In My Own World [T]
Jun 17, 2018 5:59:47 GMT -7
Post by Natsy on Jun 17, 2018 5:59:47 GMT -7
//Enter
The soft moonlight cast a warm glow over the village on this chilly night. Stars dotted the sky like thousands of fireflies covering a field. I could see the milky way galaxy looming in those stars and the sight was actually breathtaking. Despite it was a chilly night, I did not feel cold. In fact, I felt troubled. My mind refused to dispel this thought that consumed my mind ever since that afternoon.
I round a corner, stepping off the main village street and entered into a small alcove approximately twenty minutes away from my home in the village. I was not going home, no. I was moving restlessly toward the field behind my estate so that I could train in peace. The thought that continued to bother me needed to be hung out to dry. Now, perhaps you must be wondering what my thought is; well a few days ago I had met someone in the village and we had fought briefly in the form of a wager.
Now, I will not go into the details of the fight. Instead, what bothered me aside from losing said fight, was the fact that once he had me bound, I could not perform any seals to defend myself in combat. I could have easily crystalised the bastard.. If only I could have performed my handseals. I stop walking, pausing in the middle of the street and glanced down at my hands. I wanted to negate the usage of handseals and enhance my fighting ability by cutting down the time-consuming handseals.
Years ago, I recalled the four Kamyuja - my mother included - using one-handed handseals in order to bind me against my will before storing me beneath the ground for one hundred years. I watched her as she moved gracefully through those everyday handseals with one hand while holding a scroll in the other. I wanted to learn how to do that. But how? I knew all twelve handseals; they are taught to all ninja at the academy. And my mother’s one-handed seals looked like half of a handseal.
Moving again, I reach my estate in less than five minutes and cross the lawn out to the field I had mentioned earlier. The wind picked up my hair and tickled the little hairs on the back of my neck causing me to shiver. I sit down in the centre of the field cross legged and once again stared down at my hands, recalling my mother’s movements as I did so. I will never forget that day, not for as long as I live. So if she could use one handed handseals, then I will too…..