The cloaked figure moved through the narrow halls like a shadow, their ragged charcoal-black cloak was tattered and full of holes.
Their hood still perfectly obscured their face from all curious gazes.
Suddenly the cloaked figure paused at the east end of the hall, the opposite of where he had come from, twisting around the corner and disappearing out of sight.
Sol stood watching them until they were out of sight, then continuing in the same direction as the cloaked figure.
Until she reached the middle of the hall.
She paused at the same door that she saw the figure standing at moments ago, looking up at the sign that read "champion" on the door.
The door was the same shade of red as the other countless doors within the hallway, the handle was wooden and rounded out, the wooden sign plastered with "champion" at the top of the door.
Sol reached for the door handle and twisted it open, pushing it open to examine the inside of the room.
The room was far from plain, the walls were old and faded, coloured a dark shade of faded orange.
The room looked lived-in, decorated with a well-furnished purple armchair.
The chair sat in the left corner of the room, pebbled with dots of gold between sowing lines that kept the rich leather together.
On the left side of the room, beside the armchair, stood a long wooden peg with a carved wooden torso attached at the top.
A long strip saddled over the mannequin, keeping a golden shoulder pad tangled around the torso.
The shoulder pad was shaped to resemble a square with fangs protruding from the top and bottom of the golden plate.
Beside the armour stand, on the wall hung a golden ornate mirror.
The polished surface was square, with a golden trim outlining, reflecting Sol's human appearance who was staring disdainfully into the mirror.
Then on the last side of the room sat a measly wooden desk, on top stood a glass bottle with a cork popped in the top.
The glass was clear, containing a swirling purple liquid with a thin consistency, that would've smelled like honey and cinnamon if Sol popped off the top.
Beside the potion lay a thin parchment with something inscribed neatly, the potion standing over the corner of the letter to keep the message from slipping away.
"A little something to keep you relaxed during your match, from your secret admirer~" The letter read in very loopy handwriting, just how a flirty concubine would write.
Just as Sol finished reading the letter she heard footsteps distantly approaching, Sol's eyes widened before slipping away from the room, instantly darting down the direction she saw the cloaked figure take off to earlier.
Sol reached the end of the hall and twisted around the corner to slip out of sight but not before noticing something out of the corner of her eye.
She saw an unbearably tan man with hair shorter than a horse brush, chuckle as he came from the direction that Sol had earlier, stepping through the red door and into the room Sol had hastily left.
The sight lost to Sol, as the wall blocked her view when she passed it, as if the wall had slid into view.
Sol followed the corridor where the corner took her, hastily pumping her arms and legs in long strides down the hall when she suddenly saw an unbearable light streaming from the end of the hall.
She continued again until she reached the mouth of this opening, her forearm planted on her brows to bear the light as she stepped through the opening.
Immediately Sol grit her teeth together as the light poured onto the apparition she used as a body.
She clenched her jaw, focusing all her attention on maintain her human form under the bright light.
Sol looked around and found herself now at a spectator platform on the inside of the ring walls.
Around her were an endless number of heads, all seated in lines of seats where the stone curved out in rows like benches for people to sit within the coliseum.
Sol tilted her head, her arm still on her brow as she found the source of this light.
A ball of glass dangled in the air, held in place by a thick metal chain made from adamantine, a rare and incredibly sturdy metal.
Within this ball of glass, a swarm of tiny insects all flattered about infinitely.
On the backs of each insect sat a transparent sack with a white glow.
One insect was enough to produce light equivalent to Sol's own fiery ringed eyes.
Though with these many insects, known to the citizens of Nioavellir as glowbugs, the light produced from the ball was enough to illuminate the whole coliseum.
"Oi, Missy, Sit down or you'll miss the last fight!" A loud voice called from one of the seats behind her.
"Come sit over here, I'll gladly watch with you beside me." A different voice called out with a snicker from a few rows down.
Sol spun her chin, shooting the second voice a fiery glare before twisting away to find an empty clearing at the highest row of stone.
A long row of smooth flat stone sat like an extended slab, a somewhat empty clearing around her as Sol lowered herself onto the stone and looked down into the pit.
Sol settled onto the top seat with a sigh of relief, feeling the light ease up on her form from where she sat all the way up in the coliseum.
The pit, the very centre of the coliseum, tunnelled down into the floor.
As if a hydraulic press pushed the arena into place.
The area was wide and rough with hot sand; rough pillars made from red sandstone scattered around the pit.
The walls surrounding the pit were made from the same even grey stone as the coliseum, circling around the pit where it buried deep into the floor.
On both sides of the pit sat massive red doors with a curve at the top of the doors, one door finally opening from one side as the black-cloaked figure stepped into the pit.
"Ah, can you believe he beat the magic swordsmen Nate?" A bald spectator breathed aloud two rows down from Sol's row.
