CHAPTER 0:
In the far southern desert, a land marked by the harsh light of the sun, a slender young man rested between the small bands of shade in the deep desert of the Land of Wind. His bright green eyes flickered across the pages of a book, his short brown hair covered in a light shawl to protect his face from the grinding desert sun. His face brimmed with curiosity as he flipped through the pages of the ominous book, his legs swinging back and forth in the air as he did so; it was a small habit of his. "The Book of the Blood Dragon Eye." It was an interesting book, to say the least. Inscribed in it were several techniques and mystical powers only possible through the power of the "Ketsuryūgan", the "Blood Dragon Eye". He had found it while snooping around in his mother's room some time ago.
The Brunet wondered why such a book was in her possession, but he didn't complain, it was an engrossing book. He also made sure to hide the book from his mother lest he feel her wrath. If she found out he was snooping around her room, he was sure she'd never forgive him. Satisfied with his reading, the youngster rose from his lying position and stashed the book in his bag, setting off to his home. The Sha tribe was a small group that was largely unknown to the rest of the world. They inhabited a small village built around an oasis located near the outskirts of Sunagakure; one of the four Hidden Villages. The Sha tribe prided themselves on their mastery of the sand and its navigation through the stars.
The young man; Misaki, was skipping through the roads of the village, his steps scattering sand as he traveled. It was an ordinary day for the Sha tribe, the village was bustling with conversation. The tribe was a small one, which meant that everybody knew each other. Due to this, rumors spread quickly in the village. Lately, a rumor that the village chief had refused a choice to convert from a group called "The Children of the Desert". Some feared they would be attacked, but Misaki paid it no mind. It would soon be forgotten, just like all rumors eventually were. As the sun set and the sky turned from a warm blue to a cold dark, the members of the tribe settled in one by one for a starry night.
As the night continued, the calm quiet of the dunes was shattered by the roar of thunder. An enormous bolt of lightning descended from the heavens, striking the chief's building and dismantling it instantly. The remaining electricity from the bolt rippled throughout the rest of the village, leaving it in ruins. Amidst the rubble of the destroyed habitat, the remaining males of the tribe climbed out and armed themselves to face the threat that ravaged their homes. Cloaked individuals wearing the insignia of the Children of the Desert dashed into the remnants of the village, engaging in combat with the surviving inhabitants. Misaki was trapped under rubble. The stone blocked out his vision, he could only hear sounds of crackling fire and clashing blades.
As time passed he could feel some of the rubble being lifted. He was being set free! But by who? His heart rate slowly sped up as the rubble was lifted up only to return to normal. It was his mother. "Misaki!", the woman bellowed, her voice laced with fear, "We need to leave-" the brunette's words were abruptly cut off. Blud spurted from her mouth, a blade had been driven through her neck. Life slowly faded from her eyes as she fell into her son's arms.
Misaki's eyes widened as he caught his mother's cold body. At first, he denied it. There was no way. This couldn't be real. He was just going through a nightmare, he would wake up soon. Right? Though her body's cold touch reminded him how real this was. Time seemed to slow down for the boy as the blood from his mother's wound stained his clothes. Tears upon tears profusely poured from his eyes as he felt his loved one pass away. The woman who gave him psychological support and empathy, the one who taught him moral values, was gone. Every birthday, every memory he shared with his mother flashed through his mind. His heart ached.
All the sorrow, despair, misery, and anguish boiled up within the boy, all contributing to one overwhelming emotion: anger. The tribesman rose up his head, his pupils dilated as he gazed into the soul of his mother's assailant. His breaths became more animalistic and his face contorted with bitterness and rage. As the light in his mother's eyes finally went out, a new light in Misaki's eyes awakened.
The world bled as the boy roared. The blood from his mother's wound formed into the shape of an arm that grabbed the assailant's neck, crushing their windpipe. His gleaming red eyes darted around his destroyed home, spotting the last few remaining tribesmen of his tribe being killed by the cloaked figures. With a new lust for blood, the boy raised both of his hands into the air, the blood from the wounds of his people rose and gathered around him in a swirl.
Letting out a scream that shook the skies, he thrusted his hands forward, commanding the gathered blood to dismantle his enemies. Waves of blood crashed into the slayers of his village. Many were damaged, but none were killed. With the boy's limited experience in combat, it was only a matter of time before he too, fell. Several arrows struck his body, flames scorched his body, and blades gouged through his flesh. After the rush of adrenaline faded, Misaki fell, unable to keep standing after the grievous injuries he sustained.