To this day, I don't know whether Noboru fought for me, decided I would cause less harm by leaving, or simply let me go because he couldn't stand the sight of me anymore.

Maybe he didn't want to confront the mistake he believed he'd made. I have my suspicions. I've learned, from a reliable source, that I was the last student he ever took. I blame myself for that.

As for the rest of the elders, I think I had just enough skill to make a convincing case to Konoha. Uzushio sent me instead of someone with more natural talent than my crude affinity.

In the end, I was chosen.

柱

10 — PILLARS

ON THE DAY IT WAS decided he would go to Konoha, Naruto had a bad fight with his mother.

It started like a small crack in the earth, an innocent disagreement about something entirely unrelated — the sort of rift that should have sealed itself up with time, as so many others before. But this one deepened, fast and violent, until it felt the ground the ground between them had split wide open; a chasm neither of them seemed willing to cross.

"—No," she said, her voice hard and final — more like how it should be, but at the worst possible moment. "You're not going."

Naruto stood across from her, barely five steps away, but the chasm was growing wider. His jaw tightened. "It's not your choice."

Her fingers twitched, and Naruto almost saw the ripple of chakra flare through her, a sharp warning. Both of them knew how dangerous it was for her. "You're not ready for this — You have no idea what you're walking into. The world will chew you up and spit you out."

"I won't be a kid forever!" Naruto shot back, his voice louder than he intended. "Not if I am to be a true shinobi. I will handle myself!"

"Not a kid…?" Her laughter was bitter, stinging. "And handle yourself? Do you think pigheadedness alone is going to get you through this cesspit? You don't know the world. You don't know Konoha either. You don't know how those people operate, what they'll expect from you."

Naruto's hands balled into fists. "...You're afraid. I think that's what this is about. Afraid I'll get hurt, or — what? That I'll be better off—" He almost bit his tongue to keep himself from finishing this sentence. And then, he took a long breath, trying to steady himself. "It doesn't matter. I have to go. I've been chosen. The elders—"

"I don't give a fuck what the elders think!" Kushina shouted, and her voice cracked, her chest heaving from the effort. "They don't get to decide this. You're my son. You belong here. Not there—!" She coughed and Naruto leaned forward, ready to support her, but she waved him away, her hand trembling as she reached for the towel beside her. She wiped the blood from her lips, and the towel vanished it.

Naruto flinched, more at the sight of her struggling than her words. He could see how sick she was, how frail, and it tore at him. But there was no choice. Never had been.

"I know what you did," she said, her voice softer now but no less sharp. "I know you too well not to. And I'm pretty sure I know who helped you."

Naruto swallowed the lump in his throat. "You're only assuming."

Kushina's eyes narrowed, and when she spoke again, there was no warmth in her tone — only bitterness. "It was a mistake. A terrible mistake."

His jaw clenched, the knot in his chest pulling tighter. "I didn't have a choice."

"Wrong." Her breath came in short, shallow gasps, but her words cut cleanly through the room. "You always have a choice, Naruto." She paused, the effort of speaking visibly and audibly wearing on her, but she pushed through, each word deliberate. "You chose this. You chose to leave, to leave everything you've ever known. To leave the only safe place there is. For what? For a village that doesn't deserve you—?"

To leave me.

"For you!" he shouted, his voice cracking under the weight of it. "That's the only reason I would ever do this! For you!"

The silence that followed felt heavy, pressing against his chest. Kushina's gaze didn't soften. If anything, her eyes hardened, glittering with something deeper, darker.

"Well, I think you're running away," she said bitterly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Just like Yasaka."

Naruto recoiled as if she'd slapped him. The accusation hit deeper than he wanted to admit. He forced himself to stand his ground, his hands trembling at his sides. "That's not true."

"Isn't it?" she rasped, her eyes narrowing. "I will die. That is true." She looked at him squarely. "...And I think I understand you two. It's easier to run from that than it is to stay, isn't it? You're like—"

"That's not true! I'm not running!" Naruto growled, the words ripping from him. His chest heaved, anger rising, mingled with something he refused to name — something more fragile than fury. "We can help you — I'm doing what I have to — For you. For all of us."