"Obviously, he's the champion." Sol thought to herself, leaning forward to tuck her knuckles under her chin as she watched.
"Aye, without a flicker of magic no doubt." A dwarf spectator replied in a thick accent beside the bald spectator.
Sol's orange ringed eyes grew just a tad wider.
"A mortal? As a champion? That's unheard of!" She thought again to herself as her brows furrowed, unable to decide whether to be impressed or disgusted.
The cloaked figure remained still where they stepped into the pit, their hood mounted over their head still.
Sol's eyes subconsciously narrowed onto the figure once again, not noticing the huge shadow that he leapt into the air.
"LOOK IT'S THE-" The bald spectator shouted as he pointed up in the sky at the silhouette.
The blinding light from the glass ball obscuring the new figure flying through the air as they crashed down into the ground.
Their landing loud enough to block out the noise of the bald spectator's last words as he finished his sentence.
The impact from the figure crashing into the ground caused the sand to blow into the air, carrying forward with the shockwave that was sent out.
The shockwave continued, carrying further across the sand until it reached the cloaked figure.
The wind whipped hard against the cloaked figure, their stance remaining unfazed, the hood unable to withstand the pressure and flying back to reveal the figure's face.
Sol felt the same feeling she felt from earlier upon seeing the figure's face, balls of invisible blue light floating out from her mind and exploding into cold euphoria as she studied the figures face.
The face had fair skin, with slight bruises over battered cheekbones.
"Probably from this tournament." Sol thought to herself as she continued to closely watch the boy.
The face was young, too young, the boy's black fringe almost spilling over his deep brown and amber tinted eyes like leaking oil.
"That's not the champion..." Sol realised suddenly, turning her head across the sand.
She watched as opposite the dark-haired youth a crouched figure rose to their feet across the sand.
This fighter was far bulkier than the cloaked figure, on the other side of the sand, with unbearably tan skin and brown hair that poked up like bristles of a horse brush.
Strapped to his god-like physique was a single shoulder pad, the same golden one with gold teeth that Sol had found in champion's dressing room.
In the warrior's hand was a peculiar item, a blade that shone a radiant cardinal red like a glowing gem.
With a gold handguard that spiralled out around the top of the grip, like a whirlpool of shiny gold.
The grip was wrapped in white cloth, dotted with golden diamond shapes across both sides of the grip.
The blade itself looked like it was carved from a ruby crystal, shaped with an ever so slight curve that ran along the radiant crystal blade like a katana.
Sol froze, her eyes widening with realisation as her gaze swept along the blade.
She recognised the material of the blade as celestial bronze, an ore that was capable of generating mana, undoubtably a rare material.
"They say he's Hercules's kid, a demigod." The bald spectator breathed quietly in astonishment.
The fiery rings of Sol's eyes widened once again with realisation, her gaze sweeping across the sand once again.
She narrowed her eyes on the boy in the cloak.
The boy's face was as calm as could be, like a serene lake without a single ripple.
"What was he doing inside the room?" Sol thought to herself as a booming voice called from a platform all the way across from Sol.
The voice was loud, overly performative as it cut through the noise of the cheering crowd.
"Ladies, orcs, creatures and Gentlemen! I present to you the final bout of the evening!" The voice boomed from a red platform with a red roof that was built to hang above the crowd, attached into the coliseum wall.
"In one corner you have the challenger, proven himself worthy after many victories, SPPAARRRRRROWWWWW!"
The crowd cheered loudly, their voices all conglomerating into one deathly scream.
"In the other corner you have the one that holds the crown, he's stood undefeated at the top and now another challenger wants a piece of the pie! You know him! You love him! BOOOOOOOOOONECRUSHEEERRRRRRR"
The deafening sounds seemed to somehow get even louder, blaring at the top of people's lungs as they awaited a crazy slaughter.
Even the bald man and the dwarf were crying out as loud as they can, their fists raised tightly in the air.
DING!
A bell-shaped top was struck at the red platform, signalling the start of the fight.
The champion, Bonecrusher, took the first step forward.
His bottom half was almost naked apart from a brown hide pelt that dropped to his thighs.
His thick bronze legs lifted before dropping to the ground with a thud that made the ground tremble.
Another thunderous step.
Another ground rattling advancement across the sand.
Meanwhile the cloaked figure stood deathly still, even as this powerhouse slowly approached.
The boy's face remained as cold as ice, as calm as the winds on a hot summer in a grass valley.
The champion was tall, roughly the size of two small carriages stacked on upon one another.
The boy, "Sparrow", felt each step that the bronze behemoth took.
The champion's path was slow and tortuous, whilst Sparrow hadn't moved a muscle.
Then from the hem of the black cloak, the boy's hand slipped free.
Soon after, something long and metallic dropping from the cloak and into his hand.
The sword was short, with a dull blade made from what looked like a cheap metal.
