Naruto: Eternal

---

In the Ninja World, before chakra, before jutsu, and before the rise of the Sage of Six Paths, there existed a clan untouched by time—the Eienno clan (永遠乃, meaning Eternal).

They are the origin, the first and the last, a force beyond understanding. While shinobi battle for power, and nations rise and fall, the Eienno remain unshaken—silent watchers, the true masters of the world.

It is said they do not use chakra, for they do not need it.

Their power is woven into existence itself.

The land they inhabit, untouched by war or decay, is known to most as The Forbidden Land. But to those who truly know, it is The Land of God—the sacred domain of the Eienno located in the literal centre of the world.

The Five Great Nations Top and their Daimyo know the truth.

The lands they govern are not theirs to claim but are lent by the Eienno out of their boundless mercy.

Every five years, the Daimyo of each nation travels to the Land of Gods alone.

It is a journey of reverence, a reminder of their place. To refuse this path is to invite ruin.

---

The Daimyo of the Land of Fire walked in silence, his heavy robes brushing against the ground as he led his young son forward.

Beside him, the boy—no older than fifteen—took careful steps, his wide eyes darting nervously across the towering mountains that loomed on either side of them.

These mountains pierced the very sky with no peak visible, their jagged peaks above what the human eye could perceive.

They were on The Path of Fire, the only passage between the Land of Fire and the Land of Gods.

No guards accompanied them, no shinobi, for such things were forbidden. Here, the laws of man did not matter.

Here, the Eienno's will reigned supreme.

As they crossed the final pass, a sight of breathtaking beauty stretched out before them.

The harsh winter winds that swept across the Land of Fire had no claim here.

The Land of Gods remained in eternal spring.

Lush green fields unfurled like a carpet beneath the heavens, dotted with plants and flowers that no human had ever seen or named.

Trees of impossible heights swayed gently in a wind that carried no chill.

Streams of crystal-clear water wove through the land, shimmering like silver under the sun.

The boy gasped in wonder. "Father… this place… is it truly real?"

The Daimyo allowed himself a faint smile. "Yes, my son. This is the Land of Gods. The sacred home of the Eienno clan."

As they walked the path lined with flowers that seemed to glow faintly, the Daimyo spoke, his voice calm but firm. "Do you see this beauty? Do you feel the stillness here? It is because this land belongs to those who are eternal. The Eienno do not rule us with force or fear, for they do not need to. They allow humanity to govern itself. But never forget, my son, it is by their will alone that we live as we do."

The boy looked up at his father, brow furrowed. "Then… why are we here?"

"To confirm your place as the next Daimyo of the Land of Fire," the old man replied.

"It is our duty to serve as the eyes and hands of the Eienno clan. We are entrusted to care for this world, to ensure balance and order. They do not interfere much, but they are always watching. And if they ever wished to take back what is theirs, no power on this earth could stop them."

The boy swallowed hard, his wonder replaced by awe and a hint of fear. "Do we… ever see them?"

"Rarely," the Daimyo admitted. "But their presence is here—in the air we breathe, in the earth we walk on. They are eternal, my son. And it is by their mercy that we rule these lands as stewards, not kings."

As the Daimyo and his son walked further into the eternal spring of the Land of Gods, a sudden stillness fell over the air.

The wind stopped, the distant chirping of unseen birds ceased, and the world seemed to hold its breath.

Then, without warning, a figure appeared before them.

The boy froze mid-step, his breath caught in his throat.

The person before them stood motionless, their presence almost ethereal.

It was hard—impossible—to discern their gender.

Their face was inhumanly beautiful, as though the very concept of beauty had been carved into flesh.

Features so perfect, so balanced, they defied all logic.

And their eyes.

The boy's gaze was drawn helplessly into their eyes—irises that held the vast expanse of the cosmos, swirling with galaxies and the endless sky.

[IMAGE]

Dotted constellations drifted like clouds, and at the center of it all, the pupil shone—a single star, radiant and alive.

The boy's heart thundered in his chest. It wasn't fear. It wasn't awe.

It was something far more dangerous—an overwhelming pull, a feeling so sudden and powerful it left him weak.

Love..?

Or perhaps a longing beyond comprehension.

He felt as though he were standing before something so beautiful, so otherworldly, it transcended all reason.

But then the figure spoke.

"Late," the voice said, soft as silk yet unmistakably masculine.

It cut through the boy's reverie like a blade.

His chest tightened as he broke free from whatever spell had gripped him.

He gasped, staggering back slightly.

The voice was calm, dispassionate, and yet held an undeniable authority.

It wasn't that the figure looked like a woman—no, the sharp angles of his face, the timbre of his voice, everything was undeniably male.

But it didn't matter.

The beauty of his presence was so absolute, so concentrated, that human minds struggled to comprehend it, let alone resist its pull.

The man—if he could even be called that—stood tall, his robes flowing like liquid light.

He paid no mind to the boy's dazed expression, his gaze turning to the Daimyo. "You are late."

The Daimyo bowed his head deeply, as though it were the most natural response in the world. "Forgive us. The path is long, and my son—"

The figure did not allow him to finish. With a mere flick of his fingers, reality bent.

The boy felt the ground vanish beneath his feet.

Space itself shifted and cracked, and before he could gasp in shock, the world around them had changed.

They stood in an enormous hall, its ceiling so high it seemed to disappear into the heavens.

Pillars of smooth white stone stretched endlessly upward, glowing faintly, as if bathed in eternal moonlight.

The hall was vast, grand beyond anything the boy had ever imagined, but it was not empty.

Around them, seated at elegant tables carved from crystal, were the Daimyo of all the elemental nations—the Fire, Water, Earth, Wind, and Lightning—along with leaders of other distant lands.

The boy saw expressions of silent awe, solemn respect, and subtle tension on their faces as they exchanged glances.

And yet, there were no memeber of the Eienno present except for the faceless gaurds.

The figure who had brought them here turned and began walking away, his presence fading like mist.

"The first day is yours," he said, his voice echoing gently through the hall. "Speak. Agree. Find consensus among yourselves. Tomorrow, you shall meet the one you came to see."

With that, the figure vanished, leaving behind only a lingering trace of beauty and silence.

The boy turned to his father, his voice trembling. "Who was that?"

The Daimyo placed a hand on his son's shoulder, his face grave. "A herald of the Eienno Leader. Remember, my son… this is their world. We are merely here to serve."

The boy swallowed hard, his mind still replaying the figure's impossible beauty.

The hall buzzed faintly with murmurs as the leaders began their discussions, but his thoughts remained elsewhere—on the eyes that had held so much.

=========================

Stones and Reviews please