» MEMENTO mori {kaykay}

The path twisted and wound beneath her hooves like a living thing, just barely visible through the undergrowth that had sprawled across it in disuse. Not many had crossed this way in recent years, it seemed, and were it not for the imposing figures of mountains on either side, crowding in close in stiff peaks like ancient sentinels, she might have lost the trail altogether. The light was fading fast in the swift-encroaching dusk, the sky overhead streaked with fiery hues of red, orange, and purple, but still she moved along the trail as though drawn towards its destination by some unseen bidding. It was said that around here lay the path to the Arena that lay nestled in the mountainous regions around Sayalegar, but this was the first time that the silver maiden had sought out that half-hidden path to see it for herself.

The trail came to an abrupt dead end suddenly, but her keen gaze picked out its continuation several yards ahead, its access blocked by the withering remains of a tree trunk, blackened and blasted by lightning, that had fallen across the road. A slight snort of irritation escaped from her nostrils, but the impediment did not delay her for long. Carefully measuring out the distance in her mind's eye, the slim, lithe femme backed up a few steps, then resolutely gathered her legs beneath her and cleared the tree trunk in a light, bounding leap. As though she would let something like a mere stump block the way between her and her destination.

It was true that she had no particular reason to be in the Arena now. Grimoire Heart did not intend to fight anybody just yet, nor did she intend to personally get her hooves dirty even in the event of a, shall we say, disagreement with anyone. But still, she was undeniably curious to see the place where so many had fought, shed blood, and even laid down their lives, and in the meantime nothing more exciting presented itself as a distraction for her. Exploring the area around her self-proclaimed residence of Sayalegar could hardly hurt, now could it?

At last the mountainous path sloped steeply upward and wound its way into more precipitous terrain, and before long it suddenly opened up into the long-disused Arena. Not even a fool would mistake it for anything other than what it was, a ringed-in battleground walled by sheer rock, accessible only by one route as though specially carved out for this express purpose. Just as she laid eyes upon the place, the last dying embers of the sun threw a brilliant red fresco over the eastern face of the stone walls, and for a moment the Arena was bright and bloody once more.