The edges of the blade were subtly chipped and glossy, compared to the middle of the blade, from how many times the metal had been grinded down with a whetstone.
Below the base of the blade was a thin rectangle plate of metal that attached the handle to the blade, acting as a handguard.
The handle, that the boy gripped tightly, was wrapped in worn white cloth.
Finally the boy moved, his leg twitching before slowly retreating backward with slow and calculated steps.
Sol shifted in her seat on the lengthy slab of stone, her eyes seriously narrowed as she tracked the boy's movements.
Bonecrusher watched the small boy begin to calmly back away, his bronze face shifting as his lips curved into a taunting grin.
"What you got there, kid? Don't you know children shouldn't play with swords?" The champion taunted in a rough voice as he approached the boy.
Then with one last step, the Bonecrusher's ankle shifted ever so slightly.
The boy's eyes narrowing on his ankle just before Bonecrusher began closing in on the boy, in one thunderous leap.
Bonecrushers's entire bronze frame curled forward, his glowing crystal blade following behind him in the air as whipped blindly toward the boy.
The boy's cloak warped around him in the air as he moved like a shadow.
His body already shifting since he noticed the subtle twitch of Bonecrusher's ankle.
The boy's shoulder hitting the floor as he dived to the side and rolled to safety.
The sword skimmed the edge of the boy's cloak, crashing instead into the sand and causing a cloud dust of yellow to blow over and engulf the bronze champion where he stood.
"Eh, so you're a slippery one." A rough voice murmured through the yellow haze, stepping out to reveal Bonecrusher's wide grin.
The boy continued to retreat, his steps slower now from caution.
His expression remained calm, like a veil of mist, concealing his intentions as he shuffled back.
His right foot pointed toward the tanned giant, his left bent slightly outward, shifting back slowly whilst steadily holding his own short sword in front of him with one hand.
His free hand slipped into his cloak, disappearing behind the layer of darkness.
"Let's see how long you can runaway then." The bronze giant scoffed before charging forward again with eyes that flared with bloodlust.
His left arm reaching out blindly toward the boy, his crystal sword in his right arm blindly whipping forward again, like an oversized monkey wielding a weapon.
The boy bent his knees, jolting away whilst this time at the last second chucking a red trimmed card toward where he previously stood.
Sol's eyes widened with a sharp tang of realisation, watching the red crystal sword as it missed the boy again and met instead with this card, splitting it into two just as the boy spoke.
"Rye." A disinterested voice breathed harshly.
BANG!
At once an eruption of scorching flame detonated from where the blade split the card into two.
The flame twisted around violently as it swept over Bonecrusher, who roared harshly as he retracted his left arm to endure the flame.
"What the-" The crowd gasped at the sudden explosion, taken aback by the surprise of having never seen any use of magic from the cloaked figure before.
Not in any of his battles in the coliseum, not in the many he participated in and won to be here now and fight the champion.
None could comprehend how it happened, every spectator believed that the cloaked figure had been hiding his ability to use magic until now.
Though Sol knew, she had the experience to understand what had happened.
The champion's sword was made from celestial bronze, an ore that generated and contained mana.
In order for a talisman to activate it needed to be imbued with mana, similar to how Sol imbued mana into her shade to use it.
Sol had understood this, realising that the cloaked fighter had used Bonecrusher's swing of his own sword to strike the card, thus giving the talisman the mana required.
Sol also knew that the word the figure used, "Rye," was a chant to detonate the card.
The "Rye" talisman was the sign for "fire."
Which is why flame had miraculously appeared in the coliseum.
The other spectators were not aware of any of this, most likely never having seen a talisman before.
Talismans are specific circulations of mana stored inside an item, like preserved magic spells in a rectangular card.
Thus talismans were expensive and hard to acquire, certainly rare.
Only a handful of people in the coliseum might've recognised them, let alone seen one before up close.
Not to mention that Sparrow had thrown the talisman so fast, that it was hard to notice from the seats all the way up in the coliseum.
Even Bonecrusher, who had fought so many opponents, doubted if he saw a talisman or not.
That was how Precise this "Sparrow" was.
The flame then soon dispersed like mist clearing up, revealing the bright brazen scar engraved into Bonecrusher's left arm.
The champion's jaw split as he huffed ragged breaths, his eyes wide as he twisted his arms over to examine his scorched arm.
His eyes widened harder with rage before screaming. "LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO MY ARM! I'LL KILL-"
The champions tantrum was cut short by something thrown toward him.
A bundle of metallic spheres, the size of ball bearings, with rough black spikes that looked like hardened darkened graphite.
The balls were handmade, equipped with a slither of string between the spikes, displaying something fizzing like a spark.
The string just so happening to reach the end of the make-shift fuse, right as it flew toward Bonecrusher's eyes.
BANGBANGBANG!
end of chapter 5