Pain. At some point, Klen had stopped trying to tell where one hurt ended and another began. Everything simply ached. His chest burned. His arms screamed. His head pounded. Even drawing breath felt like swallowing glass. The agony had grown so fierce that his body no longer bothered to separate it into pieces. It just existed. A constant, crushing weight that pressed down upon every inch of him.
Blood dripped from his broken body onto the cold stone floor beneath him. His wrists remained tied above his head by thick ropes stained dark red from hours of torment. One of his eyes was gone completely, leaving behind an empty hole where blood still trickled down his cheek. Several of his fingers had been chopped off and thrown carelessly across the room like bits of rubbish. His feet were hardly recognizable anymore, reduced to mashed flesh and shattered bones. Yet somehow, he still lived.
The iron door groaned open and heavy footsteps echoed through the chamber. Klen did not bother lifting his head. He already knew who it was. A familiar chuckle drifted through the darkness.
"My, my," Holwas said as his footsteps stopped directly before Klen. "You really are stubborn."
Klen stayed silent.
The old man crouched down and for several seconds nothing happened. Then Klen heard something wet being lifted from the floor. Curiosity finally made him glance upward with his remaining eye. Holwas was holding one of his severed fingers. The old man turned it between his own fingers, studying it from every angle as though examining a piece of fine jewelry. His face carried genuine fascination.
"You know," Holwas said softly, "most children scream far more than this." He turned the finger again.
"Not right away, of course. They always try to be brave at first." A smile spread across his face. "But eventually everyone breaks."
The finger disappeared into his pocket. Klen honestly did not know whether that was more disturbing than simply throwing it away. Holwas rose back to his feet before casually brushing invisible dust from his clothes. There was not a single mark on him despite everything that had happened inside this room.
"Do you know why I like arenas, Klen?" Holwas asked.
Silence answered him.
The old man continued anyway. "People always think it's about violence. Blood. Death. Entertainment." His smile widened. "How shallow."
Klen rolled his remaining eye. That alone seemed to amuse Holwas.
"No. The arena itself isn't important," Holwas said as he slowly began pacing through the chamber. "What interests me are people. Specifically, what they become once everything unnecessary has been stripped away."
He spread his arms. "Titles disappear." A step. "Wealth disappears." Another. "Pride disappears." Another. "Hope disappears." His smile grew wider. "And eventually all that remains is truth."
Klen spat blood onto the floor.
Holwas laughed. "Exactly why I like you." The old man approached again before leaning against the nearby wall. "Have you heard the crowd lately?"
Klen did not answer.
"Of course not. Shame," Holwas said with a dramatic sigh. "They're absolutely loving today's fight." The old man's eyes sparkled. "Especially him. The champion."
Klen frowned slightly.
Holwas noticed. "Ah. Right." The old man chuckled. "You've never actually met him." For some reason, that amused him greatly. "An unfortunate oversight."
Klen remained silent.
Holwas seemed content speaking alone. "The champion wasn't always the champion. Once upon a time, he was simply a frightened little boy." The old man smiled fondly. "A terribly ugly boy, admittedly." A laugh escaped him. "His family hated him." The smile remained. "They beat him." Still smiling. "They isolated him." Still smiling. "They burned half his face." The smile never disappeared.
Klen felt something cold crawl down his spine. Not because of the story. Because of how much Holwas was enjoying telling it.
"I found him after that. After he was discarded by his so-called family." Holwas said as he folded his hands behind his back. "He was angry. Hurt. Broken." His smile widened. "Perfect. For me."
Klen's jaw tightened.
Holwas noticed immediately. "Oh, don't look at me like that." The old man laughed. "I helped him." His voice sounded genuinely offended. "I listened." A step. "I guided him." Another. "I gave him purpose." The smile became almost proud. "And eventually I gave him a hope."
