~ ("Who's this?") ~

~ ("Don't know. Found him by the river") ~

~ ("Let's take him anyway. Extra mora for extra bodies") ~

Strange words were being ushered as his blurry vision picked out two figures dragging his carcass through the mud. The ordeal had taken a considerable toll on his body and he lacked the strength to resist for the moment. Once again, his eyes gave out and there was darkness once more.

The moment he opened his eyes once again, Gray found himself being dragged through some sort of dungeon; the type used to keep criminals and other undesirables as prisoners. Looking around with his eyes, he found all sorts of strange and eccentric individuals looking at him through their cells, ranting all sorts of undecipherable words.

The people who were dragging him along stopped at one of the cells and spoke some sort of foreign language, whereby another person opened the door to the cell and he was promptly tossed. With a few more words that needed no translation thanks to the spitefulness of the tone, the ruffians left him to his own devices with loose chains cuffed around his hands and feet. Weakly dragging himself to the walls, Gray could hear the hushed whispers of his cellmates, whose words he could not comprehend nor did he care enough. With a pained moan, he pulled himself up and rested next to a wall as the rest of the prisoners looked at him with curious eyes.

It was a damp, dark, and cold place. Droplets of water emerged from the ceiling and crashed into his chest, sending forth a painful sensation, to both the body and mind. It was at that moment that Gray realized that something was amiss once he touched his chest. His dreary eyes awakened and his face began to panic as he frantically searched for the necklace. Eventually, he set his eyes on his cellmates, who looked at him with stupefied faces.

"You" he pointed towards one of them, "Did you take it? Give it back here." Using the full extent of his strength, Gray hobbled over to one of the men while the rest retreated with frightened looks. Grabbing the man by the collar, he demanded once again, "I said give it back!"

~ ("I don't know what you're saying!") ~

The man yelled out indecipherable gibberish as he shook his head and seemed to be on the verge of tears. "I don't understand, what are you saying? Speak clearly!" Gray demanded again, slamming him against the wall.

~ ("Please don't hurt me!") ~

He may not know what the man was saying, but his expressions told him all he needed to as a strong sense of guilt came over Gray which compelled him to release the man from his grip. Another occupant of the cell, one who had been watching silently from a corner eventually intervened and got between Gray and the man and pushed him back, letting him fall on his tailbone.

~("Enough") ~

Gray could guess that the larger man was playing peacemaker and wanted him to keep his distance. From the way he dressed, it seemed like he came from a more arid climate, with nothing much to cover his chest and torso aside from a scarf, a strap fashion across his right shoulder, two gauntlets, a red sash around his waist, baggy pants, sandals, a bandana across his head and strangely enough, a piece of cloth that was draped across where his eyes should be. Was he blind? It seemed unlikely since he seemed to be able to see him clearly. Regardless of the matter, Gray silently scuffled back into his corner of the cell and huddled with his knees close to his chest while the burly man returned to his as the other prisoners returned to their side as well.

Where he ended up, he did not know nor did he even care at this point.

After what seemed like several hours, the guards eventually returned and opened the gates. Gray couldn't make out what they were saying but based on their expressions and the responses of the other prisoners, they were barking orders at them to get up. He was physically pulled up and had his cuffs connected to an interlinking chain as he and the other prisoners were pushed out of their cells and toward an unknown destination.

As he marched alongside the other prisoners, he had a better look at who his jailers were and what kind of place it was. Their attire was reminiscent of the man who had pushed him back and were armed with all manner of strange weaponry. Taking them through a long tunnel, they eventually reached a large gate wherein each prison was freed from its shackle, forcibly handed a weapon, and pushed outside. Once it was Gray's turn, one of them picked out a sword and shoved it toward Gray before throwing him outside, where he joined in with the rest of the prisoners over what looked like some sort of underground arena.

The large man who had interacted with him before was the last to step foot with an elongated spear in hand while the rest of the captives looked around with terrified faces as they began murmuring all sorts of things to each other. What was most strange about this arena was the fact that the audience members weren't as loud or as rowdy as they should be; rather, they were eerily quiet and composed, with the loudest sounds being a few babblings here and there. They were all well dressed and impeccably detailed in their accessories and all of them wore some sort of mask to cover the top part of their faces.

