Mission AssignmentShow
The cloaked man stood beneath a lonely smattering of sparse, withered trees as he spoke quietly, his prayers reaching just over the snapping of dry timber. A small fire burned in the pale morning light. It hungrily accepted the small, insignificant offerings of peeled bark and rotted wood, its ever hungry mouth devouring everything in its path with the greed of a starving wanderer.
Always feasting. Always destroying. Never tiring. Never satisfied.
These were Hikotsu's tenants; his creed. Agni was always demanding more of him, no matter how many offerings he presented as tribute. He wondered if those who had succumbed so easily to his flames tasted worse than those who defied him and died kicking and screaming. The thought had always tickled the back of his mind, but it made no difference.
Flesh was flesh and death was death. Agni needn't discriminate. Patronage was always offered, no matter the beauty of the kill or the worth of the sacrifice. Like fire, Agni simply wanted to be fed. And Hikotsu was more than happy to comply.
"Should I fail, allow my soul passage into the Great Furnace as tribute to your sanctity. Should I succeed, accept my offering with open arms and gnashing teeth. Should my faith waiver, send unto me a sign of your will and I shall heed its call."
A small village, barely visible within the morning's grasp, began to stir. Small lights winked into existence as its citizens awoke to toil in the day's labors. None of them comprehending the undying harm lurking nearby.
Sunken, hazel eyes grew from the cowl's darkness as Hikotsu stared through the fire as one would read a holy scripture. "Take mercy on those who do not understand the cause. For they have not seen."
With that, the Missing Ninja passed his hand through the flame. Its fangs bit deep into his worn and scarred skin, but the pain was necessary. He welcomed the fire's embrace, and it the same. After a brief moment Hikotsu drew back his hand and clenched it tightly, forcing his new wounds to meet and cry out to Agni together in a bittersweet symphony only he could find the beauty in.
After completing the Ritual of Offering, the man swept his cloak over the burning timber and snuffed the life from it in an instant. This represented how quickly all life met its end, specifically those who were to become sacrifices for his God.
Without another word the man began making his way towards the village, a vanguard of destruction in the bleak dessert light.