Kushina didn't flinch. Her expression didn't change. "…Yes, that's exactly what they would say." Her voice, on the other hand, dropped to a whisper, her gaze filled with a quiet, piercing sadness as she turned her head, no longer looking at him.

"And I'm sure you can almost believe it, too."

Feeling miserable for all the obvious reasons, Naruto left the house with a few scrolls and sealing supplies tucked under his arm. The familiar weight was oddly comforting, though it did little to settle the gnawing ache in his chest.

He wasn't entirely sure where to go. The list of people he actually wanted to see had quickly dwindled to almost nothing, leaving him alone with the hollow, sinking sensation. Besides, he would be leaving soon.

Leaving Uzushio — leaving this life behind — was beginning to feel slightly surreal.

The uncertainty he'd felt before had been bearable — at least then, the future was still a foggy blur, closer to mere possibility, something he didn't have to confront head-on. It wasn't so blurry anymore, so he focused on the practical side of things. He'd been told someone would contact him with the specifics of his departure soon.

Something didn't quite add up with what little he already knew, however. He didn't need to be an expert in geography to understand that much. Uzushio currently hovered over the Frostspire Ocean, its warmth sustained by heat seals. But if they were supposed to head north — so far north that they would pass the pole and eventually emerge in the south again, descending near the Red Sea to avoid the Land of Wind — then the islands' journey would take several more weeks.

There was no way they could reach anywhere close by tomorrow.

But perhaps it was not his place to question the methods in place. They undoubtedly had something. Naruto settled under a sprawling tree, its branches swaying softly overhead as he unrolled the first scroll.

The problem with learning about the outside world was that, aside from the vague and slightly outdated geopolitics texts one could dig up in the Library, real information was frustratingly scarce.

It was strange in a way, realizing how little he actually knew about the world beyond Uzushio. As though he'd never managed to learn that much, too caught up in his own problems. He sighed, eyes flicking across the scrolls, hoping to find something — anything — that might make the unknown feel a little less daunting.

The first scroll detailed a small, remote island off the coast of the Land of Waves. It was called Kiru-shima, and it was infamous for the strange fog there that never lifted, even on the brightest of days. Fishermen who traveled too close often spoke of hearing voices in the mist, whispers that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere all at once.

Another scroll mentioned a settlement high in the northern mountains, tucked away in a valley few ever visited. It wasn't marked on any map, only referred to in passing by traveling merchants. They called it Orohito — its people were said to have once been shinobi but they'd given up their warlike nature for something else, something unknown. It was said they could manipulate the seasons in their valley, altering the temperature, calling rains, even summoning a snowstorm in the middle of summer. And yet, no one had ever seen them do it.

Naruto flipped to another scroll. In this one he read about a forest, the kind that seemed to go on forever, where the trees grew so tall their tops disappeared into the sky. The Great Forest of Wakai, they called it, an untamed wilderness separating the humid Land of Rice Fields and the dry Land of Valleys. The forest was home to creatures most men (and shinobi) had never encountered — giant centipedes, large as horses, with fangs dripping venom. There were accounts of strange lights flickering deep in the woods at night, and of a forgotten temple hidden somewhere in its heart, but no one who ventured that far had ever returned.

One more scroll described a place that traded in secrets rather than coins. Hidden in the Land of Wind, this lair — known only as Kagechō, the Shadow Nest — was a sanctuary for spies, mercenaries, and informants. Those seeking information could find many things there for the right price, from a nation's political moves to the private lives of its daimyo. But the most valuable secrets weren't sold for gold or silver. Instead, Kagechō demanded something more intangible — a secret, or the promise of a favor yet unnamed.

Naruto set the scrolls aside and leaned back against the tree trunk, closing his eyes for a moment. There was too much out there, places he'd never even heard of, things that sounded so remote to his existence it felt like fiction. Things he could not manage to learn here, without the proper authorizations. It was fascinating… and it was suddenly overwhelming. A world too vast and too strange to fully comprehend.

