Unbound, unbent, unbroken [Private/Training topic]

[Myakashi Migoya]

The weight of age fell upon Migoya’s shoulders as the last of the vicious tendrils was removed, returning the once immortal Myakashi to that of a ‘normal’ mortal once again.

Having the thought of eternal life before him secretly terrified Migoya. His own children had grown up around him as he had remained looking the same age. What people thought was a blessing turned out to be a curse as those you loved withered away in front of you. All you kept were the memories, and most memories are hollow, painful and confusing. Indeed, he had gathered several lifetimes of knowledge, but with that knowledge came a yearning for simplicity.

It had taken some time to locate someone who was capable of reversing the insidious Earth Grudge Fear curse placed on him, but one has found in a small hamlet in the Land of Wind. There was many things that needed to be planned, but once he had ensured the safety of his clan in the mountains of Moon country he could now be a little more… selfish.

“The last of the tendrils are removed, Migoya-san,” The strange witch-doctor stated in a whisper. “From now on however you will need to draw on the power of your seal to survive and sustain you. I would recommend that you perhaps transplant your soul into another receptacle when the time is right. For a small fee I can arrange…”

“No - this is fine, for now”, Migoya responded, knowing full well that he could create his own clones in the future and in fact had done so year previously and the form he was now entering was one such creation. He could feel the pulsing of the chakra seal that now stood in the center of his chest where his heart (well, hearts) once beat, knowing that it would resemble a ‘normal’ person’s heart, so his true nature would not be easily revealed.

Looking down at his hand, he saw the complexity of the human form - the removal of those tendrils had given back to him the opportunity for revenge, this time with a very real chance of death.

Death though would be his tool this time.

WC: 365

 

[Myakashi Migoya]

It was a conscious choice to move away from the light to seek understanding in the darkness.

The desert was freezing at this, the apex of the moon as Migoya walked slowly over the sand dunes, the silence of the moment not lost in the soul of this dark figure.

It concerned Migoya that he had such hatred for a man he knew little of, an almost irrational distaste for a figurehead who probably was trying to steer a sinking ship. Still, Takeshi had discounted him, insulted him, and caused his family harm and such things could not go unpunished. The others though - those who had killed children, and placing the blame on him for promoting a coup.

They would receive no reprieve.

His black hood flapped in the wind as it carried loose sand across the barren landscape. Small buildings were sighted in the distance and it was to this place that Migoya was drawn.

During the quiet times Migoya would often muse about why he did what he did. Did he seek power and authority? Was it to ease his own inflated ego? Was it to prove something? Perhaps it was all of those, but truth be told he wanted revenge. Revenge for slandering his name and causing his family to go into hiding, simply because he spoke the truth. Tyrants were well and good until they forgot their place and let rabid dogs off their leashes. Those dogs needed to be put down, and unless Takeshi surrendered, his fate would follow them.

Revenge against a system that had forced him to become a killer, then challenged him when he fought back against it.

His musing had led him to a strange concentration of dark energy, normally reserved for places of great sadness or despair. His upcoming confrontation would require him to tap into these reserves for it would be a fight of the ages should Takeshi fail to step down and surrender his child-killing charges. He hoped there would be no other casualties, but war was war.

Something made him stop on the outskirts of the strange village - a noise, a voice. So quiet yet so cold as it seeped into his own soul. But it was no voice, but a feeling of dread. Something… bad had happened here, beyond the norm. There were no voices, no sounds of activity that would denote life within the village. The concentration of dark energy was clearly created here but… oh.

Corpses. Corpses of villagers everywhere, cut by an experts blade and left to burn in the sun. Skin was pulled back from rictus faces that had once held smiles, but now only held haunted memories.

Migoya knelt down to look into one of those faces. A wave of his hand brought forth the poor victims soul, the pain of his death etched forever on his face. The arts of the Dark Sage enabled the manipulation of such things, but for now all Migoya wanted was information.

“Tell me. Tell me what happened here?”
MFT: 504