Lumen sat cross-legged in his Spartan room. It was dimly lit, and the door was locked from the inside so he would not be disturbed by anyone. His hands were folded, and his eyes closed. His body tingled with energy, and a bluish aura surrounded him.

  Manifested energy.

  Every breath he took, small fractured bits of mana enveloped his [Weakened core]. He was attempting to knit it closed, the corrupted core that resided within him. Why did it break? He did not know. When did it start breaking? He couldn't remember. And yet, something was off this time, as he tended to mend it. Something about fixing it now was strange.

  A flicker of a memory graced his head. He was staggering through the wilderness, running from something. Out of food and water. No energy left. His body battered and broken. It was a golden field. Something was chasing him. Something that could fly—perhaps a great eagle, or maybe, yes, something scaly like a dragon. He came to the border, and then... he was wrapped in chains.

  His thoughts were interrupted.

  A knock on the door, repetitive and wrathful. The person at the door smelled like cheap liquor and fried dough. It was the manager—who else was drinking excessive amounts of beer daily?

  "You're fighting in a moment!" His words cut through his tranquility like a heavy dagger, loud and disruptive. A pestilence. "Are you in there, you little twink? You'll be fighting Toren. And here's the catch: I know you can beat him, but I don't want you to. I'm raking in hundreds of gold coins, and I do not want you to win."

  He slammed the door one more time. "You hear me, you fucking elf? I'm giving you half an hour to get out here, or there will be whippings and lashings."

  Lumen gritted his teeth. The rat bastard. One of these days, he would cut his throat.

  The man stepped away, his footsteps heavy as he went down the corridor. Lumen didn't relax until he left. Another day, another fight. Fighting to lose was even harder than fighting to win. He had to ensure that he wasn't killed in such a maneuver. The gladiators were a wild and ruthless bunch.

  But what choice did he have?

  Lumen gripped his new long blade. A fine gift it was indeed. He took his whetstone across the steel, sharpening it just a little bit further and further. If he couldn't stab Toren, he would have to cut him, weaken him.

  Lumen stood up, swinging the blade around. How long was he going to be willing to bend his knees? The end of the month? Wait for Yssella to rescue him? No, that would be foolish. Something...

  It was stirring within him, and the longer he remained caged in this place, the longer he would draw himself to death.

  "Let's get this over with."

  *******

  Lumen stood in front of his barbarous opponent. Taking in the view, there were a lot more people today. Strangers of all sorts. Some foreigners by the dressing of their clothing. All here to gawk at people being harmed for entertainment.

  They were a sick bunch, or was it simply a human custom to see other's suffer for the thrill of it. How many of the fools up their could even fight.

  Toren put his foot down hard, kicking sand his way. Lumen coughed as he waved the sand away. The bald man laughed. "I'm going to love making you squirm, you knife-ear."

  Lumen remained silent and calm. If he let the brute take hold of his mind, he would end up losing his temper. Toren approached, bringing down his battle axe in front of Lumen. The crowd roared. Lumen bared his arm slightly, just enough that it would make an open wound. His blood splattered on the floor, coating the sand crimson.

  Toren swung again, bringing his sword down to meet Lumen's blade. Lumen parried but was sent slightly backward due to the man's overwhelming strength. It was a good thing Toren didn't concentrate his mana, if the fool even knew how to do that. Or Lumen would be in a predicament.

  Lumen struck at the overlarge fiend, jabbing his arm slightly. Toren backed away as Lumen started an assault, then spun around and brought his axe in a circular formation.

  "Is that all you got, whelp?"

  Whelp? Whelp! No. Lumen was old, older than this boy in front of him. He was ancient, older than every human that stood here, and yet he was treated with improper respect. He would show them. He would show them.

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Lumen focused on his mana. He absorbed the blow from the beast man. The blow pressured him, but his mana compensated, stunning the giant. Lumen saw an opportunity. As the man's heavy axe was in the process of being raised, Lumen struck his blade out like a pointy rapier. The blade jabbed just above the man's heart.

  Cheers erupted from the crowd as he tore into the man. He swore he heard his name being uttered at least once. There were more encouraging cheers for the man in front of him. "Toren, Toren."

  He stepped back away. His eyes turned bloodshot red. "You little bastard, I'll show you."

  The bald man started raging. He grabbed the axe in both hands, then started swinging it like a whirlwind. Wish-wish. The bloodthirsty crowd encouraged his enthusiasm.

  Lumen wondered. If he won by accident, would he be punished severely? There were fools in the crowd who expected him to lose. Fools who bet their life savings on such a frivolous thing. He'd spare them this once, but Toren would get a nasty slap on the ass.

  Something shifted inside of him. A memory, a flicker of an idea. Lumen's stance changed as the whirlwind of axes came at him. Mana flooded his feet, his footwork lightened. He felt nimble, like the wind. A skill he had long forgotten.

  [Mana Step]

  It would enhanced his speed greatly, propell him to greater heights.

