The power of a clan can be measured in many ways, there are those that hold political power, those that hold wealth or land and there are that that hold power in its bloodline, and the Ishiguro possessed a power unseen even on the continent.
The ability to essentially nullify what could be considered the essence of life, stop the flow of energy, natural or controlled. The Ishiguro wielded to ability to cancel chakra.
A power which nature laid in stopping all other power.
A people as old as the mountain on which their mighty tower now stood.
Tapestries hung in the various floors and gangways of the structure and told stories of how their forefathers used their secrets technique as some of the first among men to fight the spirits that once ruled their world.
A proud, modest, and loyal people that had sworn their servitude to the Empire, and the Kages before it.
Damons sought out power as long as he could remember, after the death of his father, after the death of his mother, after the death of his extended family, after the death of his comrades. Power was the only thing that could save him now. This was law of world in which he lived, those with power slayed those without it.
He continued to believed that the more power he would amass, the further he would remove himself from the fates that befell all those he had loved in the past, all those that hadent ammassed enough of it.
As a student, it wasn't until he realised the potential of the Ishiguro bloodline in himself that he first understood, really understood power. To know he could force his own power onto the power of others.
As a Genin, it was this very unique ability that often allowed his team to emerge victorious in otherwise unfavorable situations.
Yet Damon struggled against the origin of the blood in his veins, the abilities it gifted him. And those that now wanted to control him and the power he had amassed so far out in the North.
He despised the Ishiguro, he despised how their blind loyalty killed his father, he despised how their strict codes and ethics drove his mother into madness, he despised that they let her leave the village, and he hated that their power didn't save her during that fateful night in the mountains.
It had taken even more death and more sorrow for him to leave his home at the frontier of the Empire and make a return to this despicable place, these despicable people. He might be smiling at their kindness, he thanked their well wishes, he ate the food, drank their beverages, slept in the bed provided to him by them, but in his gut he hated these people.
He kept up the charade of familial bonds because, and this was more important than anything else, it would grant him power.
Today was one of those days where this yearning would be quenched, even if only partially.
He had been pleading to be aided in expanding his pool of techniques and was told to come to one of the in-house training courts to be assigned a partner that had already mastered the five basic techniques that made up the fundament of all the more advanced Denjiton ninjutsu techniques. Damon currently knew two and was keen to extend his arsenal.
The Chunin was dressed rather traditionally today. He donned no mask and no hood, only his ninja headband strapped to his forehead. A bland dark grey long-sleeved kimono wrapped around his frame, his typical hakama pants pulled up to his belly.
He stood in a large marble hall, layered with tatami mats in the middle, some training dummies, relevant equipment, and a weapons rack adorned the walls and at the back was a collection of cushions to meditate on after a hard day's training, as was the Ishiguro way.
His palms were sweaty, and he was annoyed about his own nervousness. He was practicing the hand signs for the “~Weaken” technique; he had tried it a few times out on missions but hadn't yet successfully pulled it off. It wasn't that he didn't have the right amount of control; it was that the jutsu felt foreign in its execution compared to the techniques he currently mastered.
Strange how he felt more accustomed, more natural at summoning creatures from other worlds, and hearing the voice through the veil than wielding the nature of the very chakra that ran through his veins.
He repeated it over and over, letting slight bright orange hues of chakra sizzle across his arms but never fully expanding the jutsu as he waited for his training partner.
WordcountShow
809