It was with a sullen mood that Team Seven approached Konoha's gates. Normally a genin team would've been happy to be finally at home, or the young shinobi would discuss about how exciting their first adventure outside of the village's walls had been.

Team Seven’s first time outside of the village had been very exciting, just not in a good way, and it had left similar scars on the three genin, even if they were reacting to it in different ways.

Sasuke looked like his normal self, but deep down he was berating himself for being too weak, not realizing that nothing could've prepared him for what had happened. The fact that that man would've been more than ready didn't help.

Sakura had been meek for the whole trip, a sad expression on her face as she realized how little she had helped during their battles on the mission. Facing Zabuza was a wake-up call for her. She had realized that she had to find her resolve, but she wasn't sure how.

Naruto could be considered an expert in hiding his emotions, but in the last days his mask just seemed to have evaporated. The deaths of Zabuza and Haku seemed to chase away his former cheer. Oh, he would put on a little show for his teammates when they had to camp, but Kakashi wasn't fooled.

At least he didn't seemed to have been influenced by the beast sealed in his belly even if he had tapped on the Kyuubi's chakra. Not that he seemed to have noticed, something for which the copy-nin was incredibly grateful.

Sighing, not really looking forward to bringing that up with the village leader, Kakashi presented the identification papers to the chunin standing besides the gates, who accepted them with a nod.

It seemed that for once, Izumo and Kotetsu hadn’t been assigned to gatekeeping duties.

"Here you go," the chunin at the gate said as he handed the documents back to Kakashi and let the genin team pass. "Welcome back!"

It was unusual for the blond to not return any greeting thrown his way, but Kakashi supposed it wasn't so out of place, given the circumstances. He would have to remind himself to talk to the kid later, even if he was hardly the right person to help genin overcome their trauma.

Out of the corner of his eye, Naruto suddenly froze, eyes widening. The one-eye'd jounin fought back a grimace as he tried to predict what new horrors were torturing the—

"ICHIRAKU RAMEN!" the boy yelled as he started to ran towards the direction for the famous stand. Kakashi barely managed to snatch his jacket before he could go running off.

“Not so fast, Naruto. We have to report to Hokage-sama first,” he reprimanded his student with a bored tone, even if he was kinda relieved. Of course Naruto would’ve thought about his favourite food as soon as they had entered the village.

“What?” the boy asked indignantly as he squirmed, trying to get away. “Come on, Kakashi-sensei! It’s been almost a month since the last time I had ramen!”

“Report first, ramen later,” Kakashi said. He would’ve gladly let the genin roam around the village and do whatever they did in their free time, but the team had just came back from a mission and there was a protocol to respect. “It shouldn’t take long to—”

“Hey, what’s that?” Naruto asked, pointing a finger towards the sky.

“Naruto,” Kakashi sighed, hoping that he didn’t have drag him all the way to the Hokage’s office. “That trick isn’t going to—”

“No seriously, Kakashi-sensei! What’s that?!”

Seeing Naruto’s insistence, Kakashi decided to humor him. After all, there was no way the boy could slip away from him. But as he moved his gaze from his loud student, he noticed that other people on the street were staring. And pointing in the same direction.

He wasn't able to raise his head to check what the whole fuss was about when some kind of blue light zipped briefly at the corner of his eyes.

Followed immediately by another.

He snapped his head towards the light and took a double-take at what he saw. Dozens of small blue trails where speeding towards the village from high in the sky, leaving a faint light at their passage.

As they came closer to the village, they started to quickly descend towards Konoha's streets, spreading out in an apparently random pattern.

Was it a jutsu? Who was casting it? Was the village under attack?!

Some departed from the group and went for the ground, reaching the streets around the gates in less than a second.

Widening his eye, Kakashi realized that one of them was going straight for his team.

Whereas his two other genin pulled themselves out of the way, Sakura froze, making Kakashi curse inwardly.

Fortunately, he’d already been in motion to snatch his genin out of the way, and plucked the pink haired girl back by her collar just in time.