  As he pressed forward to counterattack, he slid underneath the area of effect, kicking Toren's legs, making the man lose momentum. The axe was sent flying, and the beast tripped. He stood over him as the crowd erupted in boos and awe.

  The manager called out to him from the nearby stand. "Lumen, what the fuck are you doing?"

  Right, he was supposed to lose. Time to get on that track again.

  Lumen sighed. More memories flooded in him. He was in a forest, eating fish, catching fish, with someone—a lover of a bygone era, an elf, much like him. It ate at him that he couldn't recall any of it.

  And yet, this was the wrong time to focus on it. Lumen dropped his sword, seemingly damaged by the whirlwind. He fell to his knees, feigning defeat. Hands grasping the sand, and like the sand that slipped away, so too did he feel his life was.

  The crowd erupted in triumph and cheer.

  "Toren! Toren! Toren!"

  Toren stood up and let out a war cry. He stepped towards the kneeling elf and raised his fist, then slammed it into his face. Lumen was sent flying to the ground. The bald man was unsatisfied, and he started running, grabbing Lumen mid-air, pressing hard. Lumen's head collided with the ground, then Toren swung Lumen and threw him against the barrier.

  The manager stepped in.

  "Enough, you big oaf. You're done."

  Lumen groaned in pain and cradled himself together. His limbs were sore; something broke again under the onslaught. Now, he just had to wait. Blood leaked from his nose, thick and red.

  "I'm not satisfied!"

  The manager was surrounded by several guards. "You can't kill him, he makes me good money, you fucking ogre. Get in line, you won't."

  Toren spat on the ground, then announced loudly, "I'll gut you in your sleep. Or maybe I'll do worse." He started cackling. Then walked away after leaving his ominous message behind.

  Lumen struggled to stand up. This humiliation needed to end soon. Lumen seethed as they dragged him away from the coliseum. The guards threw him in the healer's chamber, where Evander was currently on duty. Lumen would lie to say he wasn't jealous. Evander didn't have to fight so much because he could do healing magic, which made him a precious resource for the lord of the coliseum, whom they never saw, strangely enough.

  The door closed behind them. Lumen clenched his fists together and started shaking. Something dark whispered inside of him, something that was asking him to kill and kill and kill.

  Evander took him by the arms, gentle and caring. "Come on, senior, let's get you fixed up."

  "What if I don't need your healing, Evander? I'll be fine." Lumen shouted.

  "You're angry. Take a moment, to breath, then let me fix you up."

  Lumen didn't respond. The battering and the abuse hurt him more than anything else. His rage was set aflame. Toren, the manager, the humans, the lord of the colliseum, they needed to pay.

  "Next time, I won't kneel. Not for them. Not for anyone."

  Evander put his hands on Lumen's shoulders and whispered in his ear, voice low, "What if you don't have to?"

  "What?" Lumen was surprised; it wasn't like Evander to whisper.

  "You hate this, don't you? What if it never had to happen again? What if you could leave tomorrow? For a better place, maybe."

  "What are you on about?"

  "I heard rumors that tomorrow…" He paused, looking to see if Lumen was paying attention. "A very powerful noble will be visiting."

  "So what, more fighting for their entertainment?"

  "No, I heard she's looking for exceptional fighters, exotic ones. If you could prove your worth, you could leave…"

  "She?"

  "A foreigner, from the far north, they say she's very strange, a mystic of sorts."

  Lumen pondered. He would be trading one master for another. But if he could leave this dastardly place, perhaps he could survive.

  "Who is this noble–"

  There was a knock on the healer's room. A red-haired goddess peeked inside. It was none other than his patron and lover, Lady Ysella. She looked concerned, and there was a flicker of a tear in her eyes.

  She ran towards him, hugging him. "Oh, Lumen, you did well, but I was afraid you would—I was afraid you would die."

  "Arrghh," he cried as she hugged him, pressing against his ribs. "I'm okay."

  "No, no, you're not." Evander was silent, his eyes darting to his mistress, staring at her physique. He didn't blame him. Everyone wanted her.

  Ysella touched his wrist, then opened the basket she carried. "I brought you some fruit and some medicine; it should dull the pain."

  Would it? He wasn't so sure.

  "I appreciate the gesture, Lady Ysella."

  "Don't be so cute."

  She kissed him on the lips, making his friend blush in envy and awkwardness.

  "Lady Ysella, I mean not to be rude, but this is a private chamber. I need to tend to Lumen's wounds."

  "Oh, shut up, Evander. They planned on killing him out there. If that would happen, I would burn this coliseum down."

  He blinked in surprise. Did she really care that much for him? That she would kill teh other humans.

  Evander laughed. "I'm sure you will," but his eyes said a different thing. He wasn't amused by her behavior. Did Lumen misjudge his friends stares, he thought they were gazes of Envy. Evander handsome as he was a gentle man, he didn't know this more sinister side of him. He'd ask when he had the chance, perhaps he didn't like Ysella. Or maybe he still had the sinister heart he had before.