Tales of a Ninja Magician: Of Games of Body and Soul

The Unobtainable Crosswords

Weak lights flickered in a dark room of a castle located somewhere deep in the eastern Land of Fire. An old pile of bricks and pretty much nothing else. Every other piece of material was located on the inside and could have been considered a luxury. The stony collection of repulsive walls and brutish teeth of cinderblocks was located in a pocket surrounded by forested mountains. The natural contrast of highs and lows allowed the castle the small luxury of camouflage to an overseeing eye that knew not exactly what it was looking for and where.

Just about the only parts of the castle with any soul to them were the bird statues decorating just about any crevice or corner that the lazy architect managed to stuff them into. Griffons on the frontal towers, magpies littering the ramparts, and a six-winged vulture proudly displayed its preying nature while the claws of its four frontal legs served as a portcullis protecting the entrance.

The castle interior was a little more welcoming. A carpet of red and gold rested on most pathways and corridors, even those in the lower, endless dungeon labyrinths. Even the rooms each had a square cut-out of the red and gold carpet placed in the center whereas in every pathway the covering bled freely. A young man ventured through the corridors, meeting no servants or guards beside the inhospitable exterior of the structure and the slightly creepy landscape, devoid of any fauna usually inhibiting the areas of southern Land of Fire.

Jagaimo stepped under a doorway leading into faintly lit bedroom even by the standards of the stony fort that lacked any lighting save for the few torches and candles and the natural sunlight that at times found a crack to bleed through inside the fortifications. The young man wanted to wait for the owner of the castle to show themselves, his heart was thumping the whole time, damn... He couldn't help it, if he was to die in the most horrific way possible, he may as well have gotten it over with.

"I failed. We didn't get the confirmation but a whole week after the Summit and... Nothing. The ninja system is still kicking." Jagaimo spoke up.

A pair of red stars lit up in the farther corners of the room, breaking through not only the shadows that the owner of said lights rested in but also the shroud that covered the bed that he was sitting on. Jagaimo could hear long and bony legs slipping out from under silken covers, a suede coat moving up the long and drained, skeletal body while a pale finger bent out from the shade and into the beam of sunlight coming through one of the openings to the outside. Nothing but a murder hole to fire arrows through.

A tiny magpie landed onto the edge of the murder hole, the little cutest thing bent its head about in infinite curiosity of the two, crimson twinkles in the shadowy contrast of the sunny day that the bird was enjoying beforehand. It was like two bloody rubies, the bird's favorite and as of yet unclaimed treasure. The little thing hopped forward, flapping its little wings just a couple of times as the distance between the murder hole and the elongated, bony finger was covered in a single bound.

"Oh well..." an eerie, cadaverous face turned right at Jagaimo, as the gleaming, ruby eyes penetrated him with but their gaze, the young man froze in fear. "Our takeover was never to be a peaceful one..."

A chill ran down Jagaimo's back while he saw the magpie blast through the murder hole with all its tiny might. The absolute horror emanating from the awakened Bird of Death, the owner of this castle, was mightier than any instincts or desires that the magpie may have fostered. Until the day of its end, it would never crave for anything else ever again because it had faced true horror and swooped away from its clutch with its life.

The Kirigakure street rat had counted on dying, dying quickly after having failed this man would have almost been preferable to living in his servitude and debt for years on end. Dying... Dying just so that this crappy feeling of standing in this man's presence could end... No. Sadly, unless Jagaimo managed to obtain the guts needed to let his own slip out all over the fancy carpet and the cold, stone floor, he'd be doomed to live as long as the Bird of Death has some use of him.