Kakashi surveyed his surroundings, expecting to see shinobi swarming at the scene of the attack and civilians being evacuated, but he was shocked to see people not really doing anything except stare with worried expressions. Some of the villagers were even just carrying on with their business, almost like...

"Finally back, Kakashi?" a voice asked, causing the Copy-nin to snap towards it, still wary of any attack. It was Sarutobi Asuma, with his own genin team in tow.

"Ah, Asuma," he said, relaxing his posture slightly. "What's going on?"

"We're not sure," the other jonin said, shrugging. "It started weeks ago. Spread panic around the whole village, but apparently it's not harmful."

"Really now?" Kakashi asked, arching his only visible eyebrow and ignoring the antics of the two groups of genin who were meeting each other.

"Yeah, there's an investigation going on, but I'm out of the loop on this one," Asuma said as he lit a cigarette. "If they have found out anything about it, it's still classified. It's obviously a jutsu but—"

"AH!" Naruto yelled, distracting both the jonin-sensei. "You're going to do a D-rank? We just came back from a C-rank!"

Kakashi sighed, and tried to ignore his loudest student's antics as he revealed his implanted eye so he could check the lights with the Sharingan.

He looked at one of the orbs that was still moving above the village with the eye Obito had given him as a parting gift, following it as it soared in the sky.

And he kept staring silently.

When the light had disappeared behind some buildings, he was still staring at where it had gone, completely oblivious of the weird look Asuma was giving him or how the genin were becoming a little too noisy for his tastes.

"And there was this guy that tried to kill us with a big badass sword, but he was a cool guy and—"

"Alright, listen up, my cute little genin," Kakashi said, interrupting Naruto’s rant, his tone serious despite his light-hearted words. "Nevermind the report. You're dismissed for today."

“What? But Kakashi-sensei, you just told us—”

“Why don’t you take Sakura and Sasuke with you? Unless you want to help me fill all the paperwork... “

“Bye sensei!” Naruto said, turning towards his teammates. Kakashi didn’t hear if he managed to convince Sakura and Sasuke to go to eat ramen with him though, since he left with a shunshin after giving a brief nod to Asuma.

He ran above the rooftops towards his destination, and in the span of a few seconds, he found himself outside the Hokage’s office. He gave a brief nod to the ANBU that had henged himself as the wall before jumping, perching himself on the window.

“Kakashi,” the Sandaime greeted him with a reprimanding tone. “My window is not a door.”

“If that’s the case, Hokage-sama, you really should keep it locked...”

“And get shards all over the office again when one of my shinobi tries to barge in? No thanks,” the Hokage sniffed before turning towards him, suddenly serious. “Where is your team? If I remember correctly, I think it’s still tradition to have your genin with you when reporting on a C-rank mission.”

“The mission may need to be reclassified, actually. But that’s not why I’m here alone.”

“I suppose you have questions about the… phenomenon that has interested the village these last few weeks?”

“For so long…? What has been—”

“We’ve taken measures already,” the Sandaime reassured him as he shifted some documents. “Before you ask… I expect that your mission report will be turned in soon?”

Kakashi gave a shrug, retrieving a scroll from the pouches on his flak jacket and placing it on the Hokage’s desk.

“Here it is. I wrote it as we left Wave. May I ask you about those lights now?”

“Very well,” the Hokage said, stopping to glance at the documents before refocusing on the discussion. ”Since this has started, those lights have been sighted around the village at least four times a day, with intervals of six hours or more between each sighting. Once they appear, they remain in the area very briefly, although, thanks to the repeated appearances...”

“You know where they’re coming from?”

“About their origin… we’ll talk about it in a bit. We have suspicions, although it’s impossible to prove anything yet. I’m more worried about where they were directed, through.”

“The lights have a specific target?” Kakashi asked.

“You could say that,” Sarutobi said gravely. “It took a few days of stakeouts to confirm it, but beyond any doubt… each of those lights is tracking one of Minato’s seals. The Hiraishin seals.”

