Sol's intentions had been exposed to the spotlight of mysterious shadow, from under the warrior's hood.
The attack thrown was swift, thrown with lethal and deceptive intent, barley missing Sol as she bent back.
This style of combat could be considered dishonourable, seeing as it was thrown purposely by surprise.
This type of attack showed a person's disregard for fair combat, against a presumably innocent girl, nonetheless.
Though Sol's impressive reaction to this method of attack showed her remarkable combative ability, clearly displaying her very apparent lack of innocence.
Thus the cloaked boy had registered her only as one thing.
An enemy.
His blade quickly retracted mid-air from where it hovered inches unscathed over Sol, after she swiftly evaded the sharp edge of his blade at the last second.
Then Immediately pulling the metal over his shoulder to swiftly sweep it back down toward the red-haired woman bent away from him.
The boy resolved to finish this quickly, if this woman had managed to dodge such an unexpected attack earlier, she was clearly dangerous.
His blade soared down.
Sol grit her teeth in agitation, caught in an awkward position against such a skilled opponent, she had no choice but to resort to the thin pocket of mana stored within her shade.
Magic is very much a key component of this world, allowing someone to summon all sort of phenomena, mana being the energy used in such a process.
In most cases spells require a decent pool of mana, stored within an aperture created by a thin veil of light between the two kidneys.
This energy flows like a midnight mist, though strangely coloured like sapphire.
For any action, energy is required.
Take the body for instance, calories are burned as a condition to a human functioning.
Without enough fuel, a motor engine cannot start.
Without enough electricity, a light bulb cannot glow.
The same applies to magic, the art of manipulating mana.
Without enough energy, a spell cannot be performed.
Sol currently operated a shade, used as a corporeal vessel to control remotely.
Though for this process to work, mana was required.
An abnormal mount at that, a delicate balance between not too much and not enough.
Therefore, most mages would be unable to use any worthwhile spell with such a sliver of mana.
Think of a sword placed in the hands of an individual compared with a knife.
The sword would be easier and more efficient to use in the art of war, no matter who you gave it to.
Though with that said.
Give a knife to the right individual, with enough experience and skill, such as a swordsman...
The efficiency of which the knife can be used, is increased.
With that being sad, Sol was a god with the experience of thousands of years of life.
She had her own work arounds to such an issue.
In Sol's case, it is not her amount of mana that makes so fearsome but her proficiency of manipulating it.
Her currently fair skinned middle and forefinger, hung by her hips, began to glow at the tips with the same hue of a warm sunset.
Her fingers suddenly beginning to curl under the weight of her thumbs, her thumb pressing onto the nails of these two fingers, as the tips of her fingers began to glow with the same intensity of hot molten in a forge.
Her fingers coiled with tension from beneath her thumb.
Then all at once, the tension snapped like elastic.
Her fingers shot out from her thumb, aimed diagonally up at the cloaked boy, sending sparks skittering like dragon's breath.
At once the sparks latched onto the fabric of the cloak.
The faintest flick of flame catching onto the hem of the cloak's hood, causing the cloaked warrior to fly his arms over his face.
Sol regained her footing with the slip of time she was given.
Then, leaping forward she pounced onto the figure, yanking the distracted figure to the floor by his arm with practised ease.
The cloaked figure slammed onto the floor with a thud and a groan, a star-shaped token clattering to the floor as it slipped free from the cloak and rolled out of reach along the ground.
The simmering ends of the fabric began crumpling into blackened pieces, dropping like ash to the stone floor.
Sol continued her assault, pressing her knee into side of his lower back.
Her hand yanking his sword arm uncomfortably behind his shoulder, then pressing the golden tips of her fingers into the collar of his neck.
"Talk, or I burn your carotid artery to a crisp here and now." Sol ordered in a stern tone, her voice carrying the same fire gently heating against the figures neck.
There was a long silence.
Sol looked down at where the hood crumpled, entirely into a mixture of ash and torn cloth, to reveal the boy's hair.
