"Take him away." The man said. "He can live, for now."

Two armored guards, with steam gushing out of their metal armor and a crystal fixed on the center of the chest plate glowing a radiance of yellow, took away Flo to his cell inside the dim tunnel.

A guard tossed Flo inside a dark room, a bitter cold he was too familiar with. Metal bars then shut off his escape, and he was there, alone and shivering once again. Drops of unclean water dripped continuously to the cold ground from the broken pump system on the ceiling, hearing a continuous galling noise of water splashing against metal every second or so. Dirt walled the cell Flo was caged in, and it was a gritty nightmare to live in such a state.

His stomach was rumbling with his mouth parched from water deprivation, in need of food and nutrition to keep himself alive. After countless hours enduring the hunger, thirst, and coldness of the underground cell, he finally gave in and fell unconscious, falling flat on the dull floor.

.

.

.

Flo opened his eyes, greeted by a majestic black light that seemed to radiate much power, almost blinding him. He steadied himself as he tried to stand, surveying his surroundings. He was present in a colossal throne room, everything tens of times higher than the eye could see. Everything inside radiated a color of vast blackness so dark it was apparent to the eye. Massive banners depicting the history of Fleis, stitched and drawn beautifully with an unknown material, lined the inner walls of the room.

"Kneel."

A voice brimming with strength and majesty resonated along the throne room, shaking Flo to his very core. He tried to comprehend what the source of the echo was, but as soon as he glanced at the colossus that which sat upon a throne so colossal it was incomprehensible, his heart trembled, with his strength seemingly leaving his body, as he knelt in despondence to the great being.

"You may now rise, mortal." The being commanded. Flo, with great insignificance, stood on his two feet, although trembling against the pure majestic aura the giant exerted. The being examined Flo with great curiosity, and then gestured a wave with its grandeur hand emblazoned with jewelry unlike that of any other.

"Enter." The colossal said. A great door opened at Flo's back, and out came a man, a man too familiar, that was well in his death bed. It was the old man he fought in the arena.

"Do you approve of my passing of your blessing to this child, great and most high?" The old man trembled to his knees, bowing his head in complete loyalty.

"He can do."

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.

.

"Hey kid, wake up!"

Flo roused from his sleep and immediately smelled the scent of food inside his cell. He found himself grabbing a metal plate filled to the brim with steamed rabbit meat, and roasted bitefishes as appetizers, and dug into the delicious taste. The person handed Flo a metal cup filled with crystal water filled to the brim, and he drank it in a few quaffs after finishing his meal.

Flo then turned a bit of his attention to the person on the other side of the bars -while still eating, who was observing him the entire time as the man held a lantern, fixed with a magic crystal, to use as a light source. "Ya sure have it in ya blood, boy!" The stranger said. "Your pa could swallow a damn royal elk in one take if he wished so!"

As soon as the stranger mentioned Flo's father, he stopped in his tracks and eyed the person. He was in his middle years, around fifty, with the light of the lantern reflecting against his spectacles. With a ragged cloak, he hid his many metal contraptions, such as a rifle and others he could not understand, which Flo took his attention to.

"This?" The stranger asked. "Its a clocker. A semi-automatic rifle powered by ye magos-infused crystals." He continued on and on about the mechanics and whatnot of the clockwork rifle, leading to Flo's boredom and disinterest.

"Anyways," the stranger said. "I'm here to give ya this, a blessed rune." He pickpocketed a flat stone with a glowing carved mark from his pack and gave it to Flo. It was Flo's first in handling magic imbued items, and so an unforeseen event happened. Little horns grew out from his forehead, radiating brilliant red. Flo was taken aback, landing flat on his bum, squirming as he fingered his horns in surprise.

"What's this?" Flo asked.

"Just getting ya deer blood pumping." The person replied. "After all, ya do carry your mother's blood!"

Flo heard a faint voice calling for him inside the runestone, telling him to break it. Flo heeded the voice of calling and broke the stone. Red swirls of magos engulfed his body, seemingly playing around, just before getting sucked in through the mouth and nose, sealing off the magic within Flo.

"What?" Flo stuttered.

"That was but a small drop of the pool essence of the great Nature of Combat." The stranger said. "It's not as great as a blessing from the real deal, but ya'll need it for tomorrow."

Just before Flo could ask of the event unfolding tomorrow, faint echoes of voices far out the tunnel reached the ears of them both, a time for the stranger to make his exit. "Don't give the benefit of a doubt." The person said. "Wait for me the next day, at around the time when shadows don't overextend their boundaries."

Then in one swish of the person's cloak, alas, he was gone, faint footsteps following his wake. Flo remained, adrenaline pumping up his body to its peak. He was confused, heated, yet very excited for what was to come on the next day's high noon. As the voices -possibly guards, neared Flo's cell, he settled in for the day. For the first time in captivity, he was able to go to sleep soundly even on the cold metal ground, because, for the first in his three full years enslaved, he was able to sleep without hunger, thirst, and also the sense of worry.