And I'm about to step into it.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, and then continued to read. By the time noon came, he was so lost in his thoughts that he nearly missed the faint crunch of footsteps on the gravel path behind him.

Surprised, Naruto turned to find Shinpachi standing there. His expression was set in the same carefully neutral that had seemed slightly forced before but now felt hauntingly real. It gave him a timeless quality, as though he were not merely a boy still shy of ten years.

Naruto's gaze flickered to Shinpachi's ears, noticing for the first time the paper tags hanging from them. They were a new thing, and he definitely looked the part of the budding Sealweaver.

"Good morning," Shinpachi said.

Unsure what to make of this sudden visit, Naruto slowly raised a hand to wave. "Do you want to sit?"

Without answering, Shinpachi sat beside him, and the silence between them was as imposing as the midday sun. For a moment, Naruto wondered if the other boy had just come for company, nothing more. But that didn't feel like something Shinpachi would do — even less now.

After the silence fully set in, Shinpachi finally spoke, and his voice somehow sounded even more neutral than it had been just a week ago. "I brought some of my notes," he said. "You might need them."

"Notes?" Naruto asked. "What about?"

Shinpachi brought his long sleeves together. When he pulled them apart once more, he caught a falling scroll with a deft hand. He handed it to Naruto.

"Well, the sealing arts, of course," Shinpachi said, raising an eyebrow. "Now that you are a fellow Sealweaver, I am allowed to share such things."

Naruto blinked. It was rare for anyone in Uzushio to share sealing knowledge so freely, considering how dangerous advanced knowledge was widely considered to be, in a beginner's hands.

That much, he understood — now.

"…Thank you." Naruto said after clearing his throat, genuinely appreciative. After another glance toward Shinpachi, he began to leaf through the scroll, recognizing a few symbols here and there, but finding most of it beyond his current understanding.

Shinpachi gave him a peculiar look, his gaze scrutinizing Naruto in a way that made him feel exposed. "So it was true," Shinpachi said.

"What was true?" Naruto paused.

"Just a theory," Shinpachi added, his tone casual, though the veiled meaning hung in the air. His eyes narrowed slightly, but not in hostility — more like he was trying to solve a puzzle. "You didn't react when I said now. You weren't a Sealweaver before, were you? You just... became one."

Naruto hesitated, unsure how to respond. "…Is that some sort of rumor going around?" he asked, feeling slightly cold.

"No, nothing's going around," Shinpachi simply said. "I don't think it ever will, if it means anything to you."

"What is this about, then?"

"Simply that Karin was right, and you were like her, likely a sensor type," Shinpachi said, with a sad little smile. "…Of course she was."

Naruto didn't answer.

Shinpachi managed a little shrug. "Would you tell me about how you did it?" he asked, and Naruto remained silent. "I thought so."

Naruto carefully folded his own notes away. What he had in front of him was much more interesting than something he couldn't talk about anyway. Shinpachi leaned back and watched him in silence, the paper tags on his ears rustling softly in the breeze.

"My best guess," Shinpachi said, his voice lowering as though they were sharing something far more intimate than sealing knowledge, "is the following: you traded away something — something of greater value — to amplify a slight affinity that was already there. Perhaps you even did away with the rare combination Karin said you might have, and all that was left to show up on the test was the affinity you wanted. I will admit to not knowing which sort of scroll was used on the second Selection."

Naruto stiffened, feeling the truth of it strike far too close to home. He could tell Shinpachi was still mulling it over, the way his fingers drummed lightly against his leg. The precision of his mind had unnerved Naruto before, and it was never as clear as it was in moments like these.

"…All that, or something else… or perhaps both—?" Shinpachi paused, shaking his head slightly. "That would be such a waste. You might have even inherited your mother's—" He frowned, as if perplexed. "Well, all I know is that what you ended up with is far weaker than what it could've been. I wouldn't even have considered making that choice."

You never had to, Naruto thought bitterly. He resumed staring at a page he couldn't decipher, wondering if he was imagining the slight patterns of ink within certain symbols. Whatever he had thought the Sealweaving affinity would afford him, it wasn't seal-related omniscience.