Kakashi silently stared at the village leader in a mild state of shock, while the Hokage calmly started to fill his pipe with his favourite tobacco.

“And I’m not referring to only those that Minato had placed in strategic key points around the village,” the Sandaime continued, ignoring Kakashi’s reaction. “ANBU patrols were able to follow some of those lights and discovered three of his old secret safehouses. The ones that don’t appear on any official record… and inside of them we recovered some of his special kunai.”

Silence reigned again in the small office, but Kakashi’s mind was racing this time, thinking about the implications of such a thing. If someone had found a way to track down the Hiraishin, along with what he had seen...

“Which becomes even more worrying if you consider the supposed origin of those… tracking lights.”

“How is it possible that the man responsible has not been caught yet, if this has been going on for weeks?”

“Not for lack of effort, I can assure you. Apparently those lights arrive from outside of the country's border. The north-western border.”

“Iwa?”

“The most possible candidate, but without more intelligence, sending a team to infiltrate Iwa would mean risk a war just because of a hunch.”

“I don’t think it’s Iwa’s doing, sir.”

“Really now?” the Sandaime asked, arching an eyebrow. “Please, do tell the reason.”

“I examined the lights with my Sharingan, Hokage-sama. And I know it sounds absurd but… I don’t think that they were made out of chakra.”

“I see... The Hyuuga have claimed something similar, but I wanted to know what the other doujutsu in Konoha’s possession saw, to eliminate any doubt.”

“How is that possible?” he asked. Such a thing was unheard of in all the Elemental Nations.

“Kakashi… I have no idea,” the Hokage admitted, as he lit his pipe before taking a long, slow drag. And if the Professor was saying such a thing...

Well. That wasn’t a good sign.

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

Conrad sneered at the short man, and the short man sneered back from behind the counter. He didn’t like the shopkeeper, and the shopkeeper didn’t like him. Not being able to speak the other man’s language wasn’t helping to improve the relationship.

But the language barrier was not going to stop them from performing an incredibly ancient ritual.

Gesturing towards the items he had placed on the counter, Conrad showed a handful of gold coins to the merchant. A more than fair price, in his opinion.

The shopkeeper vehemently shook his head, showing to the Nord both his open palms with a scowl.

With an unsatisfied grunt, Conrad took a few more septims from his leather purse and added them to his already filled palm, making them dance among his fingers. His eyes never left those of the short vendor.

With a scoff, the shopkeeper pointed a bony finger towards the gold coins, before shaking his head one more time.

Conrad added one more coin to the pile, narrowing his eyes. When the merchant tried to refuse again, he closed his hand around the coins, growling menacingly. A clear way to say that it was his final offer.

The shopkeeper, seeing the potential gain on the verge of disappearing out of his store, finally agreed with a nod, although there was no trace of satisfaction on his face.

He slammed the handful of septims on the counter and as the merchant examined the coinage, quickly put the purchased good in his bag before leaving the emporium, unsatisfied and swearing to never return.

And he wasn’t even sure if he had made a good deal or not.

“I can understand you were in a rush, Minato,” he muttered to himself as he walked in the muddy street of the small mountain town. “But when you tinkered with my mind why in the name of every aedra and daedra didn’t you gave me some hints about the local tongue?!”

He decided to add it to the list of stuff to kick his brother’s sorry incorporeal ass if he ever managed to pay a visit to him again and started to look around for the magelings, hoping that they had not wandered off this time.

They didn’t need a repetition of what happened in the last village when Ta’Sava had smiled at a group of curious children.

That, along with the fact that in a week they hadn't met a single not-human, made Conrad suspect that the accounts of Akavir were either wrong, mistranslated or just plain bullshit.

Having to deal with such reactions, the missing moons and having to wear long robes and a cowl by necessity had turned the normally cheerful Khajiit into a brooding wreck.

Speaking of which, there was the gloomy furball himself, along with the other two.

They were beside a small stand, apparently enjoying some sweets-on-a-stick. It reminded him of those honey nuts he had enjoyed when he was younger, only smaller.

