Sol’s Approval

"Care to fill me in?" Shirley asked, stretching his arms lazily, completely unbothered by the chaos that had just unfolded.

"Not much to say apart from the fact I nearly died," Ezra snapped, glaring at him. "Oh, and let's not forget, my 'only' companion was conveniently knocked out the whole time."

"Hey, that's not my fault," Shirley protested, raising his hands defensively. "I was really tired."

"Yeah, sure," Ezra replied, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

Shirley smirked, unfazed. "Well, while you were playing hero, I figured I'd let you know—there's a big brute, probably still outside, and it's trying to kill us."

Ezra pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling sharply. "Of course there is. Why wouldn't there be?"

Things didn't make sense, and Ezra knew it. He barely understood his powers, let alone why a bull-like creature seemed intent on killing him. The questions swirled in his mind, but he shoved them aside to focus on the immediate issue.

"Any idea what this chamber is?" Ezra asked, gesturing around the dimly lit space with a hint of frustration.

"Yeah, some glyph markings on the wall, a couple of weird statues. I've got a rough idea," Shirley replied nonchalantly, leaning against the wall.

Ezra shot him a sharp look. "And you weren't planning to share this 'rough idea' sooner?"

Shirley shrugged. "Didn't seem urgent at the time. Plus, you were busy not dying."

"Well, I can't be bothered to explain the long version," Shirley added, waving a dismissive hand. "But I'll summarize it for you."

Ezra raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Oh, please enlighten me."

Shirley ignored his sarcasm. "The power inside everyone—what lets us do all this crazy stuff—is called resonance. It flows through us, binds us to our abilities. Think of it as your personal battery for all things supernatural."

Ezra blinked, leaning forward slightly. "Okay, that actually makes sense. Go on."

"These monsters you've seen don't just pop up randomly," Shirley continued, gesturing vaguely. "They come through rift zones—tears in the fabric of reality. Nasty little portals where things that shouldn't exist crawl through and try to kill us."

Ezra frowned, his mind racing. "So this chamber, these glyphs… They're connected to resonance? Or the rift zones?"

"Glyphs," Shirley explained, leaning back casually, "are special markings you unlock after completing a rift zone and entering your soul realm—or soul sanctuary, depending on how far you go."

Ezra raised an eyebrow. "Markings? Like… tattoos?"

"Exactly," Shirley said, pointing at him. "But not just any tattoos. These are permanent, tied to your resonance. Everyone gets one after they awaken and complete the process. It's like a badge of honor—and power."

"So, where's your glyph?" Ezra asked, crossing his arms, skepticism clear in his voice.

Shirley shrugged. "Meh, can't use my resonance anymore."

Ezra's eyebrows shot up. "Why's that?"

"Got some witch mad, the bitch sealed it away," Shirley replied casually, as though it were a minor inconvenience.

Ezra stared at him, disbelief etched across his face. "You expect me to believe that?"

Shirley sighed, shaking his head. "Fine. Don't believe me. But here…" He rolled up his sleeve, revealing his forearm.

Ezra leaned in, his eyes widening as he saw the mark. A scratched-out glyph marred Shirley's muscular arm. Deep, jagged lines scarred the intricate tattoo-like marking, rendering it useless. The skin around it was rough and uneven, a permanent reminder of what had been once there.

"What the…" Ezra trailed off, stunned.

"She didn't just seal it," Shirley said, flexing his arm slightly. "She wanted to make damn sure I couldn't get it back. Real nice, huh?"

"But you used it that day—" Ezra pointed out.

Shirley let out a dry laugh. "I can only use a little bit. Barely enough to matter."

Ezra's eyes narrowed. "Barely enough? Looked pretty effective to me."

"Against small fry, sure," Shirley admitted, rolling his shoulders. "But it's useless against big creatures like that brute we faced. And even then, it takes a huge toll on my body."

Ezra frowned, skeptical. "How huge?"

"The kind that makes me feel like I've aged ten years in ten seconds," Shirley said, his tone grim. "It's not sustainable. Every time I use it, I'm gambling with what little I've got left."

Ezra crossed his arms, still processing. "Then why bother?"

"Because sometimes, it's the only option," Shirley said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. "When running isn't an option and fighting back is the only way to stay alive… you use what you've got."

Ezra stayed silent, the weight of Shirley's words settling heavily.

"Speaking of which," Shirley continued, his tone shifting back to its usual casual drawl, "there's more. Getting your archetype. That determines what class, theme, and rank your powers fall under. Got it?"

Ezra nodded slowly, his curiosity growing.

Shirley yawned, rolling onto his side, already looking far too comfortable. "And as for why I'm here? I've got no clue, and frankly, I don't give a shit," he said, his voice trailing off lazily.

With that, he closed his eyes, shifting into a position that screamed "nap time." Ezra sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Unbelievable."

For a moment, the room was filled with nothing but silence and Shirley's faint breathing. Ezra's mind churned with questions he didn't even know how to voice. Finally, he broke the silence.

"Every time I try to use my flames… why do I get tired?" he asked, his frustration slipping into his voice.

Shirley cracked one eye open, giving Ezra a bored look. "'Cause you're meant to absorb fragments left behind by the monsters after killing them, dumbass," he drawled, barely lifting his head from his makeshift pillow.

"Fragments?" Ezra asked, frowning.

"Yeah, soul shards or whatever you want to call them. They're left behind when you kill monsters. You absorb them to strengthen yourself. You don't, and your resonance gets drained. Basic stuff," Shirley explained, yawning halfway through.

Ezra's frown deepened. "And when were you going to tell me this?"

"Didn't think it was worth mentioning until now," Shirley replied with a shrug, already closing his eyes again. "Anyway, where was I in my dream? Oh, right…"

He trailed off, mumbling incoherently as he settled into what Ezra could only assume was the start of another nap.

—

"Hey, come here," Ezra said, signaling to the feline with a softer tone.

She glared at him, her sharp blue eyes narrowing in what could only be described as annoyance. Her ears twitched, clearly still holding a grudge from earlier.

"I'm sorry," he said, his tone genuine but awkward. "I shouldn't have commanded you like that."

The feline didn't seem convinced. Her glare remained unwavering, her tail swishing in what Ezra could only interpret as skepticism.

"How about I give you a name?" he suggested, his tone hopeful. That got her attention—her ears perked up slightly, though she still feigned indifference.

"Clara?" he tried, watching her reaction.

She stared blankly, her expression making it clear she wasn't impressed.

"Bell? No? Mona…?" he offered, each name sounding weaker than the last. The feline's tail flicked sharply, and she cocked her head to the side in annoyance, pretending not to hear him.

Ezra groaned, rubbing his temples. "This is harder than finding those damn monsters," he muttered, closing his eyes as he searched his mind for something fitting.

"Sol?" he finally said, opening his eyes cautiously.

Her ears twitched, and this time she looked up, her piercing gaze locking onto him with something close to approval.

"Finally," Ezra sighed in relief, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Sol it is then."

The feline blinked slowly, almost as if she were granting him her approval, before settling herself gracefully on the ground, her tail curling around her paws. Ezra let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.