The back of the figures head was covered in short dark-black hair, like a pool of spilled oil.
"I said...talk." She demanded as she pressed the tips of her radiant fingers against his fair skin, eliciting a strangled grunt muffled against the stone floor.
"Who are you?!" Sol ordered as she pulled her fingers back an inch.
"Julius Sparrow..." He strained reluctantly as he adjusted to the pain.
"How did you kill the champion? Demi-gods don't just drop lifelessly like that after a few blows." Sol demanded to know, her tone growing fiercer and louder.
Another silence, then the sound of hot breathing hitting against the stone as the boy breathed a long sigh of exasperation...
"I asked you a-" Sol began, only for the boy to suddenly whip his head around, turning past his shoulder.
Sol saw the half of the boy's face up close, finally.
Clear enough to see the faint cuts and scratches along his jaw.
Clear enough to see a brown eye, with a gentle hint of amber, looking up at the ceiling with a narrowed look that conveyed his piercing stare.
Upon seeing this face, Sol felt balls of light pulse in a cold explosion as they drifted from her mind and float back into nonexistence.
This face, so young, made Sol hesitate for just a moment.
"FALSON!" The boy screamed at the top of his lungs, sending subtle tremors into the air.
"Hehe...Already knew you'd come crying for your favourite friend, like a good little Jules." A voice teased in a lilt behind Sol.
"What? Another person was still in the room? But I already looked into the room, there was only this cloaked bastard!" Sol cursed internally, already whipping her head over her shoulder.
Though it was too late.
By the time Sol looked behind her, she saw a blinding light already beginning to intensify further in the hallway.
There was no chant, that was the part that stood out to Sol as she eyed this unfathomable light.
The fulgent light seemed to travel literally closer to her, blocking out anything behind the light, illuminating the whole hallway in a ginormous beam of pure tantalising light.
This blinding light, emitted not a single trace of mana, as though this was just pure light that had suddenly been pulled into existence from nothingness.
The last thing that Sol somehow perceived, before her shade was burnt to nothingness, was the voice of overly joyful laughter muttering.
"A shade? You gods are so predictable..."
...
"...And then?" Mr Ignis asked in his usual deep accent, his voice like two glossy black magnets of the same pole smoothly running over each other.
Sol stood in the same spot as earlier, her entire body the same texture as candlelight.
Her appearance was not to be confused with the same as her shades, rather her natural appearance, even as none of her fiery body emitted any heat like a cold shadow.
Her smooth chin titled down, her hot beacons for eyes lost distantly into the multicoloured chimera fur rug underneath her.
Sol blinked, snapping out of her memories as she tilted her chin back up.
"That's it. Light is the only thing a shade is susceptible to. A light like that too..." Her voice trailed off, breathing a sigh as her voice seemed uncharacteristically soft with the memory of defeat.
Mr Ignis's eyes narrowed with contemplation, setting his sleeved elbows onto the table.
Though how his clothes didn't burn over that molten-rock skin, was beyond anyone's knowledge.
"You seem a little too familiar with him though for just one encounter." Mr Ignis breathed with curiosity.
"Of course." Sol nodded slowly, crossing her arms of pure flame.
"Since I had his name I eventually, after an arduous process, finally found him." Sol explained in an almost tired voice, as if recalling the memories drained her all over again.
"He's different, since then...Maybe I played a part in it." Sol breathed quietly, more to herself than the lava-man across from her behind the dark obsidian desk.
There was long silence, as if the room physically digested Sol's thoughts.
Mr Ignis finally stirred, reaching down to examine the now open yellow folder.
In front of him, on the obsidian desk, displayed all of Julius Sparrow's information.
Multiple tabs were blank or "unknown."
"His powers then? In all this time, you've really never-" Mr Ignis was interrupted by Sol.
"Not once, if it was an act, I'm sure even I would've seen through it by now." Sol answered in a dry tone.