Well, Beta was enjoying it. Sven was apparently more interested in watching the stand owner like a hawk, studying how the sweet balls were made. Ta'Sava was sparsely munching his own instead.

“Master!” Beta called him, having noticed his approach. “You should try these, they’re really good!”

“No, thanks,” Conrad grumbled. “Who knows what’s in them?”

“I don’t know, but they’re good,” Beta replied, giving it another bite. “They’re called daang-go, I think, and—”

“I don’t really care what they’re called,” he interrupted her, having noticed the weird looks that the stand owner was giving them. True, it could’ve been just because they were talking in what may have sounded like a weird language and had different clothes, but these kids were so oblivious, dammit! “I’ve bought us some supplies, so let’s move on. We’ve only a few more weeks before we have to go back to the ship, and the journey is far from over.”

Grumbling complaints, his more or less forced apprentices gathered their belongings and followed him as he kept walking along the main street.

He tried to ignore the stares. They were not looking at him, not with the same awed or scornful expressions that he was used to back home, at least. But for some reason the first thing the locals did—or at least enough of them to be noticeable—after staring at them as a group, was look at their foreheads.

Weird. But it made Conrad reach for his hood, instinctually.

“Where are we going now?” Sven asked, still eating, “Same direction?”

“South, first. Then we’ll see,” he replied. Conrad didn’t dare to use his tracking spell in a busy settlement, now knowing how magic was seen by the locals. He didn't want earn their hostility just because he cast a harmless tracking spell in the middle of the place. Tamriel had a lot of people who hated magic.

But last time he had checked, it was indicating roughly to south, away from the mountains that seemed to dominate the rocky region where the Seeker had took to shore.

“Master?” Beta asked, having finished her dan-whatever. “There’s something we wanted to ask…”

“Then ask, Beta. We’re not at the College anymore,” he replied without looking at her.

“He didn’t say that when I asked him about the Companions…” Sven muttered to Ta’Sava.

“Well, hm, how are you sure that the ship will be there when we’ll have to go back?” Beta asked, ignoring her fellow student.

“Nothing prevents them from abandoning us here…”

“Let’s just say that I assured that it will not happen,” Conrad replied with a smirk.

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

Sitting on his beached ship’s bridge, Edyval Letos was absolutely livid.

He couldn't vent his anger, sadly. Not really. He had already used any insult, curse and blasphemy he knew of—and he knew a lot of them—against the Dragonborn's name, his parents, his family and distant relatives he may have.

In the Breton's fingers was a silver coin, the source of his ire.

Before leaving, Conrad Harissen had turned with a spell all the gold he had used to pay Edyval into silver.

As an insurance, he’d said.

Good luck finding someone willingly to reverse it for free, he’d said.

See you in one or two months, he’d said.

Damn mages.

Being forced to wait for their return, he had ordered the ship onto the beach. At least they had landed in a relatively good place, with the high cliffs around the bay protecting them from most of the winds.

The scouting party had returned almost immediately, having found a stream of fresh water nearby. Between the sea and the land, they had enough food to survive.

It was just a matter of surviving long enough. They hadn't seen any dangerous creature or monster yet, but he didn't want to take any chances.

A small but effective palisade was built around the camp, protecting the tents that had been mounted in relative order beside the ship.

Turns were organized, between fishing, hunting, cooking, mending the ship and simple sentry duty.

This gave lot of free time to Edyval to brood and wish he could incinerate people with magical fire, like any good Breton should be able to, as his grandfather used to say.

Damn mages.

He let the silver coin fall inside the chest that contained the whole pile, before slamming it shut with a kick. Still grumbling about his grandfather and the Dragonborn, he left the ship and went to grab the small axe that lay in the tools’ pile at the centre of the camp.

It was his turn to chop wood, after all. Imagining that the logs were actually the Nord’s head would help him.

There was also the fact that it made him look like he was part of the crew, struggling alongside them. Which was good.