At the top of a balcony, overlooking the entire arena, a figure stood at the edge and extended his arms wide open as the audience remained quiet. The man wore a distant white coat with a blue collar and bore a short mustache. ~ ("Ladies and gentlemen") ~ the man announced to a sound of clapping, ~ ("Tonight, we bring you the opening to our grand show. Witness our new batch of contenders, criminals, exiles, the damned and the unwanted. They will have a chance to prove their worth in the arena tonight or die forgotten.") ~

The crowd jeered at the prisoners as they rose to their feet. Gray couldn't make heads or tails about their language, but he had enough sense to realize that they were about to fight.

~ ("But what, you might ask, shall test their worth? Why, this of course") ~ the man lowered his hand as another gate creaked open while the onlookers craned over to see a draconic creature emerge from the shadows, towering over them, ~ ("Captured from the mountains of Liyue itself, I give to you, Geovishap!") ~

The crowd roared into applause while the terrified prisoners gripped their weapons tightly, ready to do whatever it took to survive. But what Gray desired most at that moment, was the complete opposite as he raised his sword hand and dropped the weapon, leaving himself empty-handed.

~ ("Hey, what are you doing!?") ~

~ ("Do you wanna die?") ~

~ ("Forget him, focus on that thing") ~

His actions drew a look of confusion and bemusement from both his fellow cellmates and the members of the audience. The host himself noted this act with a chuckle, "So this one has already lost the will to live."

The monster charged at them with unabashed fury, while the prisoners responded with desperate war cries of their own, for what little good it did as it tossed and crushed most of them, while others were getting mauled. Gray stood still amidst the carnage with his eyes closed, ignoring the cries and human screams as the vishap dismantled them, awaiting his turn to be its next victim.

As if his prayers had been answered, the beast took notice of him and gored him to the nearby wall, thoroughly mauling at him. But at no point, did he ever make an attempt to fight back, for the reason to fight had seemingly been gone from him. Those deaths, the destruction of his home and everything he had ever known by those beings, and the mere fact that the last face of Juvia was that of silence. There was nothing left for him anymore, so he had consigned himself to his fate in the hopes of ending this pain. "Juvia, Natsu, Erza, Lucy…. everyone, I'll see you soon"

But even before the life within him could even begin to fade away, a sonorous roar erupted from behind as the burly warrior leaped in the air and plunged his spear into the creature's body, letting it scream out in pain as it released its grip on Gray. Noticing the change, Gray looked up to see that man on the back of the creature, holding it back.

~ ("Don't just stand there, fight back!") ~

The man yelled, likely words of encouragement or aid, it didn't matter. Or perhaps it did. As Gray watched the warrior struggle against the creature, something within him began to stir. His heart pounded harder and harder, and his breathing became heavier as memories of the past bombarded his mind: memories of battles long gone, of friends and family no longer with him, but most importantly, memories of her…of Ur.

"Don't give up Gray"

Raising his trembling him, Gray's eyes widened as he began hyperventilating until he closed them and gritted his teeth. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh" he screamed at the top of his lungs, summoned a sword made of ice, and lunged at the creature, stabbing his blade through its skull, causing its' pupils to widen and then contract as ice to form around its skull causing it to fall and lie completely still with the warrior falling along with it and nearly getting crushed by its weight.

The entire crowd as well as the surviving prisoners were overcome with silence as they looked on with their jaws dropped over what they had just witnessed. The host took notice of this turn of events and quickly rushed to the balcony. ~ ("*Ahem* Well, ladies and gentlemen. It would seem that fate itself has deemed it fit to play a cruel joke on our man. The one who sought death has been given a chance at life instead. The herd has been thinned, the weak have been culled, the fat has been trimmed and now we have our new contenders. How will they fare in the battles to come ahead? We shall find out!") ~

As the audience rose to shower praise on the fighters, and Gray in particular. The warrior, meanwhile, struggled to push through the heavy corpse of the vishap, which had fallen on top of him. After much struggle, he managed to free himself as he stood up and looked over to the strange boy, who remained motionless once more as the light in his eyes had seemingly begun to fade away. The man sighed at the strangeness of his savior.

Within the auditorium where members of the audience resided, a man returned to his seat, placed a hand on his chin, and pondered deeply on what had just happened. Clearly, one of these prisoners showed greater promise than the others. "This could be a golden opportunity. I wonder if the Lord Harbingers will be interested in him? Still, might need more time to test him first."

Back in the cells, the atmosphere had changed, especially in how Gray was viewed. The surviving prisoners huddled together and began discussing their savior in hushed whispers. Many were still fearful and suspicious of him, but at the same time ever grateful for saving their lives.

