The air shimmered as the sun rose high in the sky, bringing with it the sweltering heat that constantly affected the area. The land was barren, with only a few dead trees littering the burnt soil that was now blackened. What the cause had been, was unknown, the evidence was simply there for someone to put together how they willed. Trenches crossed the land, each no more than a few feet deep, yet they were numerous. Perhaps a battle had taken place, and a magical spell had gotten out of hand, or a simple fire that was too powerful to be stopped by conventional methods. Whatever the cause, the land was now empty, without a soul in sight, not a bird in the air nor a beast on the ground.

The silence was rudely broken by the crunching of the soil, a sound that seemed far too loud. A shadow crossed the ground, another anomaly to this destroyed land, a shadow where no one had stood for quite some time. Walking upright, a figure as dark as the shadow he cast on the ground made his way towards a dead tree, apparently unfazed by the burning heat that beat down from the sky and rose from the scorched ground. After that first step where the ground had broken, silence had once again reigned over the area, the intruders steps making no sound as he ghosted towards the center of the barren field.

The figure known as Death stopped suddenly, intent upon something. There had been no transition from moving to standing still, a simple stop that took place instantly where the person's eyes continued to move forward before his brain registered what had occured. Slowly, Death's right hand moved upward, coming up until it was level with his shoulders. A shapeless cloud spread from that hand, stretching and taking shape as it grew larger and larger. With finite detail, the staff was formed, ruins carved upon it in a forgotten language. A blade grew from the top, made of some metal that was black as night and appeared dull to the eye. With another silence breaking crunch, the but of the scythe ground into the soil, resting easily in Death's hand.

The first round of the tournament was over, and the second was soon to begin. It was with a strange sense of sadness that Death had watched Derian, his second-in-command, leave. Other matters were required to be taken care of, and no one other that Derian could have handled it. Which left Death in a two on one fight, which was a fight that he was still confident he could win. The last round had been a warmup, a fight against two pathetic figures that should have died years ago. It was amazing that they were still alive with how they fought. If they met a fighter of real merit, they wouldn't last 5 minutes. It had put Death in a blacker mood than normal to be faced off against two beings such as those, and he was going to take out his frustration on his next opponents. It was time to start the second round, just as soon as his foes arrived.

The rush of the cold wind blew against Yumi’s back and made her shiver. She was surprised that she made to the next round, for she was rather weak. Coming up to the huge fence, Yumi started to climb up the ladder slowly for she didn’t feel rushed. Something about this day made her feel weak. Yumi made sure that the ladder could hold her weight and wouldn’t break under her. The last thing she needed was to fall down. Yumi shook like a leaf in the wind, perhaps she was scared, or maybe it was the cold wind that rubbed against her back. Her lips quivered as she looked down, it seemed like a long way down. With a quick snap she held herself close to the ladder, not climbing up anymore. She wondered why she was even doing here, she wasn’t a fighter; and anyone could easily kill if they wanted to. With a sigh she knew she couldn’t turn back, and ditch her partner so she advanced upwards on the ladder. Finally she made it to the top, the fence wen at a steep slope in this one part for some reason. Maybe it was the wind and dirt that pushed the fence inward.

Taking a deep breath she started to run down the slope, but she was going to fast so she dug her heel in the fence to stop herself. But that only made her go faster in the arena. The ground was coming closer to her, she was at such an angle that her bottom fell on the fence. The pain from splinters digging into her made her cry out as her feet landed on the ground. But the momentum from the speed made her fall forward, banging her cheek on the hard ground. Yumi pushed herself up into a crouch, rubbing her cheek. As her dirty hand touch her cheek she felt something warm and wet. Curious to what this feeling was, she took both of her hands and touched both cheeks. They were tears. Yumi stood up and wiped her tears away as she looked at the area around her. Everything looked dead, it was a sad sight to behold upon, and deep down Yumi wished she could have done something to save those trees, grasses, and the earth.

Yumi pushed herself to keep moving, it was too late to turn back now. Her body was shaking more then ever, and now she realized it was fear she saw a dark figure in front of her. He was wielding a scythe, Yumi thought only the Reaper Death wielded a scythe. Her cleric elders often told her about a dark being name Death, but could this be The Death she learned to fear over years? Oh how Yumi prayed it wasn’t, the mere sight of him made her stop in her tracks. Yumi took a small bow and backed away a bit, there wasn’t a chance she could live if this was the Death she heard stories about. She glanced at his scythe and knew that since he was her opponent, she would have to face the wrath of his scythe.