"Say," Shinpachi said.

When Naruto turned again, he nearly froze. Shinpachi's eyes had lost their earlier trace of softness, replaced now with something colder, sharper. "Did you always intend to take Karin's role?" he asked.

Naruto tensed immediately. "That's not what this is about," he snapped, his voice harsher than intended. Shinpachi had always been blunt, but this felt different — personal. The last thing Naruto wanted to deal with was another fight. He felt as though he had been in too many of these verbal games, recently.

"And why not?" Shinpachi asked, with a dark glint in his eyes. "You willingly discarded something I am still unsure about — only that it had a high cost. Would anything else be too far…? It would be your only chance to leave for the foreseeable future, would it not? And the timing's rather convenient, isn't it? When the opportunity—"

"I did not want nor intend to take anyone's place," Naruto growled. "There was a void, that's it — a terrible hole she left when she died—" He took a deep breath to steady himself. "You are dead wrong with your insinuations. All I care about is leaving this place, that's true. But not at the cost of anyone else!"

The tension hung between them for a moment.

And then, Shinpachi seemingly found what he had been looking for in his eyes. His shoulders relaxed, and the cold edge in his gaze softened. "Good," he said, his tone evening out. "That's good, then." He turned back fully now. "You're not meant to replace her. No one is. People don't work that way."

The tension hadn't left Naruto the same way it had apparently left Shinpachi. There was something slightly abnormal about the other boy's emotional reactions (if one could call them 'emotional' at all), but he had always been that way.

They stayed in that uncomfortable silence for a while.

At some point, Shinpachi's gaze flicked toward the scrolls in Naruto's lap before meeting his eyes again. Calm once more, as though he hadn't just implied Naruto had let Karin die. "Considering everything," he said, "if I were you, I would start with learning the Eight Pillars of Sealing. They are the foundation. Without understanding them fully and how they relate to each other, you'll never grasp what truly makes Uzumaki Sealweaving so uniquely powerful."

"The Eight Pillars…?" Naruto asked, after taking a moment to steady himself. He had read many, many books about sealing, and still, he had never—

"Despite what you're probably thinking, you have heard of them," Shinpachi said. "In a different manner, perhaps. The full knowledge is restricted to the adepts. No book you would have had access to in the Library would mention them outright."

Of course not, Naruto thought with frustration. Had he just wasted his time for months on end, before? And taking Shinpachi's words into account, was there enough time for him to take a new look at the Library before he left? Would he even have this sort of authorization by virtue of being a Sealweaver or was it a longer process?

"Perhaps you even managed to establish some of the notions together, if in a less cohesive manner," Shinpachi said with a nod, his voice taking on a more instructive tone. "The Eight Pillars are the core principles of sealing — Will, Intent, Meaning..."

Naruto knew the Core Three, of course.

But Shinpachi continued. "…Restriction, Sacrifice, Focus, Balance, and Adaptability. Each one represents a core aspect of the sealing process. When combined with precise language, close attention to detail, and the proper calligraphy, they become the foundation for nearly every advanced seal we weave. From the strongest binding to the most complex barrier, and everything in between." He paused as Naruto opened his mouth to speak but then pressed on anyway. "It's not that you can't create decent seals without making use of them, of course. But you would likely eventually hit a ceiling. Isn't it better to work with the complete picture from the start? I believe it is, at least."

Naruto slowly nodded. It took him a moment to even think of a question.

Shinpachi glanced at him, continuing. "Truly understanding these elements is something only a Sealweaver can achieve. Just like Life-Spirit adepts — and to a lesser extent, Chakra Conduit adepts — we perceive the world in unique ways." He hesitated, then added, "Though to be entirely truthful, although it's rare, there are cases where non-Sealweavers awaken to fully realize one of these aspects."

Naruto's brow furrowed. "So… eight aspects in total? I thought Restriction…" Naruto trailed off, his mind wandering to one of Yasaka's half-baked explanations. She had been onto something, then, although she wasn't even a Sealweaver herself. Somehow. Which was the way things tended to work around Yasaka, and probably half the reason she seemed to believe nearly anything was possible.

