Tiny lines cracked into existence. Thin wandering lines, coursing along tiny imperfections to form glass squares. The floor, if that is what it could be called, was little more than a two centimetre thick layer of cloudy red glass. The remnants of when the volcano had once been active and the falling sand blown into the crater melted again he burning rock. The lava had retreated many years ago and left the obsidian sheath as a cover for a long drop into darkness.

Talen let his foot fall lightly on the surface under the accompaniment of a glass cracking quartet. Such a situation would bring most men fear, but the youth was different. His movements were relaxed, easy even. His body held with a certain grace and elegance that seemed at odds with his slightly dishevelled appearance. The youth finished his journey when he reached one of the rock pillars that supported the giant glass cover. Not all the lava had retreated, some of a slightly denser constitution had cooled enough to form the rocky supports that were haphazardly spaced around. Behind Talen his trail was clearly visible with each foot step leaving a mosaic of cracks.

The youth let out a sigh, half of relief and half of enjoyment. His mattered hair hung down around his face, between which his pale blue eyes peered out. They moved around, not brash or rushed, but consistently. Talen was searching for something. It could be considered truth, or perhaps god even. He knew he would recognise it when he saw it. His calm serenity was nearly permeable as it radiated outwards. It was the mentality of someone climbing a flight of steps. One does not worry about each individual step, rather one focuses on the flight as a whole. So to then did Talen see this fight as a step towards his goal.

There were a few things that Talen had gleamed from the arena. First that the walls of the crater would be nearly impossible for someone to scale. They were mostly dirt with some rock thrown in for good measure. Climbing up the side would involve a lot of digging and the constant threat of falling back into the crater. This brought him to the second fact. The glass would not hold anyone determined on performing wildly acrobatic feats unless they ensured the force of jumping and landing was on the stone pillars. Given the nature of how they were spread out that seemed unlikely. These two things Talen knew, but there were two more that he did not. The glass was filled with imperfections that caused it to crack into small squares. This meant that rather than shattering the whole thing it would instead break off in chunks. The second thing was what lay under the glass. The volcanic remnants was carbon dioxide. The gas was not enough to kill someone outright with a single inhale, but it would clause anyone too close to the holes to feel some disorientation.

Talen did little else them but wait. His arms folded over the front of his black shirt and his legs spaced slightly apart. The blue sky was a contrast to the brown sides of the crater. The sun hung lazily just off noon and was masked slightly by clouds. It was a winter sun, bright but not producing much heat. With nothing else to do Talen did what he was good at. He waited and watched.