Silence filled the room. Holwas stared into the darkness for a moment. "He killed every single one of them using a knife. A knife that I gave him as a 'present'." There was no horror in his voice. No regret. Only satisfaction. The same satisfaction a craftsman might feel while admiring a finished masterpiece. "He became magnificent."
Klen stared at him. The old man smiled back. Then suddenly, without warning, Holwas's gaze shifted directly onto him. "And now he's getting old." The words settled heavily inside the chamber. "The audience still loves him." A pause. "But eventually his body will fail." Another. "Eventually they'll become bored." The smile returned. "And that simply won't do."
Something twisted inside Klen's stomach. The old man began walking toward him. Slowly. Casually. Like a hunter that already knew its prey could not escape.
"You understand, don't you?" Holwas asked as he crouched directly in front of Klen. "You were never meant to stay a prisoner." The smile widened. "You were never meant to stay a slave." A hand gently patted Klen's cheek. "You were meant to become my next champion."
Silence. The words echoed inside Klen's mind. For a moment, he genuinely thought he had misheard. Then Holwas laughed. The old man had seen the realization. He had been waiting for it.
"Now you understand," Holwas said. The smile never left his face. "Everything was preparation."
Klen stared at him. The beatings. The isolation. The torture. The arena. The fighting. Everything. The realization made him sick. Holwas was not trying to break him for punishment. Holwas was trying to reshape him. The same way he had reshaped someone else. The same way he had created a monster.
The old man's eyes sparkled with excitement. "I think you'll surpass him-No, I'm sure you'll be better than him."
Klen's jaw clenched hard. For the first time since entering the room, Holwas saw genuine hatred in his eye. And the old man looked delighted.
"Ah," Holwas said with a pleased sigh. "There it is." He slowly rose back to his feet and casually turned toward the exit. "Of course, if you continue resisting, I may need additional motivation."
Klen felt every muscle in his body tighten.
Holwas never looked back. "Perhaps the brown-haired girl." Silence. "Or the spear girl." The smile widened. "Or how about anyone and everyone close to you? I heard there was a 'blonde haired' girl when you were bought. How about her?"
Klen's eye widened. The reaction lasted less than a second. Less than a heartbeat. Yet Holwas caught it. Every bit of it. The old man's smile became monstrous.
"There you are," Holwas said.
Klen immediately realized his mistake. Too late. Holwas already knew. The old man reached the doorway before glancing over his shoulder one final time. "I do hope you'll make the correct decision." The iron door slowly opened. "Because if I have to motivate you, things may become unpleasant."
Then he left. The door slammed shut. And silence returned to the chamber.
The silence lasted for several minutes after Holwas left. Klen remained hanging against the wall, his head lowered as blood continued dripping from his body. The iron door remained shut. No footsteps echoed from outside. No voices reached him. The chamber felt emptier than before, as though Holwas had taken the last bit of warmth with him when he left.
He hated that old bastard. The realization was not new. It had been there for a while now. But for the first time, it was not buried beneath pain or exhaustion. It sat clearly in his mind. Sharp. Simple. Pure. If given the opportunity, Klen would gladly wrap his hands around Holwas's throat and squeeze until the old man stopped moving.
A weak laugh escaped him. The problem was that he could not even move his own damn fingers. Well. Most of them, anyway. His eye drifted toward the floor where several of those missing fingers still lay scattered around like discarded scraps. The sight would have been disturbing if he still had enough energy to care.
Then something shifted. The shadows within the chamber stretched unnaturally. At first Klen assumed his remaining eye was finally failing him. It would not exactly be surprising. He had lost enough blood to fill a small pond. Hallucinations would probably be the least concerning thing happening to him right now.
Unfortunately, the shadows continued moving. Darkness gathered near the center of the room. It flowed across the floor like black water before slowly rising upward. A shape formed. Then a body. A woman.
Klen stared at her for several seconds before immediately groaning. "Oh, for… fuck's sake."
The shadow tilted her head. Her form remained impossible to properly focus on. Every time his eye attempted to lock onto a detail, it seemed to shift and dissolve into darkness.