"Was something entirely different from concepts like Will?" Shinpachi finished for him. "That's a common misunderstanding." He moved closer, crouching to sit at Naruto's level. "You know this already, but Will drives the seal — it can't form without it. Intent gives the seal its purpose, and the clarity of why it exists. Meaning relates to emotional or symbolic depth, increasing the seal's power, among other possibilities."

Naruto nodded again, as this part was familiar. Restriction, he thought, didn't do much on its own, aside from establishing conditional boundaries. "That's not exactly what I was thinking. I knew Restriction was important, just didn't fully grasp how or why. Well, until recently." He frowned, remembering Kenzo's question — it seemed even more loaded now than it had before. "It binds the seal, keeping its power focused, primarily. Right?"

"Indeed," Shinpachi said, "that is its main function. I believe, however, that you understate it — and its reversal is just as important. Now, Sacrifice, which is usually bound with it, is a peculiar one, as it usually amplifies the Meaning by an exponential amount when applied — by giving something up, a seal can bind deeper." He smiled faintly, glancing at Naruto. "An exchange of sorts. There's a reason why non-Sealweavers are told to stick with ink. The danger, too, is exponential. As you might know."

Naruto nodded slowly, keeping his thoughts to himself. He was living proof of it now, he supposed.

"And yes," Shinpachi said, with a careless shrug. "I understand this sort of secretiveness about these principles might be rather frustrating, from the outside. But what you might not fully grasp is how much more dangerous this quickly becomes for non-Sealweavers. The moment they start tampering with the Pillars, truly tampering... well. They can't recognize the warning signs, unfortunately. And that is where things become…" He trailed off, seeing Naruto's expression, before clearing his throat. "…There is Focus, which of course, depends on the mental strength of the weaver, as well as his creativity — qualities that can sometimes work against each other, although not necessarily. It sharpens the seal, and amplifies its precision, although not in the same way Intent does, as you will see. And, well, it also depends on the seal's own innate clarity, so there is a kind of recursion here. Balance is a seal's ability to withstand the ebb and flow of energy, to keep from breaking too easily. And Adaptability... is the degree to which the seal has been designed to become able to shift within its parameters, to change as needed."

Of course, each aspect was as tied to the seal itself as it was to the weaver's mental and physical state. That applied to all eight, as Shinpachi had confirmed.

Naruto nodded slowly, absorbing the information. "…You said many strong seals use a combination of these Pillars?"

"Certainly," Shinpachi said, his voice steady. "But don't mistake my words — binding these aspects together isn't simple. To fully realize any Pillar's potential, to become able to bind them with others... takes more than just skill. It normally demands a breakthrough, a moment of utmost clarity that nothing will ever be able to take away from you. That is what I meant, earlier — what we Sealweavers call an Awakening. Something entirely intangible, and that I cannot fully put into words. Without that, forcing aspects to work at a high level in harmony won't work — and would lead to failure, death, or worse. The usual."

Worse…? Naruto asked, wondering just what this all meant for him. "…What about you? Can you make use of any of them to their full extent? Have you... awakened to any—"

"Yes. Two Awakenings. I've been able to make good use of Focus for a while. And…" Shinpachi's gaze hardened. "Balance, too, now. After what happened at sea."

Naruto refused to ask more.

"As you probably noticed," Shinpachi resumed, after a drawn-out silence, "all these aspects, we learn from childhood in some way — Sealweaver or not. Some seals draw from several Pillars at once, but plenty draw on only one, which is more than enough for most people. And the process is rather complicated. The deeper your understanding of each Pillar — and of any Pillar — the more possibilities you'll have with any seal you create. And, well, they are rather essential to some of the advanced binds."

That was new territory for Naruto.

"Page forty-four," Shinpachi said, almost absentmindedly, before correcting himself. "No, forty-five."

Naruto flipped through the notes quickly, his fingers grazing the rough edges of the paper until he landed on the page Shinpachi mentioned.

