jump to his feet, assuming that his father had followed him, dragging him to another location. When Felix took a look around, he was staring at the ocean, and there was no sight of the old man. His one eye was still painfully burning, and his temples were pulsating in the rhythm of his heartbeat. He closed it shut again, trying to orient himself with only one, but there was only sand and water, and more water with even more sand.

"What in the-"

He had been in the forest and the beach was miles away. How did he get here? Felix moved his hand to his face, feeling the open flesh still being covered in blood, and he was not sure if this was supposed to be a weird dream from hitting his head.

"You look lost." A snarky comment from the side caused Felix to shrink in surprise, and shoot his eyes into the direction of the source. A boy his age, yet he looked like a brat- blonde, shaggy hair, a round face with dimples, that sat so teasing over his smirking lips.

"Fuck, what do you know?" Felix growled back, confused about this whole situation, but unwilling to show any kind of weakness. He was too proud to admit that he had no fucking clue where he was, and how desperately he could need some help. Also, he guessed that this boy was the one  bringing him from the forest to the beach. Trees were found behind him. "Don't worry." The boy said and raised his eyebrows. "we're lost, too."

Who was we? A boy, not very much taller than the other one, appeared behind some trees, as if he just waited for a perfect moment to make a show out of introducing himself. He was slender with brown skin, and in his black hair, he had braided red dyed feathers, along with bones of little animals. 

"Who is that ugly Neanderthal you dragged onto our Island?" He wore a wide grin, that Felix already hated him more than anything else around him. At his words his eyes widened in shock. Did he hear island? Where in the hell was he?

"What kind of freaky bird are you?" Felix gave back and the boy gave him a confirming nod, as if he had passed a test. "I can stand you Neanderthal boy." The boy said. "Name's Rufio." 

"Rufio." Felix repeated and grinned mockingly. What a weird name. "Felix, for the red bird."

The other boy interrupted the scene with an amused chuckle, one eyebrow lifted as if he judged the scene. "You look like shit. You can live with us, and I'll show you what makes this Island so special." The British boy said.

"I don't even want to stay." Felix growled and walked off. "Your Island is shit."

The British boy let out an amused chuckle, tilting his head with one eyebrow raised, as his eyes followed Felix walking away for only a few seconds, just to watch him stop quickly. It was as if he already contained the knowledge  for the reason to stop.  "Okay where am I?"

The boy bursted out into laughter and gave Felix a mischievous smile, "A place where dreams come true." The boy waved his hands in a mocking way. Felix shrugged and continued to walk off. "Whatever." 

"That wound looked nasty." Rufio called.

"I can deal with it on my own." Felix shouted back while trying  to  keep a deadpan face. There was no way these two could have kidnapped Felix and dragged him that far. If this was some kind of cruel joke, the tall boy did not get the pun. What was the point in bringing him here? But where was here? Felix had enough of this. He came to halt one last time, finally coming to the conclusion that he had no other choice than to go with these boys. Felix had nowhere else to go, so the curiosity inside him grew towards the British boy. 

"Who are you? How did I get here? What in the hell do you want?" It bursted out of him as soon as he stood in front of the grinning brat. He just would not stop, not even when Felix lifted him up by his collar, allowing the blood of his fresh wound to drop on the other one's neat skin. 

"Easy, mate!" Rufio shouted, and hit the back of Felix's knee with a heavy kick, causing the weakened boy to loosen his grip, and drop onto the sand, as if commanded to.

"Peter Pan." The British boy answered and walked off without another glance at Felix. "But call me Pan." 

"I will do shit, Peter."

"I like your fire."

Cocky bastard. Felix hated it, that he was forced to trust this green dressed, elven-like boy, no matter how much his instincts told him otherwise. The bastard boy gritted his teeth, and buried his nails into the sand, before he swallowed his anger to rise up and follow these strange boys. He trusted them as far as he could throw them, that's for sure, yet he still wondered how he ended up on a beach in the middle of nowhere. The boy's head was still buzzing from the hit against the tree, and now thinking about it, he felt a lot embarrassed about it. Have these boys been around to witness how stupid he must have looked like? Probably. How else did they bring him? 

"I am not going anywhere until you freaks tell me where I am, and how you got me here!" Felix fumed and received in return nothing but a quick exchange of looks from the boys, followed with laughter.  

"He really has a strong aura, sure." Rufio laughed at Peter Pan. 

"Now what the fuck are you talking about?" Felix cussed, growing more frustrated each second. There was no way to ever express his true nature with his father, showing or saying what he really thought.

"Oh, he is more than just a cowardly bastard." 