~ ("He used the power of cryo but he doesn't have a vision") ~

~ ("Do you think he's using some kind of new magic or perhaps a spirit?") ~

~ ("I thought about talking to him but he looks like he doesn't want to") ~

Amidst all this talk, the warrior rose from his seat and walked over to Gray, who was resting in his usual spot with his knees huddled to his chest, scraping on the plate where his food was provided. Standing over Gray, he looked down on the younger man in silence, unsure of how to start the conversation.

"What do you want?" Gray glared up at him and asked with an irritated tone, no doubt irritated from all those incessant whispers that he had to deal with.

The warrior himself could not understand what Gray was saying, but he took a deep breath and collected his thoughts before speaking, ~ ("What you did back there was admirable") ~ he stated.

Grays' response was to tilt his head and squint his eyes in confusion. "You know I don't understand what the heck you're saying, right?"

Given the obvious obstacle in the differences between their spoken tongues, the warrior stared at the ceiling and sighed, thinking deeply about the matter. It took him a while but he eventually came up with a solution: he took out a loaf of rolled bread from his plate, tore it in half, and handed one of them to Gray's plate, who stared at the plate and then looked at him, puzzled.

"Pita" he stated, pointing his finger at the bread.

Gray looked at the bread before reverting his gaze back to the warrior. At first, he was unsure of what the stranger was trying to convey as he stood still and stared at him; it was difficult to discern his expression because of the cloth that covered his face and there was hardly ever a single smile escaping his lips. But as he gave it a second thought, the answer slowly came over to his mind. "Pi…ta?" Gray repeated.

"Pita" the man nodded, pointing at the half-torn bread again.

Gray picked up the bread in response and looked at the man once more, "Pita.

The man grunted in approval as he lowered himself and squatted in front of Gray. He hesitated for a bit before pointing at himself, tapping at his own chest "Tazim."

Taking his cue, Gray pointed at the man as well, "Ta…zim?"

"Tazim" the warrior, now noted to be Tazim, repeated in approval.

Realizing what the man was trying to do, Gray mimicked his approach and pointed at himself. "Gray," he said, before restating his name more concisely, "Gr…ray."

"Gr..ray?" Tazim asked.

"Yup," Gray approved. "Tazim, Gray, Gray, Tazim" he repeated what had been spoken by swaying his finger back and forth between each other.

Their conversation did not go unnoticed as the other prisoners began looking at them without an almost childlike and wonderous curiosity. This was the first attempt at striking up a conversation with the mysterious young man who spoke a foreign language. It didn't take long for the others to join in.

Time went by relatively faster than Gray had expected, although, one's sense of time would be diluted when living in a dark dungeon. Days turned to weeks and weeks turned to a month until three months had passed. By that point, Gray had mastered the language well enough that he could converse with his cellmates, albeit with some difficulty. Based on what they had told him, he was in a world called Teyvat; a place ruled by seven nations under the patronage of seven gods, known as archons.

"So, what's your story? You're obviously not from around here" Tazim inquired, picking up and tossing small stones to pass the time. He was stern, if tactful, and well versed in the art of being taciturn, which was mostly all the time and it only made it even more surprising that he was the first person to open up to Gray and teach him the language. The few times he did open up, Gray learned a bit more about him and his culture. He was someone called an Eremite, a people who hail from the deserts of Sumeru, a land far west of where they resided. According to Tazim, his people constituted various tribes who all made a living as sell swords across Teyvat, including the very guards who were keeping them imprisoned.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you" Gray responded, throwing a pebble alongside Tazim, "Let's just say it's really far away."

"Ah, so this proves the theory of the existence of far-off civilizations" another inmate approached them. He was lankier in build than either of them and his attire was not designed for functionality or combat consisting of a long green robe with a unique small hat. On top of that, he was the very person that Gray initiated a shakedown on during their first meeting when he realized his necklace was missing.

"Thinking of joining us Aresh?" Tazim asked. Gray learned that Aresh, as he was called, also hailed from Sumeru, much like Tazim but he was of a different social standing. A former student of the nation's educational institute, the Akademiya, he was the most educated among all of them, even more so than Gray. In essence, he was also Gray's best teacher and the one who truly helped him master Teyvatian.

"Not at all" Aresh declined, waving his hand, "I was just curious about Gray's origins, that's all."

"You don't seem too surprised Aresh" Gray noted.