"Don't pay too much attention to the names there," Shinpachi muttered, looking slightly self-conscious. "I named these myself — as is tradition in my family. Supposedly, it helps with Meaning some, although I am not sure I see it so far." He took a deep breath, and Naruto noticed, with real surprise, the faint flush on his cheeks. Shinpachi rarely showed vulnerability, but it was there now. Over something so insignificant. "...Please do your own naming, so I won't have to hear any of this out loud, Naruto."

"All right."

"Now... I mentioned two-part binds... then," Shinpachi said, his voice quiet.

There was no question when then was — the reference to a moment they both understood without needing to elaborate.

Naruto stared down at the page, where several diagrams were etched in careful detail. "A two-part bind," Shinpachi explained, "draws from two Awakened Pillars — or, at the very least, two least Pillars deeply understood — binding them in a high-level harmony. Together, they balance and strengthen each other, making the seal potentially stronger than one using multiple Pillars at lesser mastery. Or unbound."

Naruto nodded slowly, and the concept slowly settled into place.

"Exactly," Shinpachi continued. "In any multi-part bind, each Pillar supports and reinforces the others. A three-part bind, or Tri-Pillar Bind, takes it even further. But don't be fooled — it's far from easy. Nor is it a substitute for knowing the languages, of course. Far from it: they are still a prerequisite."

Naruto had never thought otherwise. And the potential consequences of a powerful, ill-designed seal were all too easy to imagine.

Shinpachi shook his head. "At the far end of this scale, you have the eight-part binds. Rare, to say the least. The Eight Trigram Seal is one such example. Now, read on."

Naruto nodded and continued to read.

Some concepts were familiar, of course, and others felt new altogether. Will was everywhere, woven into many seals to various degrees of intensity, but it was a treacherous friend. A seal cast under duress, with shaky resolve, was almost always weaker, fragile, and shorter-lived. But as he read deeper, he realized something else: when bound to Meaning in the right way, Will could turn that very weakness into strength. Will fueled by a master's deep personal Meaning could transform a moment of desperation into a source of enduring power, stabilizing in ways Naruto hadn't considered possible.

The sealing languages themselves played the most crucial of roles, naturally. It wasn't even just that nothing could be done without them, or that knowing more languages made seals more nuanced and precise. Each language carried its own strengths and purpose, so mastering many provided a Sealweaver with a broader range of tools. And, of course, it brought one closer to an Awakening. It was all that, and more. Intent and Focus were directly affected. Beyond that, Meaning — and even Restriction and Sacrifice, if one could train their mind to see the need to write seals as a self-imposed condition — was indirectly influenced by one's knowledge. Every Pillar benefited from deeper study, without exception.

"Which languages do you know, so far?" Shinpachi asked and then blinked in surprise when Naruto answered two — the only ones he had been taught so far.

Naruto read on. Chanting, too, could amplify Meaning, Focus (and Intent, too), imbuing a seal with more than just words. It meant there was more to kotodama — the idea that words carried power — than Naruto had cared to truly believe. Under that lens, the Uzumaki's ritualistic traditions began to make more sense.

Seals needed limits to focus their power, which tied into Focus as well as Restriction, and when bound with Intent, either (or both) could shape when and how a seal could be activated further. Giving it more potency — 'potentially,' Shinpachi said.

There was all that, and more. Naruto knew it would take much longer to truly digest everything before him. The concepts weren't entirely new — he'd harbored suspicions, even theories, about some of these ideas. Understanding Will, Intent, and how layering Meaning made a seal more than just ink and chakra had always been in the back of his mind.

But to see it written so clearly, to know that there was something else, something aside from the pure application of processes and logic — well, it made him sit back and think.

Naruto disagreed with Shinpachi on one point: the Eight Pillars weren't a foundation. They couldn't be.

No, to Naruto, the foundation was and would always be the very language of sealing itself — the various syllabaries and alphabets and inner logic. They were more than a 'prerequisite.' Without them, the seals were nothing but formless thoughts, and impossible to anchor into reality. No matter the Sacrifice, the Meaning, or else. No amount of Will would change that either, he thought — and would be proven right in a way, in due time.

