[i]Four years ago, she was broken, left to rot beneath a hellish sky of red flame and falling debris. The flesh that bound her whole had been ripped and pulled apart, right down to the bone. She wanted to scream, but the fumes of the fire filled her lungs each time she gasped for air.

As she choked from the fumes, and lay on the cracked earth, she captured a glimpse of the man who left her for dead. He won, after all, and it was only fitting that he would be free to escape. In an ironic twist of fate, her body would mold with the elements, and she would be forever lost to the black. She could have laughed.[/i]

Xaih stepped to the center of the lobby, her leather boots echoing softly though the empty room. While this particular setting was certainly new to her, she was first introduced to rugged areas, a drunken crowd, if there was one, and leaving a fight on an empty stomach. While in recovery, she grew more accustomed to a life of peace than aggression. The people who helped her, they reminded Xaih of the ones in her village--privileged to live on a and of abundant resources, yet lucky enough to not live under the rule of a merciless God.

Unlike them, however, she could not sustain a lifestyle of peace for long. She wasn't ungrateful, but she couldn't live with them.

Looking around, to her far right she found entryways to other areas, and to her left a small resting area. Her boots clicked against the floor once more as she made her way over to the small set of chairs and sat down. She flipped her long black hair over her shoulder and immediately started to move her fingers through the strands. Quietly, she waited for the other competitors to arrive, and with both eyes closed.

She needed to keep her memories close, and to remind herself she made the right decision.