"Let me remind you, that I am a Vahumana scholar first and foremost. History IS my forte" Aresh bragged, raising his chin up in the air, a far cry from the cowardly, trembling man he was when he met Gray. "Besides, Teyvat has hosted a myriad of ancient civilizations that have risen up and fallen throughout the ages. Gray's existence has simply proven the theory of civilizations existing beyond Teyvat itself."

The scholars' boast caused a collective groan from both Gray and Tazim, who had become accustomed to being reminded over and over again that Aresh was a Vahumana scholar from the Akademiya. Thinking of changing the subject, Tazim looked to Gray and asked, "Have you ever thought of going back home?"

The question made Gray take pause as he breathlessly stared at both of his companions before lowering his head and facing the ground. "I…" his voice hitched as he traced across the dirt, "I don't think I can."

"But why not- "Aresh was cut off by Tazim, who looked to him with a solemn shake of his head, cueing him in to let go of this subject.

Silence hung in the air once more as the three loitered without a word for several minutes. Ultimately, unable to bear this awkward tension any longer, Aresh took the initiative and spoke up, "So…Tazim, what's your story? What's an Eremite even doing here as a prisoner?"

Before Tazim could answer, Gray interjected and added his own question, "The real question is, what even is this place?"

It was something that piqued even Tazim's curiosity as they both looked to Aresh for answers. "The price of being the smart one," he thought to himself and sighed before taking a deep breath and giving them an answer, "This is the Red or as the Fontainians named it, Le Rouche. A maximum-security prison designed to house the absolute worst of Teyvat. The biggest liars, cheaters, and mass murderers are all welcome residents. Of course, that's just the surface level of what it really is. Le Rouche is also a place where governments pay money to send their biggest problems away and make them disappear…...like me."

"The Akademiya exiled you?" Tazim asked.

"The Sages to be specific" Aresh clarified, "I went a little too far in voicing my concerns against some of their actions, and in return, I got accused of almost inciting a rebellion, which was technically true. Once I was arrested, my choices were either Aaru village or here. They chose the latter."

Aresh's answer earned an indignant grunt from Tazim while Gray remained silent, unsure of what to make of it all. "Anyways, as we found out for ourselves, this is also the place where the rich and powerful of Teyvat gather to watch people die in horrible ways, no explanation is needed there."

"And escape?" Tazim pressed on.

"Unlikely, we're thousands of miles beneath the surface of the ocean. If drowning doesn't kill you, the pressure of the depth will turn you into a puddle of flesh and blood." Aresh bluntly answered, "Besides that, why are you so interested in escaping? What's your story Tazim?"

The scholar's words earned him a disappointed sigh from Tazim. The mercenary halted for a moment, hesitant to speak of his past before groaning and giving his answer, "I played too many high-stakes games, wagered more than I could handle, owed too many people too much more. Had to leave my family behind before the debt collectors came for my head. That didn't work out so well."

"So, we have ourselves an exiled scholar, a mercenary with a gambling addiction, and an outlander who was at the wrong place at the wrong time" Aresh pointed out with a tired sigh mixed in with a forced laugh, "I'd say we're in good company alright."

As the three were conversing, a commotion occurred within the neighboring cells as the three of them glanced from their bars. From where they could see, they witnessed the guards talking to a group of individuals in uniforms that Gray was unfamiliar with. "Who are they?" the ice wizard asked.

"Trouble" Tazim bluntly answered, contempt evident from the tone of his voice.

"They don't seem that tough. Who are they?" Gray inquired further.

"They're Fatui" Aresh replied, his fingers sliding through the bars as they continued looking on. The guards themselves seemed to be in some sort of heated argument with these so-called 'Fatui' as they observed the prisoners. "Snezhnaya's attack dogs and unfortunately, also the strongest military in Teyvat. They answer only to the Tsaritsa, the archon of Cryo. Everywhere they go, trouble follows and they sprout like weeds. I'd advise you to not engage them if you don't have to."

Tazim affirmed the scholar's warning by nudging the message along to Gray, "He's right, you know."

Listening to their warnings, Gray continued observing the mysterious individuals. Their clothing, which consisted of waist-length coats and a distinct mask that covered their faces did nothing to hide their shady nature or even their servitude to the cryo archon. Speaking of their god, part of him wondered just to what extent her control over the cold would be, perhaps then, he jokingly thought, maybe she could freeze his heart and numb his pain, though the other side of him was apathetic to their business.

