• Kirisaki opened the door to his private "shrine", which was more a prison than a place of worship. This wa where his private escort of "Red Gaurdians", highly trained (and paid) ninjas, took him every day at nightfall and accompanied him from every morning at sunrise. He walked to his cot in the far corner of the one-room cell, curling up in his kimono and shivering in the cold winter air. He bagan to think about what Water had said. she had said that he would "come to fruition" sometime soon. He had seen twelve Winters, and would soon have thirteen. he could remember doing strange things in the recent past, growing in frequency. The time he had somehow knocked down a city wall by stumbling into it when gaurds were chasing him. Also the time when a black ball of energy had formed in his palm when he had gotten so angry at the people taunting him. But worst of all was the time he had woken up; naked and bloodstained, to a scene of total carnage in the small fishing village he had grown up in, where EVERY ONE of the inhabitants lie dead at HIS feet. there was no wound on his body, but the sheer amount of blood was enough to paint the entire sea red for miles. He had been put in here by the order of the Emporer himself, and he was almost thankfull... WOULD have been thankfull had it not been for the maltreatment and lack of freedom. Besides that, he could feel something harsh and evil growing inside him... something that aged with him and wanted very, very badly to get out again and ravage the land untill nothing remained...

    Zabuza knew something was up the minute he stapped into the tavern. there were no thugs, no thieves, hardly even a man with a boisterous look about him. they all drank... MODESTLY?!? these were men NOTHING LIKE those he was used to. all of them farmers or fisherman, perhaps a soldier or two. he bellowed out in as loud a voice as his sixteen year old wiry frame could manage: "BARKEEEEP!!!!". He was answered moments later by a man in his upper forties, balding and thin, who asked in a meek voice "can i help you, son?" "yeah." said Zabuza. "why is everyone here so scared-lookin'? you got some kinda problem?" the old man replied "well... the Demon's not so much a problem anymore... but He's still out there, locked up at night so he cant harm any more people. the Red Gaurdians see to that." "Red Gaurdians?!? Geez, geezer, you must have one helluva problem, and one BIG paycheck here." he said with a hungry look in his eye. "tell you what, geezer. i can get rid of the problem for you... permanantly. Im a warrior-priest. In my prime!". The old man simply shook his head sadly. "There have been severall priests tried to kill that demon. All of them dead now." "Im different." Zabuza pointed out. "im descended directly from the line of the first priest, AND the most powerfull warrior line in the land.". The tavern keeper said "you're welcome to try to kill it... if you can, i would gladly pay you a grand sum. But you wont. You'll die like all the others." " you just watch." said Zabuza, his voice laden with menace. "Ill kill that demon for you, no problem whatsoever.". And with that, he walked out of the bar, hefting the long staff he had brought in with him like it was a spear. He walked outside, grinning to himself. This would be easy, he had killed countless small demons, even a powerfull Oni- an Ogre! this was probably just an overreacting village idiot who would lose all his money to Zabuza, as had happened in countless other places. He smiled again, and set out on the path that he sensed led him to the demon, drawing upon his surprisingly vast reserves of Wind-element magic power, something not many people had.