บท 17: A Sense of Hope

"Wake up, child."

Flo arose to an olden yet wise voice rousing him from his deep slumber. He felt surprised, being able to hear the call of the voice. He then turned left and right, looking for the source of it.

His eyes landed on a figure standing to his left -a human with aged features. Flo flinched in surprise then dashed back on instinct, readying himself as he stared back at the human-like figure -except that, it wasn't exactly a human.

His unkempt gray hair danced lazily around his head, with his gray beard hanging from his jawline -twisting to form a braid as it then reached his scarred bare chest. He wore a worn-out pair of shorts, with shackles clinging unto his wrists and ankles.

It was weird enough that this stranger had appeared out from nothingness, but as Flo took a closer look, it all became outright weird. He was translucent -transparent and gleaming white.

"What are you?" Flo asked, although not a sound escaped from his mouth. The old spirit apparently heard it though, as it then leaned closer to Flo. "It's me, child." He said. "Your benefactor."

Flo had a mixed feeling of confusion and anxiety, although a hint of familiarity was hidden in the figure's voice. "Who?"

"The one who passed you the blessing of the Primordial."

Flo then gaped in awe as he finally understood who this ghost was. He was the one he killed back in the arena, who had given him some power of sort. "Those black knights... were they yours?"

The old man then plunged to crouch in front of Flo, saying something Flo didn't hear, but directly understood in his head -like a manner of telepathy. "I'm dead, child." The old man said. "Those were yours."

"Then how come-"

"I'm here?" The man interjected. "It's to get you out of this cursed prison."

Flo felt something within himself reviving, like a rekindled hope that was about to grow cold. He felt hope, something that he longed for all this time. He felt his heart race, his eyes widen, and his fingers itching. He was finally getting out.

"But child," The old man said. "It's a huge gamble."

"I don't care." Flo said, although all he heard was his thoughts rushing inside his head filling him with hope.

"Well then," The man rose to stand, gesturing for Flo to follow. "Let's get back your senses first."

Flo was inside an expanse of absolute nothingness. Everything was pitch black with nothing to compensate for it, except for a faint, very thin filament of white light stretching endlessly to the black horizons.

"That is the embodiment of your sense of sight, child." Flo heard the old man's voice inside his head, apparently talking about the thin string of light.

"This is what enables you to reforge the bond between your body and soul."

"What does that mean, exactly?"

"It means that your body is not with you, boy." The old man said. "While you're still here, your body may be lying unconscious somewhere out there."

"But why-"

"Focus child." The old man interjected. "It's better for you to understand it for yourself once you get back."

Flo, feeling massively overwhelmed, still managed to shove his anxiety and questions aside as he gave his best at the task at hand.

He was to thicken the filament of light.

"Feel the current of the magos inside, then will it to grow stronger."

Flo stared at the string of light flickering dimly, like a lantern about to exhaust its fuel. If the string of light would by chance finally burn out its light, what would happen then? Flo was scared to find out. Merely the thought sent shivers down Flo's spine, although he couldn't feel it.

Focus.

He pictured a current, a small stream of water to be precise, flowing down a narrow creek as he then tried to will it to grow into a profound river with massive currents.

It didn't work.

"It's hard." Flo thought, but he kept holding on.

After hours and hours of endless concentration and mindless meditation -if Flo wasn't mistaken, he saw the string of light pulse and grow. It expanded in size and number as a few more strands of light appeared out of nowhere, clumping together with the first to create a thicker limb of light.

Flo then felt an abrupt cold -just a minor breeze, brushing up against his dark skin.

He felt the sense of touch.

Flo then opened his eyes as he happened to pinch himself, feeling the strong sensation of pain overwhelming him. Flo never had been so happy to feel something so painful. It was like he was baptized in fresh, clean water, feeling like a newborn embraced in his mother's arms.

He was overjoyed, but he couldn't let the feeling get the better of him. There were still three senses to go, and it was still no easy task.

Creak.

The sound of wood and metal creaking jarred Flo's ears, with the murmur of the still waters splashing against the hull resonating inside Flo's head, filling him with euphoria.

He gained back his sense of hearing.

Flo then gave a shy yelp at first, however transitioned to a full-on howl to the top of his lungs, yet again happy for his accomplishment.

Then, after another, came the sense of smell, with Flo sniffing the life out of everything within reach.

And lastly came the sense of taste.

Flo never had been so happy nor delighted in his entire lifetime. Nothing, absolutely nothing compared to the feeling of experiencing the world again. Not freedom nor the quell for adventure could ever compare to gaining back his senses.

He made all kinds of weird noises, he touched the floorboards, he sniffed the rust of the engine, he even tasted the metal screws just to be sure licking the hell out of it.

He felt like a living being again.

"Now, child." The old man said, perching his right on top of Flo's shoulder. "Here comes the main event."