Old man

"Please, I need this. I'm hungry," a frail voice pleaded.

Curiosity piqued, I rose to my feet and walked toward the source of the disturbance. As I approached a secluded corner of the yard, hidden from most of the others, I saw two young men circling an elderly, fragile man. The old man clutched his meager rations tightly, his face etched with desperation.

"You're going to die on the battlefield on the first day anyway," one of the young men sneered. "Might as well hand over your food now."

The other man laughed cruelly. "Yeah, old man, you won't need it where you're going."

The sight of this scene stirred a deep anger within me, reminding me of Stroud's earlier mockery and my own helplessness. The two bullies looked rough and dirty, their bodies not overly muscular but intimidating enough. They were taking advantage of someone weaker, just as Stroud had done to me.

The old man protested weakly, "Please, I just want to eat."

The bullies ignored him and tried to snatch his rations forcefully.

'These bastards…..'

I couldn't stand it. I saw Stroud's smug face in theirs and knew I had to act. The fact that these stupid fuckers were doing such a thing made me mad. I felt the pain on my cheek and the humiliation I felt. It made me feel the need to take my anger out of someone.

But I also knew that taking on both of them head-on was a losing battle. At least many things could happen, and there was no reason to take such a risk.

Then, an idea struck me. I remembered how Brann had handled the attackers in the living quarters, using surprise and strategy. I picked up a small, jagged stone from the ground and approached the bullies silently from behind.

–THUD!

With a swift motion, I brought the stone down hard on the head of the one in the middle. He yelped in pain, staggering forward and releasing his grip on the old man's rations. The other bully turned to face me, rage contorting his features.

Before he could react, I spat in his face and bolted, running as fast as my legs could carry me. "Get back here, you little shit!" he yelled, giving chase.

The first bully, now partially recovered, joined in the pursuit. The adrenaline surged through me, dulling the pain in my body. I ran, weaving between the makeshift tents and training equipment, the sound of their footsteps pounding behind me.

I didn't look back. My focus was entirely on escaping. The terrain was rough, but I used it to my advantage, ducking under low-hanging branches and leaping over obstacles. My pursuers were relentless, but their anger clouded their judgment, making them slower and less coordinated.

As I rounded a corner, I spotted Sergeant Brann standing nearby, overseeing some trainees. With a final burst of speed, I sprinted toward him, the bullies hot on my heels.

"Help! They're trying to kill me!" I shouted, hoping to draw Brann's attention.

Brann's sharp eyes snapped to me and then to the bullies chasing me. His expression darkened, and he stepped forward, placing himself between me and my pursuers.

"Enough!" Brann's voice boomed, stopping the bullies in their tracks. "What is going on here?"

The bullies skidded to a halt, their faces pale with fear. "He... he attacked us!" one of them stammered, pointing at me.

But I already knew what to do. Since I was a child, Stroud had put me forward as a target. Thus, it wouldn't be weird if someone were to try to take what I had. I took a deep breath and spoke up, my voice steady despite the tension.

"No, I didn't. They were trying to take my rations, and I just wanted to defend myself," I said, pointing to the torn and ruptured pieces of potato and bread they held. "When I couldn't defend myself, I spat on their faces and ran. They chased me because of that."

Brann's gaze shifted to the bullies, who were holding the damaged food. The evidence was clear. The half-eaten and torn rations were a testament to their actions. Brann's expression darkened further, his anger palpable.

"You two," Brann growled, his voice low and menacing. "You think you can steal from others and get away with it?"

The bullies stammered, trying to come up with excuses, but Brann cut them off. "For the next week, you will both give one of your rations to him as punishment. If I hear of any more trouble from either of you, the consequences will be much worse."

The bullies' faces fell, and they nodded reluctantly. "Yes, Sergeant," they muttered. But their eyes contained hatred all across the place. It was evident that they hated being played by me, but there was nothing they could do.

Brann turned to me, his expression changing slightly. "This was the second time." He said, his face cold.

"You did well to stand up for yourself, Lucavion. But remember, this place is full of people who will take advantage of any perceived weakness. Stay vigilant."

"Thank you, Sergeant," I replied, genuinely grateful.

Brann nodded. "Now, get your wounds checked at the infirmary. Say to Laila that it was me who sent you there. If she doesn't believe me, tell her it was on my order. She'll understand."

"Understood, Sergeant," I replied, my voice steady.

Brann turned his attention back to the trainees, barking orders to get them moving again. I took a moment to catch my breath before heading towards the infirmary. The bullies glared at me as I walked past, their hatred palpable, but I held my head high. I had won this round, and I wasn't going to let their anger intimidate me.

As I approached the infirmary, the familiar scent of herbs and antiseptics filled the air. I stepped inside, and there was Laila, busy tending to another injured soldier. She looked up as I entered, her expression softening when she saw the state I was in.

"Miss Laila," I said, my voice slightly strained. "Sergeant Brann sent me. He said it was on his order."

Laila nodded, setting aside her current task. "Come here, let me take a look at you."

I moved to the cot, she indicated, sitting down with a wince. The pain in my cheek and ribs was sharper now that the adrenaline was wearing off. Laila examined my injuries with a practiced eye, her hands gentle yet firm.

"You've had a rough start, haven't you?" she said, her voice filled with a mix of sympathy and professionalism.

I nodded, feeling the exhaustion settling in. "It's been... challenging."

She hummed in acknowledgment as she began to work. Her healing magic felt like a soothing balm, easing the pain and closing the wounds. As the warmth spread through me, I felt some of the tension melt away.

"Brann's right, you know," Laila said quietly as she worked. "You need to stay vigilant. This place is harsh, and people will try to take advantage of you. But you have a good heart, Lucavion. Don't lose that."

"...Why did you think so?"

"I know when I see one."

"…..I see…." I just got the words out and then lowered my head to look down.

After a few minutes, she finished her healing and stepped back. "There, you should feel better now. Just try to avoid any more trouble for a while."

I nodded, standing up and testing my newly healed body. The pain was mostly gone, replaced by a dull ache that I could easily ignore. "I'll try my best."

"Good," Laila said with a small smile. "Now, go get some rest. You'll need it for the training ahead."

I thanked her once more and left the infirmary, heading back to the place where we would be training once again.

After all, I knew I would not be able to avoid what would be happening there.

As I returned to the training yard, Stroud was waiting with the other sergeants. His eyes narrowed as he spotted me, but he made no comment. Instead, he barked out his orders.

"Back to those spears! Training resumes now."

We all grabbed our spears and resumed the drills. The rest of the day was a blur of relentless training, broken only by a brief lunch break. We practiced thrusts, parries, and stances until our muscles screamed in protest and our bodies ached from exhaustion.

By evening, the sun was setting, casting long shadows across the yard. Finally, Stroud called an end to the training, and we were dismissed to get our evening meals.

I collected my rations along with the extra ones from the bullies as per Brann's order. Despite the exhaustion, the additional food was a small victory that lifted my spirits.

I made my way back to the same quiet spot where I had eaten earlier. As I settled down, I noticed the old man from before sitting nearby with his own meager meal.

I didn't want to bother him, as he was quietly eating his meal, so I started eating mine.

But then, he suddenly turned to look at me.

"Why did you do that?"

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