Two more months had passed and Gray's mastery of Teyvatian had reached greater heights. On top of that, he had become accustomed to living in this dingy prison, where he and the rest had become nothing more than glorified gladiators. While Tazim could handle himself quite well, Aresh was not a fighter and was relegated to working in the mines instead. Fighting in the arena was more than just a means to survive for Gray nor did he care about the applause of the crowd. When asked if he ever thought about escaping, his answer was what would he even do if he escaped. Nothing mattered to him anymore, his friends, his home, they were all gone. There was nothing left for him to fight for. The arena served as a means for him to forget about that pain, however temporary and that was his only reason to keep fighting.

At that very moment, Gray was drowned out by the sound of applause as the crowd rose to their feet and clapped and cheered incessantly. From the back of the arena, Tazim and Aresh watched from a tiny window alongside the other prisoners from a small barred window in the holding cells. Next to the ice wizard were the corpses of various hilichurls and samachurls littered across the entire battleground, with bits and pieces of ice lying everywhere.

At the top of the balcony, the host stood at the edge and extended his arms out once more. "Ladies and gentlemen. Our rising star has done it once again. Let us give another round of applause for Gray Fullbuster" he proclaimed to which the crowd complied and applauded even harder.

"Gray….so that is his name" a voice spoke from behind the host. A deep baritone that emitted a strong aura of power and authority.

The host nervously turned back and stammered, "W-we only knew about it a month ago."

"Is that so?" the voice spoke again, emerging from the shadows to reveal a man of large and strong build, adorned with a large white cloak with fur around its collar and a distinct helmet that covered his entire face, except his deep, blue eyes. "He's capable in combat, no doubt, but nothing I have not seen. Even wielding the elements without a vision."

Il Capitano. The Captain. The First of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers.

"Well…. he's the best I have right now" the host anxiously rubbed the back of his head before speaking again, "At least the most resilient."

"That, I will not dispute. His will to live is evident" The Captain rose from his seat and marched to the edge of the balcony where he continued observing the young contender. "Yet, it would seem the warrior's flame inside of him has been snuffed out, leaving behind nothing more than an empty shell. A broken young man with nothing else left to live for except the battle itself." Capitano looked on as Gray remained still as he was being heckled by flowers. He did not roar in victory nor did he play to the crowd like a gladiator would; rather, he simply stood still and stared at the empty space in front of him, almost as if he was in a trance.

"I would like to learn more about him" Capitano requested.

…

"The coffers of Le Rouche have always been filled by the generous donations of the Northland Bank and we have strived to return that investment by seeking out excellent soldiers for the cause" the host rambled on as he led the Captain through the property, while the Harbinger silently followed along, each step of his reverberating throughout the room.

"The Regrator would tell you that it is our money that is the lifeblood that pumps through the veins of this prison" the captain added. Such things were not part of his specialty yet it was something he took notice of nonetheless because it pertained to his duty as a Harbinger under the servitude of the Tsaritsa.

"And he would be correct in that assessment, my Lord" the host agreed as he frantically looked through lockers, "Hmm, let's see…...ah….no 434, cell block no 29." With that remark, he shuffled through his keys and opened the locker, upon which he rummaged through the insides and placed the items on a nearby table. "These were the items we found on his person."

The host stepped aside as the Captain nudged forward. Placing his hands on the table, he scanned through the contents, picking up the first item, which resembled a folding pocketbook. Rummaging through the wallet, he chanced upon several pieces of thin paper with strange letters and numberings on them. "Strange notes," he said as he put them aside, and continued searching until he found what seemed like a photograph of various people next to a building. He had no clue who the people in the photograph were except for the young man, who was among them. He could easily guess that the young man was probably close to them.

Next, after putting aside the photograph, Capitano carefully picked up the necklace with his massive, armored hands and displayed it in front of his face. It was composed of pure silver, with a unique cross-shaped design at its center. The cross itself resembled a sword with a stone hilt, a most impeccable design. He sensed the hardships that it has gone through alongside its owner, an indictment of the tortured soul that hosted this necklace.

"So, what will you do, Lord Capitano?" the host inquired, anxiously rubbing his hands.

The Harbinger gently placed the necklace back on the table before he answered, "I would like to speak to him. It seems I have found someone who has the makings of a Harbinger."

AN: I've decided to rename this fanfic and change some of the premises since I'm no longer treating this as a practice run but a full-fledged story. Hopefully, I'll see where this one goes.

With the recent updates, it's all but confirmed that Capitano will be no 1 of the Harbingers with the tenth being still missing.