"You… look terrible," her voice echoed through the chamber, broken and distorted like words spoken inside a cavern.
Klen barked out a laugh that quickly turned into a cough. "Really…?" Blood dribbled from his mouth. "Like a *cough* ghost would… care or whatever… you are."
The shadow did not react. She simply stood there staring at him. Watching. Just like she always had.
Klen's smile faded. "Get… lost."
Silence. The shadow remained where she was.
Klen sighed. "I said… Get. Lost."
Still nothing. For a few moments, neither spoke. Then the shadow slowly began floating toward him.
"Your… Friends… Don't… Enough… Time… To… Live…" she said, her voice distorted and broken.
His eye narrowed slightly. The shadow noticed immediately. Of course she did.
"Interesting…," she said.
Klen clicked his tongue. "Don't mess… with me..."
The shadow tilted her head again and looked as if she said something strange.
"I'm sick… of this whole cat… and mouse… play, *cough* got it..?" Klen said.
The room fell silent. The shadow continued staring at him. Then her voice echoed once more. "The blonde… worries." Klen's jaw tightened. "Not... Enough… Time… Left… For… Her" His expression darkened. "I… Sense… You… Not… Like… Her… Death."
"Shut up," Klen said instantly.
The shadow paused.
Klen glared at her. "Stop… pretending." The shadow remained motionless. "You don't… care about *cough* them." Silence. "W-Why the hell would… you care…?" Still silence.
Klen laughed bitterly. "I've been at this… shit *cough* for a long time now… Every time… every, single time… you appear, it's bad news. *cough*" His eye narrowed further. "So don't stand there… acting concerned. It doesn't suit you."
The shadow stared at him. Unmoving. Unblinking. "I… Simply… Can't… See… Sad."
Everything stopped. The chamber. The conversation. Even Klen's breathing. His eye snapped upward. "What?" The shadow said nothing. "What did… you just say… to me?" She continued watching him patiently. Like a spider watching something struggle in its web.
"Arena…," the shadow said. A pause. "Champion…" Another pause. "Old man..." Then finally: "Perish they will!" Her voice became even more distorted before settling back.
Klen clenched his teeth. "W-What the hell *cough* are you even talking about anymore?" The question came out harsher than intended.
The shadow's head tilted slightly. "Jealous..."
"What...?" Klen asked.
Klen stared at her. For several seconds he genuinely could not tell if she was joking. Then he remembered who he was talking to. "No," he said, his voice becoming colder. "Answer the question."
The shadow remained silent. Then finally shook her head. "You're still… not mine..."
The answer should have relieved him. Instead, it only made him more irritated. "Then why the heck are you here?"
The came another step forward. "Because… you are dying." Her words start to get a bit clearer as she starts to speak a bit more properly.
Klen laughed a tired, exhausted, completely done laugh. "No shit."
"And because…," the shadow said, her voice almost forming a proper sentence for the first time, "I do not want that."
The chamber became quiet. Klen stared at her. The shadow stared back. Then he groaned. "The hell…? Make your damn mind… already. Stop playing around… and get to the point!"
The shadow ignored the comment. "They will… die." Silence. "You… will die." More silence. "And when that happens… I shall kill everything."
There it was. Finally. The truth. For several moments, neither spoke. Then Klen slowly lowered his head. His body hurt. His eye hurt. His thoughts hurt. Everything hurt.
The shadow's voice echoed softly through the chamber. "You'll agree."
Klen immediately laughed. "Agree..? To what exactly?"
"To my deal," she said, her voice seemingly getting more human. Klen didn't notice her voice getting more natural and getting devoid of any distortion and echo as he was too tired to care.
The confidence in her voice irritated him more than it should have. He looked up. "What do you want..?"
The shadow answered instantly. "Permission."
The word caught him off guard. "Permission…? For what..? To kill..?" Klen asked.
She nodded. "Let me… help."
Klen's expression hardened. "No," he said immediately.