"Though..." Sol paused, her eyes softening with contemplation.
"There was one time, he told me something...There was something that happened when he was five. Thirteen years ago now. That's all I know." Sol suggested thoughtfully, her eyes widening to their normal position as she tilted her head back up.
"Hmm..." Mr Ignis hummed in a deep rumbling voice.
"And the other voice, did you ever find out who it is?" Mr Ignis questioned once more.
"I told you already, that's all I know." Sol answered his question once more.
"The only person I know in his inner circle is his guardian, his Uncle." Sol shared in a soft voice, though never losing her regal tone.
Mr Ignis huffed a soft breath through his nose, the air scorching like steam from boiled water.
"Well, thank you for your time anyway Sol. You've been a big help." Mr Ignis nodded as her addressed her professionally in a gentle tone.
"What will you do now, about the vault?" Sol asked curiously with a raised eye brow, a sliver of hair made from flames where her brow would be.
"Oh...I'm sure we'll get it back, eventually." Mr Ignis chuckled softly with a knowing smile.
Sol rolled her eyes dramatically, understanding the implication, then turning away like she was about to walk off.
She left the room, not by stepping out the office, but instead letting her current corporeal form dissipate into nothingness.
Sections of her flames appearing transcalent as they slowly began enweaving into nonexistence.
The office suddenly became quieter.
...
The wind swept valiantly through Julius's black hair, a familiar voice calling excitedly out from behind him.
"Woohoo! This is amazing! We're flying!" Thurid screamed out, her joyful voice almost being shredded by the wind as the two soared through the skies.
Beneath them was a transparent stallion, it's large winds slicing through the air behind them as the mythical creature carried it's companions through the air.
The surface of its body was made from pressurised air, swirling around in the shape of something horse-like.
It's wings were made from the same transparent winds, the ground visible through it's body far below them as if looking through glass.
Julius leaned forward on the Pegasus, the wind strong enough to pull at the skin of his face as he narrowed his eyes to endure the winds..
Thurid, with her strong demi-god body, endured the wind just nicely as the wind strung her wild red-auburn hair behind her like a whipping orange swish.
Her grip remained firm around Julius, she mentally took note of how fragile Julius's body felt.
Thurid then tightened her squeeze, her arms curling just slightly enough to elicit a subtle grunt between Julius's teeth, the silent sound that came from Julius was immediately lost to the wind.
Though Thurid could feel, even as fragile as his bones were to her strength, the perceivable mass of powerful human muscle underneath his uniform.
She loosened her grip just a tad.
Julius remained silent, riding the Pegasus with practiced grace as they swept through the winds.
Soon the skies twisted with different lights, the hues of blue fostering into ethereal turquoise.
The ground beneath them, previously shifting into clearings of blue depths, replaced with arching masses of stone.
Ahead of them, a wall of towering fog stood menacingly.
The grey mist was dark, mysteriously so, stretching impossibly in one massive wall as wide as a country.
The Pegasus continued to fly out further, jetting further across this stone before diving through the wall of fog.
The fog lasted exactly thirty-three seconds, though it would've lasted much longer if Julius used more conventional methods of travel.
Thurid groaned in frustration, clearly agitated by the billowing grey obscuring her vision.
Julius still remained silent, his gaze remained patiently narrowed ahead, whilst the Pegasus dived forward.
When the Pegasus finally shot out the other side of the thick fog wall, the plume of fog parted from the speed of the Pegasus.
The wall immediately closing, in seconds, after the obscuring wall had been punctured.
In front of the three beneath them was a now massive clearing, surrounded in a ring of rocky mountains.
Each mountain curling around a massive pool of shimmering blue in the centre.
The two on the Pegasus looked up, Julius's eyes narrowing silently to observe, the fog stretched around in a dome to surround the circle of mountains.
"Woah..." Thurid breathed in astonishment, she definitely hadn't envisioned anything as breathtaking as this place when she considered joining Julius.
