Author's Note: Agni's the name of the god of fire in hinduism. Apt considering he was the flame sword of the two devil arm Agni and Rudra. I broadened the idea a bit, but this is soley Agni-centric drabble of sorts. (talking swords need love too ya know: ) For now it's a one shot, may or may not continue, but that's totally dependent on the muse of ideas and sudden flashes of inspiration. Enjoy!
Hang on a moment...lemme check my savings account...nope still not an owner of the DMC franchise...dang-nab-it, there goes the theme park idea.
We were as gods, reborn century after century, a new kindle to summon back old fire. And it was the fire I was born from, as elemental as any being of our nature. They worshipped us once, thousands of humans now long dead, their blood ashes. Their bones nothing more than unrecognizable debris, and yes they worshipped me. Fire god they called me. I reveled in their offerings. Old widows whose husband had died, their eyes looking to the curling smoke in the sky as the scent of their flesh permeated the air. It was the death of my strength when they sacrificed themselves, but it was woman flesh, who would complain about the trade? Even then few humans understood the reality of their gods.
The humans sought life eternal through their ancient Vedic texts, they described me in the beginning as their sacrificial fire. I razed their lands, burning all in my wake, I took as I desired and they worshipped me for it. My name was on their tongues in times of need. These little insects that scurried and bowed before beings so much greater than themselves, they were mine, and I was their god. They would accept few others as their living god. I was a part of their salvation through the long dark night.
Time sweeps by, trickling in through the gears and cogs of this place, carrying with it the scent of a changing world, alive and overrun with the insect 'man' now. Once again, I rekindle the memory of when they first built this tower, when I was summoned from my worshipers in the east to serve a new god. A greater god, one who claimed my people for his own, the memory of my beginnings smothered under the other ideas of a darker god rich in power. It was that same destroyer god who fell victim under the blade of another, a knight, and it was then, I knew regret. Or I thought I did. Now...now...I believe I understand...but my strength is failing me. My strength departed, I fear I'm losing my mind to this prison.
Even before these walls were sealed into place, the air stagnant and unmoving. Before dust came to settle, coating every surface of this place. Evan as I was left here, my wits slowly descending into madness aside my babbling twin, I remember those people. The beauty of their voices as they raised up in worship. It wasn't that Sparda fought for them, it was that he had the cruelty to lock me away from them. Who will purify their sacrifices? Who will they worship? I am a god. I am their god. And yet, even I have fallen. This place is so quite, save for the sounds of demons and my brother's incoherent babbling.
Ages stream by, one after another, the sounds of man slowly fade away, and I am left with nothing but a small room and the hope that somewhere, beyond these walls, my people praise still. That they sing still. Is it too much to hope they sing my name? 'Agni. Agni.' They called to me, burning their sacrifices under the command of another. 'Agni!' In giving me a name, they strengthened me, formed me. They recreated me in way no other demon has. Agni. I am Agni. I am the purifying fire of life. I am a demon of fire and I consume all. I devour, break, and tear. I am a demon god. Agni. Agni. My people, I consume your flesh to maintain the strength you're human name has given me. And now we are parted. My people, my people, I hunger. Though I was born of hell, never did I truly grasp it's design until now