Nowaru

"Trying not to attract attention," early in the morning, Hanelion, still in rags but no longer as dirty (although it's hard to tell how clean his hair is in the twilight), leaves the establishment and turns into some empty corner. There, he quickly throws his rags into the ditch and stretches to his full height, so that all his joints crack. "Ah, how good it feels, I'm tired of walking hunched over!" A completely different person emerged onto the street, one who was hard to recognize as the former beggar: a true mage. And although his old legs didn't carry him with the speed of the wind, he still looked proud in his own way. And these proud, aching legs led him to the Colosseum.