Julius's gaze flicked back down, taking in the scenery as the Pegasus scooped down.
The creature's wings reached out either side of it's body, gliding through the air as it slowly followed the ring of mountains whilst Julius scoped out the area.
The Pegasus felt Julius's weight shift on top of it, guiding the creature further down toward the dirt framing the glistening body of water.
The creature swooped gently to the ground, perching on the corner of the shore as the two on it's body slowly slid down.
"So? You gonna keep being dark and mysterious? Or are you going to tell me where we are?" Thurid asked in a gentle tease, snickering softly as she followed Julius along the dirt trim toward the centre of the shore.
Julius silently huffed cold through his nose, though the area beneath these mountains was surprisingly warm.
His steps were masterful in an indescribable way, he carried himself gracefully to the centre line of the shore.
"This is Helheim." He finally revealed in a crisp whisper, as if speaking was a waste of time, reserving his voice for more important matters.
Thurid stood wide eyed, her brows creasing with confusion as she spun her chin around her.
Juius stepped forward, until the tips of his feet came to the edge of the grass shore.
Beneath him the waters sloshed endlessly, the depths obscured by the crystally surface of the water.
The surface remained empty for a moment, even after Julius stepped onto the edge.
Eventually, as if hiding behind something, Julius's reflection swam up from the depths and into view on the surface.
"But how-" Thurid began curiously, only to be interrupted by the same crisp whisper, somehow breathing a visible mist into the warm air.
"This, is a piece of the underworld. One that my father snatched away, it is called Lake Mynesonome." Julius explained quietly, not noticing the further widening of Thurid's gaze in mix of confusion and disbelief.
It wasn't long ago that Julius had just been confirmed to be a mortal, yet now he was casually mentioning a father that had "stolen" a piece of hell.
"Is this guy crazy? What have I dragged myself into..." Thurid sulked internally, her expression pouting with the depressing thought, her shoulders sagging slightly.
Then before Thurid could asked further, Julius spoke again in a clearer shout, his voice projecting in a assertive demand as it rippled subtly over the waters.
"I came to bury my possessions, I offer my reflection, open to me and let thou bathe in the waters of security."
For a long moment there was stillness.
A silence that haunted the mountains, ghosting down into the water.
"Ah I knew it!" Thurid sighed in hopelessly as she threw her thick arms up.
"You really are crazy-" Thurid began to whine with the same pout.
SLOSH!
The massive lake immediately gurgled violently, it's surface bubbling in the centre.
The bubbles rippled omnidirectionally across the entire surface of the water, the foam at the centre of the water beginning to pile.
The water climbed with the foam, like a pen poking outward of a balloon from the insides.
The pressure accumulated, the water bubbling further into the centre as the middle of the surface continued to expand.
BANG!
The expansion of the water, like a balloon, had popped in the centre, causing the water to fall onto itself and clash with the water on the surface.
The clash didn't last long, the surface immediately sloshing back in reaction to the explosion.
This monstrous sloshing made the body of water tremble, the lake finally splitting into two, to diverge from each other down the centre line.
The two waters hissed at each other as they rolled away from each other, revealing a wide and long gap between the two sides of water.
The inside edges of these waters had stilled unnaturally, turning into walls of water that kept the lake halved.
The parting of the water revealed, not rock or dirt, but a shimmering blue path with a surface that glowed magically.
This surface ran forward in a path between the two walls of water, extending down into a stairwell that stretched down past the spectators gazes.
Thurid stood frozen, her jaw wide with disbelief, her eyes dazed and distant at the strange walkway.
"Hah! Maybe I overreacted!" She concluded in a bizarre shift of tone, her expression now radiantly beaming with her wide smile, as if she had forgotten all her doubt or how she acted entirely.
Julius seemed indifferent to her change of reaction, looking over his shoulder at Thurid with a blank gaze.
He breathed a slow huff through his nose.
Then he took the first step forward.
end of chapter 8