The shadow was not surprised.
"No," Klen repeated. "Absolutely not. Why would you help me in the first place? I didn't… do anything to earn your damn… favor."
The shadow remained silent. Then she spoke again. "What do… you want? I can give anything and everything… just for you." Her voice now fully human and her body details start getting clearer as well.
Klen did not answer immediately. Instead, he stared at her. He was finally feeling creeped out. "The fuck?" He said, staring at her face. He could finally see her pale, smooth skin glowing in the dim room.
He kept quiet for a moment. A long moment. The shadow was getting more clearer and was looking at him quietly, expecting him to continue.
Finally, he spoke. "If I do this," he said. The shadow listened. "If I let you help me," he continued. Silence. "Let me be…" The chamber grew still. "I want you to leave." The shadow did not respond. "I want you gone." Still nothing. The silence stretched longer this time. Klen kept going. "No more haunting me. Or my family."
For the first time since appearing, the shadow hesitated. It was subtle. Almost impossible to notice. But it was there. And Klen saw it. He let her feel uncomfortable for once. Then he delivered the final condition. "And we're stopping that bastard..." The hatred in his voice surprised even him.
The shadow did not hesitate. Not this time. "Agreed," she said.
Klen blinked. "That fast?"
The shadow tilted her head. "He hurt you. I wouldn't have cared if it was anyone else. But he hurt you. A sin I cannot forgive. I'll kill him." Her voice getting a dark tone to it.
For the first time in hours, Klen genuinely laughed. A real laugh. Short. Sharp. Dangerous. His eye met hers. "Then let's go..."
The shadow slowly approached him. The darkness surrounding her began spreading across the floor. "Close your eye," she said.
Klen frowned. "Why?"
The shadow's voice echoed softly. "To help you. It's not something worth looking. Because if you keep looking, you may change your mind."
Klen stared at her for several seconds. Then sighed. "Fine..." And slowly closed his remaining eye.
The moment Klen closed his eye, he regretted it. Pain exploded throughout his entire body. Not the familiar pain of broken bones. Not the pain of torture. Not the pain Holwas had inflicted upon him. This was something else. It felt as though molten metal had been poured directly into his veins.
Klen's body convulsed violently against the restraints. A scream tore itself from his throat before he could stop it. Every muscle seized. Every nerve ignited. His chest heaved as something foreign forced its way through him.
The darkness surrounding the Shadow surged forward. For a brief moment, Klen felt her hands against his face. Then she disappeared. Not physically. Completely. The darkness entered him.
The sensation made his stomach turn. It was not violent. That would have been easier. Instead, it felt intimate. Wrong. Like something that had no right to be there was settling into a place it had wanted for a very long time. The pain intensified.
The ropes binding his wrists suddenly snapped. One after another. Klen collapsed forward. Before he could hit the floor, another wave of agony ripped through him. He looked down. And froze. The severed fingers scattered across the chamber dissolved into black mist. The mist rushed toward him. Then attached itself to his hand.
Klen stared in horror as flesh began growing. Bones reformed. Muscles stitched themselves together. Skin crawled across exposed tissue. His missing fingers regenerated before his eyes.
"What the-?!" Klen screamed.
The words barely escaped his mouth before another surge hit him. His crushed feet cracked loudly. Bones shifted. Straightened. Rebuilt themselves. Torn flesh closed. Bruises vanished. The ruined remains of his legs restored themselves piece by piece until they looked as though they had never been injured.
Klen collapsed onto his side. Sweat poured from his body. His heart felt ready to burst from his chest. Then came the eye. The empty socket burned. Pain shot directly into his skull. Klen grabbed his face and screamed. Something moved inside the ruined cavity. Then vision returned. His missing eye opened. The chamber immediately came back into focus. Both eyes. He could see with both eyes.
For several moments he simply lay there breathing heavily while staring at the ceiling. The pain slowly faded. His body no longer felt broken. No. His body felt whole. For the first time in days.