The more they respected him, the less chance that they would try to slit his throat during his slee—

“People!” the sentry perched on the top of the mast cried, distracting the captain from his grim thoughts. “People are coming from the cliff!”

Edyval’s head snapped in that direction, and it was not the only one. Lo and behold, a small mob was becoming visible above them, small dark silhouettes against the sky from the captain’s point of view.

Most were staring at the ship, some were pointing at it while discussing with the ones close to them… but a decently-sized group was moving towards them, walking on the track that descended to the bay.

“Don’t ya stare there, idiots!” Edyval yelled. “All hands on deck!”

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

Conrad pierced another piece of meat with an improvised spit before admiring his work.

Four nice rows of juicy meat were ready in his hand, but he had no intention of stopping to cook them.

"YOL!" he shouted, a short-lived stream of fire leaving his open mouth. It was enough, and the meat was cooked—if a little charred—grease still sizzling.

He took one in his other hand and passed the remaining three to the students, who started eating the impromptu meal.

"Ugh, not even some spices," Sven lamented, peeling off some burnt pieces.

"Ta'Sava is not concerned,” the Khajiit said, shrugging as he took a considerable bite. “Ta'Sava quite likes it."

As they ate, they kept walking in silence and for a while Conrad was able to enjoy the unfamiliar landscape in silence, with the exception of munching sounds. The last days had been mostly made of mountains and rock and he was already sick of it.

At least there was no snow, thanks Talos for that. Although the mountains were more distant now, and smaller in size.

Hopefully they would find an easier terrain to navigate, and—

"Master?" Beta abruptly.

"Yes, Beta?" Conrad questioned, doing his best to suppress a sigh. He should’ve known that his peace of mind wouldn’t have lasted long.

"Is it true that you're a wanted man?" the girl blurted out, appearing to regret the question the moment it slipped past her lips.

"What," he said—didn’t ask, said—flatly, coming to an halt and turning towards the magelings, who were now standing besides each other. He couldn’t decide if it was to attempt to give an impression of a common front or if the boys wanted to protect the girl.

As if.

"I said—"

"Yes, I heard what you said,” he interrupted her, crossing his arms. “Where has this come from?"

"Well, on the ship…” Beta started, unsure how to put it.

“We heard a lot of stuff on The Seeker, Master Conrad,” Sven finished, putting a hand on the girl’s shoulder as though to reassure her.

"Really now?" Conrad muttered, his mind already abuzz. Someone in the crew knew of the unofficial bounty placed on him by the Thalmor? It was not exactly a very well-protected secret, but it wasn’t that widespread. The Thalmor didn’t want to risk making a martyr of him so they couldn't try to move him against officially.

Nothing in the secret war he had inadvertently become involved in was official, though.

The problem was that rumors were around. One of the sailors had probably heard of them...

"Yes,” Beta continued, laughing nervously. “Some of it was utterly crazy, totally absurd. Like how you rode a dragon to fight vampires, or something."

"Uh-hu,” was Conrad’s unimpressed answer. Who even made up stuff like that? He had never rode a dragon during the vampire crisis!

"But we were told you were a wanted man, too. So..."

Yep, here it was. The moment they would ask him about the Thalmor hunting him down, the bounty hunters, the whole package he wanted to keep them away from.

"Look, I didn't tell you because I didn't want to—"

"So it's true!” Beta’s exclaimed in shock, covering her mouth with her left hand. “You are an outlaw in the Riften Hold!"

Conrad’s mind came to a stop. What the—She was not talking about the Thalmor?

"What? Riften?!” he exclaimed in outrage, mostly because he had almost spilled the beans. “I'm not wanted in Riften!"

"But Master Conrad,” Ta’Sava spoke. “They said—"

"Look, they just told you a lot of over-exaggerated stories,” Conrad assured them. “I'm just not... very welcome there. But I'm not wanted by the law."

"Not welcome?" Beta asked in confusion.

"It means they don't like seeing me inside Riften, and I've been asked to stay away from there," Conrad deadpanned.

