A boy was confined in a cage, his hands and feet tightly bound in chains, being transported to the great colosseum that lay not far ahead.
As the cage door swung open, a man dragged the boy out onto the field, abandoning him among over a hundred other children without a word of explanation.
The roaring cheers of fifty thousand spectators reverberated throughout the arena when, without any prior warning, the massive gates suddenly burst open. Every child jolted in startled terror as the cheers grew to a deafening crescendo—and in that moment, the wyvern opened its gaping maw, unleashing a torrent of fire that swept across a section of the field, engulfing a group of children in the inferno.
One after another, they fell like leaves dropping from a branch. The boy stood rigid, his heart trembling more violently than a war drum as the beast's hot breath washed over him. Its eyes pierced through to his very soul, and its gaping maw revealed a slowly burning orange flame. But instead of unleashing it upon him as it had with the others, the wyvern turned and sprayed its fire upon another child. In the end, the boy became the last one remaining in the arena. After a long moment of locking eyes with the wyvern, the creature simply turned and retreated through the gate, leaving him alone in the silence.
As death retreated unexpectedly, the boy collapsed onto the ground, his consciousness slipping away the very moment his body registered the reprieve from danger.
The passage of seven years had transformed the boy into a young man, yet the institution of slavery within the colosseum remained, stubbornly and cruelly, unchanged.
"Defy with pride, no fear to show,
Die with honor, against the foe.
Succeed in the task, make your stand,
And earn your freedom, across the land."
The promise was a lie. The young man knew it, for he had never seen a single soul granted the freedom the slavemaster so grandly proclaimed.
And so, the youth did the opposite. He deliberately made himself weak, made his performance appear wretched, made himself an object of contempt—all while carefully ensuring he never fell so low as to be deemed worthless and executed.
"You're garbage. Feeding you is a waste of food."
The slavemaster spoke with utter contempt.
The following day, the young man was sold to another man. He cared not who it was, for he saw only an opportunity to escape.
While en route to his new owner, he seized the moment and threw himself from the wagon. The soldiers tasked with preventing escape pursued him doggedly. His heart hammered like a battle drum, driven not by terror, but by a surge of wild excitement.
He fled until his path ended at a cliff's edge. Turning back, he found the soldiers closing in, their spears held ready to strike.
"If you keep resisting, we'll consider you have a death wish."
A soldier stated firmly.
With a final smile directed at his pursuers, the youth stepped off the precipice. Survival was uncertain, but it was a risk worth taking—a far better alternative than an existence as a mere object owned by another.
His mind could not grasp what had occurred. He knew only that when he opened his eyes, he found himself adrift, washed ashore in an unknown place.
The cries of seagulls circled above, the rhythm of waves lapped at the shore, and the wind whispered through the treetops. As his gaze sharpened, it fell upon a small cottage standing before him.
"Not this again!"
The old man shook his head at the sight of the young man, whose hands and feet were bound in chains.
"What do you mean, 'again'?"
The young man asked.
"Then why even ask?"
Remarked the old man, as his eyes scrutinized the young man in detail.
"Can you remove these chains for me?"
The young man asked, confident that the old man before him was not evil like those he had encountered before.
The old man chuckled slightly before replying.
"Just because I didn't shout 'Stay back, you filthy wretch!'"
He shook his head from side to side in mockery.
"Or run away, doesn't automatically make me a good person, you know?"
"But you don't seem like a bad person,"
The young man replied.
The old man sighed, then pointed at the coconut tree.
"If you can find a way to get those coconuts down, I'll remove your chains."
Hearing this promise, the young man didn't hesitate. He dashed straight to the tree, ramming into it with such force that coconuts rained down effortlessly.
The old man's jaw dropped. When the youth turned back, he quickly hid his astonished expression, cleared his throat, and held up two fingers.
"I wasn't finished talking. I wanted two coconuts."
The old man's request was utterly nonsensical, because...
"But there are five coconuts that fell, sir,"
The young man replied.
Seeing this, the old man laughed to hide his embarrassment.
"What about your promise?"
At the young man's reminder, the old man's expression instantly turned solemn.
The elder approached the youth directly, using his bare hands to break the shackles on the boy's wrists with ease.
The old man's actions shocked the young man. He never expected this frail-looking elder to possess such superhuman strength.
The old man smiled slightly before saying,
"I've removed all your chains. Will you leave this place, or stay to learn about my power?"
Seeing the opportunity, the young man seized it without hesitation.
"You will teach me, right?"
"You must obey my every command. That is the condition for becoming my disciple,"
The old man replied in a serious tone.
Before the sun had fully risen above the horizon, the newly awakened old man was surprised to find the young man already up before him.
The young man sat in meditation, his eyes open, and became aware the moment the old man awoke.
"Everyday before sunrise, you must come help me catch fish,"
The old man said before walking to the boat moored by the shore.
Their small boat rested on the emerald-green sea. The young man watched with wide-eyed wonder as the old man prepared to cast his fishing net into the depths.
Countless fish were caught in the net, a task as effortless as peeling a banana. There had been no real need for the young man to accompany him from the start.
The old man, observing the young man's expression, immediately knew what he was thinking. A smile touched his lips as he spoke.
"Let's call it a day for your first time. You'll get your hands dirty soon enough."
Some of the caught fish were cooked for their meal, while the rest the old man took to sell in the town.
"Are you going to teach me or not?"
The young man asked after waiting half a day for the old man's return from town.
No sooner had the young man finished his question than the old man flicked his forehead.
What happened?
The young man wondered to himself as his entire body trembled, feeling something flowing from his forehead down to the tips of his toes.
"In this world, there exists what we call the Three Great Powers,"
The old man declared, releasing an aura from his right hand that left the youth staring in stunned silence.
That explains why some human have super powers.
The young man understood perfectly, his eyes widening as he finally received the answer to a question he had carried for so long.
"A pity, but I can only use one of the powers,"
The old man said, a hint of sorrow in his eyes before he smiled at the youth.
"You probably don't like the name they gave you. In that case, I'll call you Titus,"
The old man said with a smile. The young man smiled back, immediately accepting the name.