The Regiment Of The Woods

The next day started like every other before it. Severus woke early that day, which gave him time to stop by one of the bakeries and purchase a couple of buns. The hot food gave him a burst of energy as he made his way towards the store. Even though he made it in well before daybreak, Madame still eyed him darkly as he began his opening chores. Still, once the store opened and the day truly began, Severus was able to easily duck her attention by staying busy and in the background. Just another day, he thought glumly and

stacked another box.

Luckily for him, the day went uneventfully, and Severus was able to skip out with a couple extra coppers in his pocket due to a last minute sale he was able to triple with some persuasion. Madame had been pleased with the extra coin to finish the day and had given him the small bonus, a rare gift of magnanimity. With them, he was able to buy a loaf of fresh bread and a small jar of fruit jam. The food settled comfortably in his shrunken gut, and Severus made sure to wrap the leftover half loaf carefully before falling into a comfortable sleep. Thank the gods tomorrow was his day off....

The next morning, he woke well after dawn. Tearing a chunk of leftover bread off and locking his door behind him, he walked to the Market District, a few spare coins jingling in his purse. He munched on his bread, glancing blankly over several stalls' wares, when he spotted something in an alley. Two children sat at the entrance of an alley next to a small, clay bowl. A few scant coins glinted brown at him from it, but the haggard and drawn look of the children made Severus think they didn't spend much of it in themselves. He hesitated. His own stomach grumbled at him, gnawing for the handful of bread he still had. The smaller child, as if aware of the watchful eyes, sat up. Big, soft, brown eyes locked with his own black ones and filled with a silent plea.

"Aw, hell," he mumbled. He took a step forward, slapped the hunk of bread into the smaller child's hand, and fished a silver out to flip into the bowl. The bigger child jerked up at the clatter of coin and clay, and he scrambled up as Severus marched away. Already he regretted giving away his breakfast, but the silver? That was just plain lunacy. Then he heard a dim voice call through the chatter of the Market.

"Thank you!"

He froze for a step, then waved the call away in irritation even as his tail gave a quiet wag. He made his way to a drink stand and paid for an iced fruit drink. The day was hot, with no clouds to shield away the bright sun. He took a sip,

the cool liquid soothing his warm body.

"Do you really think war is inevitable?"

"Course! Those damn Wolves can't be trusted fer peace! So thuy'll need any

soldier they can git!" Severus nearly spit his drink. Only one type of people talked like that.

"We really have a shot?" the first City Guard asked eagerly. He sounded young, probably freshly inducted. His partner, an older Guard, laughed loudly.

"Fer certain! I'd bet a month's earnin's we'd git in!" he roared. Severus clicked his tongue and moved away from the drink stand to a nearby table. This was ever the hope of the City Guard. Most, if not all, had failed to make it past the rank of an ordinary soldier and into the prestigious Centums where they would be given special training, sparkling arms and armor, and fatter purses. Though, many would also claim they were good enough to serve in an Electi, the elites who served under a single Commander and were given the most dangerous missions and most plentiful glory. All of it was horse swill, of course; the upper ranks were guarded from the unworthy by a series of brutal tests. No amount of desperation would permit these vermin to enter the Centums'ranks. Severus took another sip. But alright, he thought. Let's say they did. What glorious Commander would these idiots

sweat and die under?

"I'd even swear whut Commander we'd git." The recruit's eyes widened at the gossipy news. Severus snorted under his breath.

"who?" The vet took a swig and grinned. "Colonel Winford!"

Severus felt his breath catch and his body stiffen. A ringing filled his ears. White filled his eyes.

A massive hand ruffling his hair and ears. "Be a good boy, son."

Uniformed soldiers at the door.

A woman. Wailing.

'A foolish charge that ended badly." Who?

"Colonel Winford."

Severus blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision. The ringing faded to hear the end of the Guard's loud talking.

"—and is one of the greatest military minds of our generation! No, in all

Olander history!!" "You're right about that, Sarge!" "Yer damn right!! Hah hah hah hah hah ha--!"

"Your Colonel's a pompous windbag and a filthy bilge rat who deserves to be flogged for his sheer incompetence at commanding troops."

For the first time in Severus's life, the Market grew quiet. Severus blinked at the deafening silence. Who had said that? It couldn't have been... him? With a sickening feeling in his gut, he slowly turned to the table the City Guards sat at. The young Olander stared at him in obvious surprise and

confusion. The older one, though....

Something slammed into his left cheek, hard and fast. The unexpected force snapped Severus's head to around and lifted him off the ground. The world spun in a whirl of colors, shapes, and sounds. A solid object met his airborne body, held for a moment, and then splintered with a great crash that filled his ears. For amoment, Severus lost focus. Where was he? What happened? His ears rang, all the sound around him becoming muffled and dim. His mouth had some liquid in it, and he spat it out. A lightning bolt of pain shot through his mouth and into his skull. He blinked furiously and shook his head to shake the wringing and haze from him. The older Olander was bellowing something at him. The sarge shook a reddened gauntlet at him as he shouted incoherently. Severus looked down stupidly. The liquid he had spit out was red.

Ah, he thought. /t's my blood. He punched me, and now I'm bleeding. He frowned. /'m bleeding? He punched me?!

Suddenly, rage swept through Severus's body. He felt his hands ball into tight fist as his humiliation and anger balled into one huge thundercloud of pure hate. Now his mind and ears were clear, just as a hand seized his tunic and yanked him up.

"You dare ignore the City Guard?!" the recruit shouted in Severus's face. Severus locked eyes with the Olander.

Oh, that is IT!!

With shocking speed, Severus swung his knee back and then forward into the recruit. The Olander's eyes went wide and then rolled back as his knees buckled, his free hand already moving to the front of his tunic. Severus was already planting his feet, the muscle memory of only a few years ago triggering him to not let up. The young Olander had only just begun to fall forward when Severus's right hook slammed into his cheek with enough force to send two, pearly teeth rocketing out of his mouth. The recruit hit the ground and was still. Severus spun to face the sergeant, who was already rushing him like a bull. The older Olander caught Severus around his middle and ran him into the ground. Severus felt his air rush out his lungs in a wheezy cough and slammed his fists into the Olander's back. The Olander growled and rolled off him. Severus scrambled on his hands and knees for a moment, trying desperately for his lungs to work again. Breathe! he screamed at them silently, his muscles aching from the fight. A boot caught his middle, flipping him over. Severus grunted as the sergeant sat on his middle and seized the front of his tunic. The gleaming gauntlet reared back again.

Aw, shi--.

WHACKI! The gauntlet crashed against his other cheek. Blood filled his mouth again. Dribbled down his chin.

WHACK!! Head lolling. Mind blanking.

"Say it again!" WHACK! "I dare ya, ya two-faced, scum-born, son-of-abuzzard!!" The world rolled and pitched. Severus felt his head hang like a rag. Still his hate seared in his soul. All the disgusted looks. His own bitter and envious thoughts. The burning tears he cried nearly every night at his own despair. All of it boiling into a white-hot fuel that gripped his soul. Something inside that he had buried for so long had snapped. There was no turning back.

Never again will | submit to the likes of this Olander. This... bully!

Numquam iterum tyrannis obtemperabo.

(Never again will | submit to tyrants.)

"| said," Severus snarled through a mouthful of blood, "your precious colonel isa filthy... BILGE RAT ... who deserves to be flogged and booted for being a completely useless commanding officer!!"

And then he spat his dribbling mouthful of blood into the Olander's face.

The Olander turned pale and then drew back his fist.

WHACK!!