"What in the-"

"I had an eye on you for longer than that." Peter looked over his shoulder to show his grinning ferret face,- round and unassuming, yet the danger was always to sense, and it was clear that this boy did not like to get tested. 

"You know, I can sense it when someone is lost, my friend." Peter grinned.

"I am not your friend." Felix gave back dryly.

"And no one is more lost than you, friend." Peter ignored the bastard as if he simply chose not to hear him. "I can show you how the flute of the lost can cheer you up." 

Peter pulled out a Pan flute, his eyes glistened in excitement as he pressed his lips against the instrument. He exchanged a short glance with Rufio, who was already waiting impatiently for his friend to start playing. 

"I hear shit." Felix hated any kind of music after his passion died with Jeanne.

Peter's face twitched intrigued Rufio shared the same unbelieving expression, but did not say a word.

"Well, that's strange." Peter said, his voice sounded surprised rather than really shocked. "This flute contains magic, and only the lost ones can hear it. 

"Magic." Felix repeated, and he remembered that he had heard of it, but never saw it in any form. It explained how these boys could kidnap him, but not why him at all, why they watched him and brought them to this place. 

"Adults are tiring. They have so many responsibilities-" Felix felt that. "-but here we can live young forever, free and bothersome." 

This time it was Felix who laughed. It came from deep within his throat, joyful. It took him a moment to realise that the boy was not kidding at all. He did not look amused, and kept a deadpan face for the first time. 

"I will show you." Peter said and waved his hand. Felix only blinked for a second, but suddenly he was not at the beach anymore, but standing between rocks in front of a small spring, hidden behind some thorny vines. 

"It's dreamshade." Peter pointed at the black, oily substance coming from the thornes. "It can kill you, once the poison reaches your heart." 

Then he looked over to Rufio, giving him a dagger, and nodded. Rufio took the dagger and made a cut in his palm. Felix watched in horror, but refused to give away anything he thought. Many years and traumatic experiences with his fathers were a lesson enough to keep a straight face in every situation. Peter handed his friend the filled water bottle and they both watched him take a sip. At first, nothing was happening. Then, after a few moments, the wound in his hand stopped bleeding and the skin slowly grew back together. Felix could not hide his surprise, and suddenly he felt nothing but curiosity. Peter turned to him with a wide smile, as if he wanted to say, "See?". He had already been convinced when he had teleported them here without any explanation. Felix still had many questions, and he did not know where to start.

"I brought you here, because I am looking only for the most lost souls. Only they deserve to live in eternity."

"So basically boys and girls with a bad life?"

Rufio scoffed. 

"Girls can stay where they are. They only make trouble and ruin all the fun." 

Felix thought of Jeanne, and he could relate. Suddenly there was anger coming up inside him, and he tried to shove any memory with her away, no matter how nice they had been. Not after her betrayal. Rufio was right, girls do ruin the fun, and he could clearly live without them. Having boys around was also something he could live without after being tormented by the ones in his village, but if that was the deal he had to accept this.

"But why me?" 

"I could feel your desperation within miles. Your childhood reminds you of my own. My father was a blacksmith, too. He neither cared if I got burned by a coal, and he beat me a lot." 

"You pitied me?" Felix asked insulted.

"I pitied you the most out of all the boys I chose to get here. Truth be told, you and your violin were pretty pathetic."

Felix fumed inside, but breathed the anger out with one large exhale of his nostrils. What a fucking dork. Why was this cocky brat like that? There was no point in what he did, but Felix could feel that there would be many things where he would not receive an answer when asked. Peter Pan, a mysterious bitch. 

"But that was not the reason." Peter dropped the smile again. "I can feel something about you. I can not explain it, but with your help, we can live together. You'll see, this island is dying, and if it does, so will its magic.  Your aura… it's…-" He stopped. Felix would never hear the end of that sentence for that Peter simply shrugged it off with another grin.

"This water is sacred to keep the island alive. I allow no one to come here that is not important. But if you want to heal that nasty wound in your face, go on." Peter then offered and held the water bottle into Felix's direction. The bastard boy shook his head.

"You sure you don't want the water?" He was amazed by him all over again. Felix nodded. "The scar is a reminder for myself." 

"Remind you of what?" Peter asked curiously, but he would not get an answer. The cocky brat was not the only one who could keep a secret. It hurt like hell, but Felix knew that he had to keep this wound until it was a scar. If he would really live on this island with these two boys- and maybe even more-, he had to be reminded of his past, and that he should never trust his heart that easily. Felix turned around, to explore the surroundings with Rufio following, unaware of what friendship he would develop with him, and that the beautiful island would be his new cage.

"None of your business."