It wasn't surprising that Shinpachi, a genius in his own prodigious right, might see things differently, of course. Or that the languages would come to him so naturally that he almost believed them to be an afterthought. He always viewed — and always would view — the world in counter-intuitive ways, finding depth where others saw surface. Surface where some saw depth, too.

Yes, Naruto thought, in the end, even with the duality where both sides were essential, the Pillars felt more like extensions. It all came back to the written form first; the symbols, the careful strokes. The very structure that gave meaning to the seals.

There was a strange comfort in this peaceful, fundamental disagreement — both of them saw sealing as an art, and that shared passion was enough to bridge their differences. It put things into perspective for Naruto, though the thought was only half-formed at the time. It made him pause and consider the nature of Ninjutsu itself, as well.

For all their apparent differences, sealing's distant cousin now seemed closer than Naruto had once thought.

Both required absolute precision, and a deep understanding of the forces at work beneath the surface. You couldn't just watch a skilled ninja form hand seals and expect to replicate the result by copying their movements. Sealing was no different. The symbols, the gestures, the words, the energy — it all had to be grasped, internalized, not merely imitated.

In a way, they mirrored life itself.

Shinpachi seemed almost eager to engage with Naruto's questions and theories, offering his own in return, and so they passed the afternoon.

lensdump:

i/vI3Eqz : Shin

i/nP0Sci : The Eight Pillars of Sealing: Shinpachi's Two-Part Binding Diagram — Page 44

Annex — On Sealing: The Art of Will, Symbolism, and Sacrifice

Sealing is a practice that connects the caster's Will to the fabric of reality. It transforms abstract ideas into effects through mental discipline, symbolic language, and an understanding of natural laws. Not unlike Ninjutsu, this art involves the use of specialized means: symbol languages.

Seals must be written into existence through the use of these symbol languages. Each symbol carries significance, representing aspects of natural laws or desired effects. A Sealweaver must know which symbols correspond to the desired outcome, combining them like elements in chemistry to create reactions. It requires years of study to master, as even small mistakes can lead to catastrophic results.

At its heart, sealing connects mind, body, chakra, symbol, and the world.

Thus writes Shinpachi of the Gakusha-ke, on the twelfth day of November, in the Year 210 of the Fire Cycle.

Annex — The Eight Pillars of Sealing — All of Which May Be Awakened

Will: Will is the driving force of all seals. It reflects the caster's determination and emotional energy, powering the entire process. The strength of one's Will dictates the seal's potency, longevity, and power.

Intent: Intent is the caster's clear purpose, guiding the Will toward a specific outcome. Without clear Intent, the seal can either fail or manifest unpredictably.

Meaning: Meaning gives the seal emotional and symbolic depth, often derived from personal experiences or cultural traditions. It strengthens the connection between the caster and the forces they are manipulating.

Restriction: Restriction sets the boundaries within which the seal operates, ensuring it remains controlled. It focuses the energy and limits the scope of the seal, preventing unintended consequences.

Sacrifice: Sacrifice amplifies the seal's power by requiring the caster to give up something of value, such as chakra, life force, or something else.

Focus: Focus directs the seal's energy with precision, ensuring it is concentrated on a specific target or effect.

Adaptability: Adaptability allows seals to adjust to changing conditions, requiring advanced knowledge and a deep connection between the caster and the seal.

Balance: Balance ensures the components of the seal, as well as the seal itself, are in harmony with the natural world. A seal leaning too heavily on one aspect may become unstable or fail.

Thus writes Shinpachi of the Gakusha-ke, on the fifth day of December, in the Year 210 of the Fire Cycle.

Annex — Pillars: Shinpachi's Two-Part Binding Combination Table

i/vIDdT2 : Shinpachi's Table

Thus writes Shinpachi of the Gakusha-ke, on the seventeenth day of December, in the Year 210 of the Fire Cycle.

AN: Why, yes, Sealing requires one to go through info dumps. And yes, now we reach the actual notes.

You're free to open the image links or ignore the ramblings and find inner peace.

...I'm so sorry.

Next chapter: Long Lasting Gate