Slowly, Klen pushed himself upright. His hands trembled. His fingers moved. All of them. He stared at them. Turned them over. Flexed them. Opened and closed his fists repeatedly. Then immediately checked the rest of himself. His feet. His legs. His chest. Everything. Nothing hurt. Not a single injury remained.
The realization left him speechless. "What..." His voice sounded distant. "What the hell...?"
Then he noticed something else. The blood was gone. The dirt was gone. The smell was gone. Even the dried filth coating his skin had disappeared. Klen looked down. And immediately froze. He was no longer wearing the tattered shorts Holwas had left him with.
Instead, black pants covered his legs. Black boots rested on his feet. A white shirt sat beneath a long dark coat that hung from his shoulders. White gloves covered his hands while a black tie rested neatly against his chest. For several seconds, Klen simply stared. Then looked down again. Then looked up. Then down. Then up.
"Where the fuck did these come from?" Klen asked.
A familiar voice echoed inside his head. "I gave them to you. Rags didn't suit you."
Klen nearly jumped out of his own skin. "What the hell?!" His head immediately snapped around the chamber. Nobody was there.
The voice sighed. "Inside your mind."
Klen froze. The realization slowly dawned on him. "Oh." A pause. "Oh no."
The voice sounded almost offended. "What is it?"
Klen rubbed his forehead. "You are inside my head."
"Not the first time." the voice said.
"You are actually inside my head," Klen repeated, ignoring her.
"Yes," the voice said again.
Klen groaned loudly. "Great." The voice remained silent. "Just what I needed."
"You agreed," the voice said.
"To get help. Not a ghost or whatever you are inside my head talking to me!" Klen argued.
"Still agreed," the voice countered.
Klen wanted to argue. Unfortunately, she was not wrong. That only made it worse. His attention shifted when something metallic bumped against his side. He looked down. Two weapons rested there.
One was a longsword. The other looked significantly shorter. Elegant. Deadly. Both hung from his waist as though they belonged there. Klen slowly drew the longsword halfway from its sheath. Steel reflected the dim torchlight. His reflection stared back. Clean. Whole. Alive. The sight genuinely shocked him. The sword slid back into place. Silence followed.
Then Klen finally asked the obvious question. "What… happened to me?"
The answer came immediately. "Magic."
Klen blinked. "What?"
"Magic," the voice repeated.
The word echoed through his mind. Klen stared at the wall. Then at his hand. Then at the sword. Then at the coat. Then at the wall again. "You're telling me this is magic?" he asked.
The voice remained quiet for a moment. "Yes."
Klen laughed. Not because it was funny. Because he genuinely did not know what else to do. All this time. All those stories. All those trainings. All the time, he simply thought of magic as nothing but a fire coming out by focusing. And apparently the first time he experienced it was after being tortured half to death by a psychopath. "Unbelievable…" he said.
The voice sounded pleased. "Nothing to be vary of."
"No," Klen said as he shook his head. "I mean this entire situation."
The voice remained silent. Klen took a deep breath. Then another. Eventually, he stood. His legs held. No pain. No weakness. No trembling. Just strength. Real strength. The sensation almost felt foreign.
The voice immediately spoke. "Hurry."
Klen smirked. "I know."
"Hurry," the voice repeated.
"You know, on second thought. I'll do it on my own." Klen said.
"Hurry," the voice insisted.
Klen's grin widened. "You're getting on my nerves."
The voice did not answer. Instead, he felt impatience radiating through his thoughts. Oddly enough, it almost made him laugh. For the first time in what felt like forever, he walked toward the chamber door under his own power. Each step felt lighter. Each breath easier. Each heartbeat stronger. By the time he reached the exit, the smirk had become something darker. Something dangerous. Holwas wanted a monster. The old bastard had spent weeks trying to create one. The thought almost made Klen laugh.
"That old bastard is dead," Klen said.
Inside his head, the Shadow's voice echoed softly. "Agreed."