"Well done, champion".
Haggar sauntered towards the human, examining his wounds. Two drones stood by his side, supporting the man's worn body while ensuring he would not escape.
"Now tell me, has your bloodthirst been sufficiently quenched? I'm been vastly curious to know ever since your little 'outburst'".
The champion lowered his head, silently gazing down. The sorceress extended a sharp finger, gently lifting his chin to face her.
"Well?"
The man remained quiet, glaring back with an intense loathing. Haggar didn't mind. In time, he would come to thank her. Every victor had, eventually. And why wouldn't they? This arena, with a bit of aid from her magic, bestowed them with immense strength. Who wouldn't find satisfaction with such power?
"Nothing to say, hm? Well, I suppose that doesn't matter."
She signaled promptly towards the drones.
"He has proven himself worthy of further notice. Place him in the higher ranking quarters closest to the Druid laboratory. The champion will be of great use to the galra empire. I shall make sure of that".
Haggar watched as the man was lead away. There was something about him that spiked her interest. As far as she knew, humans were virtually defenseless beings. They had no claws, no fangs, nor any natural means of defense in the slightest. No, the Champion could not have survived by brute strength alone. He was an intelligent creature; relaying heavily on intuition and wit. She had never encountered such a specimen before. Nor had she ever grown so fond of a gladiator fighter.
Finally, after several long hours, Haggar gave in to her urge meet with the man again. She navigated the maze-like halls, her dark robe flowing behind her like ragged curtains. Finally, she arrived at his cell. The human was facing the wall, curled up on a cot within the sleeping chamber.
"Are you awake, champion?" She asked.
He jolted upwards, immediately groaning and clutching his sides in pain.
"What do you want?" The man demanded.
"I've come to replenish you". Haggar replied gruffly, opening the cell door. "Follow me...and don't be difficult. I'm doing you a favor".
The champion trailed behind, limping noticeably. His hands were bound and his slave clothing was torn to shreds. The witch decided he wouldn't have lasted long in the arena if he was kept in his current condition.
At the end of the hall stood a large doorway. In the middle of the room was a pool filled with a glowing yellow liquid. Haggar turned to face the man. She removed the mechanical cuffs, knowing retaliation was impossible with his injuries.
"I need you to disrobe yourself".
"Wha-what?! Why? What more do you want from me?!" the champion exclaimed, flashing a look of exasperation.
The champion's face began to turn red. Apparently humans could change their color. His mouth opened to speak, but no words escaped. Exhaling nervously, the man struggled to undress without hitting a sore spot or stumbling altogether. He avoided the witch's gaze, trying to cover himself. Haggar gestured towards the golden pool.
"Go on".
The human approached the unidentified liquid, carefully testing it with his foot. He seemed surprised to find that it was not acid or some other destructive substance. He ventured in further with caution. The champion was quiet for a moment.
"What is this?" He asked hoarsely.
"Quintessence. Pure, unrefined, quintessence" Haggar explained, beaming with pride. "It will make you stronger. But it will not instantaneously heal your cuts and sprains. For that, I have something else in mind".
The witch grinned, flashing her razor sharp teeth. She kneeled beside him, frowning as he inched away from her. Extending her arms, she placed both of her claws on his bloody back.
"Wait-!" He cried out, flinching at her touch. Gradually, the witch's hands began to glow. The man grunted softly, the agony in his expression fading. The sorceress massaged his shoulders, numbing and sealing the gashes that covered them. She rubbed the sides of his neck, soothing his aching bruises. The champion sighed, melting into the sweet sensation. Haggar ran her fingers across his scalp and through the small tuft of hair that protruded from it.
"Is that better?" She inquired, her rough voice lowering to a soft purr.
"Why...why are you helping me?" The man murmured, avoiding her question.
"Because" Haggar explained. "I want you to succeed in battle. You're too promising of a warrior to let go to waste".
The champion was silent. The sorceress continued to, quite literally, work her magic. As soon as all of his wounds were sealed, she ceased to rub.
"There. That should do it. I'm afraid there's nothing I can do about the scar tissue, but you are otherwise completely healed" Haggar concluded, pleased with the outcome of her tireless efforts. "Now, you should get to rest. You have a long day of fighting ahead of you tomorrow".
The man didn't reply, golden droplets trickling down his body as he rose from the pool. Begrudgingly, he put on the torn rags that replaced his former attire. Haggar tread alongside him, escorting the champion to his sleeping chamber.
"You're being quiet" the witch commented.
The man proceeded to confirm her observation. Without a word, he laid back down on the cot, turning on his side to face the wall.
"My name is Takashi Shirogane, not 'Champion'. And If you really wanted to help me, you would have let me go home" the man said in a cold, broken voice.
This sudden burst of defiance caught Haggar by surprise. But it was nothing she couldn't handle. As intelligent as he was, the champion was still a naive creature from a naive planet. He simply did not yet understand the greatness that comes with power. Somehow, she would convince him to embrace the title 'champion'. He had earned it himself, after all. But, in order to change his mind, she had to first earn his trust.
"Goodnight, Takashi" the witch crooned, closing the giant metal cell door. "We shall meet again".