It had been quite some time that the little spider had uncovered the workings of the most basic Fuinjutsu technique once offered by her Creator, Sero Osada. The technique had been placed onto the kunai she had been given, which he requested to observe and learn. During her soaking in the healing baths, the spider-nin had discovered she could do more with her chakra than just change shape. She had infused Sero's healing waters with her chakra and picked up the beginnings of controlling one of her natural enemies in such a way - the waters would now do her bidding. After that, she had tried to infuse a variety of things with her chakra, but those did not exactly produce the same result. Only the sealing technique, drawn on paper and infused with her chakra seemed to cause an unexpected occurrence. Her kunai, which laid next to her as it served as the example of the drawing, had disappeared with a poof, leaving the spider-nin behind by her own, quite annoyed that the object serving as a memory of her first contact with Sero, as a reminder her of a solemn promise, and as the first puzzle to solve as a human, was now gone. With a cold glare and unwavering devotion, she had done everything she could do recover it from the scroll until exhaustion had overtaken her.
But that was back then. She remembered the words Sero had left her before he vanished in thin air. Once she could draw the symbol, she had to seek him out again, and as such this was exactly what she was doing at this very instant. Roaming the manor, Haka decided to try out the first place where she had met him in hopes to find back her Creator and ask him to teach her more. Preferably, a lot more, as she found this symbol-magic to be highly intriguing. She truly wondered what more could be achieved with it. Were there other symbols? If so, what happened if she were to use chakra in combination with those symbols? Could she disappear like Sero did? Could she make others disappear? Only one man could give her the answers now. However, if her Creator was not to be found within the library, she would move towards the top floor, to his throne room and see if he was there. Unfortunately, Haka had to conclude the man was not present and thus decided to return to the library. When they had met, Sero had been occupied with the books it contained. Since she had yet to figure out what these books exactly held as information and expected it to be another of the humane things to do, she wandered into the library.
The cold grey stone that made up most of the manor was just as present here, its dull colour only broken by two things. On one end of the room on the smaller wall, fresco artistry depicted a massive scene of war from an eagle's perspective. From above the warring troops, dark ominous clouds had gathered, giving the upper edge of the picture a deep grey border before it slowly mingled with the midnight blue, flagrant red and bright orange of a dying sun before finally dredging through the rusty brown and murky greys of a terrorised ground upon which the hundreds of people were fighting, each of them wearing a customised armour and and likewise weapons. As the front lines clashed, dead bodies were subtly hidden under those who would follow in their wake, expressing the adversity of the situation and as a subtle hint to the price wars always ended up paying. Behind the front line warriors stood their leaders, the colours used to depict them giving off a subtle air of authority as they pointed their finger in command or waved their arms to bolster lingering troops behind them.
When Haka approached to take a look at the details, the picture that had first seemed rather general in its depiction of a war turned out to be far more gruesome than expected. Blades clearly slashed open unprotected stomachs, arrows pierced eyes, throats and other unprotected spots, spears displayed those who had failed to guard themselves against the onslaught. Blood sprayed around as arms were decapitated, and intestines were revealed from the bodies cloven in twain. The bodies of the dead, painted a dull grey to denote their loss of life force, sported bashed in skulls, maimed faces and the marks of hooves and burn wounds alike. The weapons of war - the claws of men - and the armours were painted with such eye for detail they seemed impossibly real knowing the difficulty of fresco artistry. From this close, the scenery of war seemed to breath life by itself, the heat of battle almost tangible as it exhumed the subtle, lingering scent of natural decay.
The whole event was painted perfectly between the bookcases lined up against the other walls, the dark wood from which they were made remaining subtly in the background to leave all glory to the fresco, and blending in perfectly with the dark grey of Iwagakure's stones which gave shape to the manor in general. Every plank, from top to bottom, was filled with books and scrolls, the possible monotonous set-up of library books broken only by a regular horizontal piling of books and the occasional book holder keeping everything in place as it solemnly guarded the entire plank where it had been placed.
The whole room was filled as such, one bookcase neatly placed against the next until it hit one of the unbelievably long windows that were heavily coated in absurdly thick, long curtains. Much like the books, the curtains showed their general disuse and prolonged stand-still by the tiny holes formed within the textile by eager moths, dust richly clouding sight at the slightest of touch in hopes to prevent prying eyes from taking a look at the stained glassed windows behind them. Though a thick smear of dirt on the outside prevented most light from filtering inside, sharp eyes could still recognise small depictions of massacre and war that related the windows' art to that of the fresco, completing the violent theme which contrasted the library's otherwise quiet aspiration of intellectual sovereignty.
On the other end, as if to balance the violence of the fresco, an obsidian hearth awaited the warm touch of its master. Chiselled to perfection, it was guarded by two black spiders crawling up the sides, ruby eyes glistening dully as they watched those in front of the stone. Inside the hearth, a thin layer of ash and dust laid scattered within the mouth, forgotten even by the wind softly howling through the chimney. Thick spider webbing, unexpectedly still fresh, had cluttered up the only remaining way to find a connection with the outside world, its owners preventing the use of the hearth all together as they still lurked both within the webbing and the shadows alike.
The only thing within the room that betrayed a hint of use was the lonely desk holding a halfway burned up candle, a few books and a bundle of forgotten scrolls. It was there that Haka had found Sero for the first time, bend over one of his countless books to read the secrets scribbled on its pages. With quiet step and gaze set on nothing in particular, the spider-nin now moved closer to take a peek at what the book could have been talking about. Flipping through the pages without a concern at being scolded for disrupting Sero's reading progress, the spider-nin eyed the various patterns that had been drawn within it - patterns she registered as Fuinjutsu seals, even though she could not precisely say what they did.
1308
Home
![[Contract] A World Unsealed [Private] Empty](https://2img.net/i/empty.gif)
[Contract] A World Unsealed [Private] Tue Mar 06, 2018 2:00 pm
![[Contract] A World Unsealed [Private] Left_bar_bleue](https://2img.net/i/fa/i/left_bar_bleue.jpg){kind=small}
![[Contract] A World Unsealed [Private] Empty_bar_bleue](https://2img.net/i/fa/i/empty_bar_bleue.jpg){kind=small}
Hokage: 
Kazekage: 
Raikage: 
Tsuchikage: 
Mizukage: 