"I know what that means, master! But... what did you do?"

"I—I destroyed a tavern," he grumbled, scratching his head as he recalled the tragic ending of that period of his life. Bittersweet memories.

"You... destroyed a tavern?” the girl said in disbelief.

“I can see that, actually,” Sven deadpanned. “Why would the whole city hold a grudge on it, though?"

"It was a very popular tavern," he smiled sadly. It was true, after all. The Ragged Flagon had truly been very popular once.

"Couldn't you have paid for damages?"

"I didn't have enough money," Conrad replied, getting irritated with the girl when he felt it; the same odd sensation that made his hair on his head stand on end.

He brushed it off, attributing it to another one the odd things here. Everything just felt... off. He couldn't put his finger on what it was, though.

"But you could've—" Beta's speech was cut short by Conrad's hand clamping over her mouth to shut her up.

There it was again; that sensation.

When Beta lifted her hands to Conrad's hand to try and pull him away and speak, Conrad pressed harder, giving her a sharp look before listening to a faint noise in the underbrush.

"We're being watched," he realised. The magelings immediately tensed, looking around trying to locate the threat that had apparently put their master on edge.

Sven had even formed a small globe of fire already, ready to throw it.

Conrad on the other hand was slowly scanning their surroundings, moving his right hand to his axe's handle, ears opened.

Blasted rocks. Whoever was spying on them could've been—

There!

Conrad shouted, and the three words that formed the Whirlwind Sprint threw him towards the hiding place of the potential enemy.

He landed with his trusted weapon in his grip, lightning channelled at the point of the staff he was holding in his other hand and... nothing.

There was nothing behind the stupid rock.

"I could've sworn that..." Conrad muttered as he looked around, incredulous. Had he imagined it?

"Master Conrad!" Ta'Sava called, moving towards him with his fellow students in tow. "Are you alright?"

Conrad decided to ignore it, still on high-alert.

Where was he? He knew he was here. Where was he?!

“Master?” the Khajiit repeated, worry clearly audible in his voice.

He ignored the Khajiit, still eyeing their surroundings. The students were moving closer to him, oblivious to the possible danger.

He snapped his head towards them, opening his mouth as if to yell at them a warning—and the presence was gone.

Conrad's eyes widened in shock.

How was it possible? Had his senses fooled him?

No, that was not it.

Whoever had been there... was gone. In the blink of an eye, no less.

The thought unnerved him.

"Master?" Ta’Sava called again. Both him and his fellow students were now looking at him with worried expressions.

"Nevermind,” he grumbled, lowering his axe and relaxing only in appearance. “Let's just keep going."

“Master, are you alright?” Beta asked, sounding concerned. “What was that?”

"Yes, I'm fine... Must have been the wind or something," he replied, failing to sound completely convinced.

"Wind my ass. I think he’s just getting crazier," Sven whispered as he dispersed the spell he had prepared, not realizing that his master had heard his comment. Conrad had better things to do than reprimand the young Imperial.

Like keeping his eyes opened.

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

Sarutobi Hiruzen was sitting in his office, but for once the God of Shinobi was free from the tedious task known as paperwork.

Instead, he was studying a map of the Elemental Nations, covered with dots and markers. The rest of the desk was covered by reports from the patrols that had been appointed for the investigation.

Beside him were Nara Shikaku, the jonin commander, and the rest of Konoha's best and brightest strategists.

"Our scouts confirmed that there are a lot of Iwa patrols around the border, besides the regular forces of the Land of Earth."

"That's not unusual. The Earth-Fire border has always been heavily surveilled by both nations. Although, an increase of activity on the border as Konoha is experiencing such phenomena..."

"Iwa has always carried a grudge against the Yondaime Hokage, but like all the other Hidden Villages, envied his power. What if this is their attempt to study the Hiraishin?"

"Nonsense!” one of the other strategists blurted out. “The Hiraishin no Jutsu was created by Tobirama-sama. In decades, only Namikaze Minato was able to reproduce it, and only after studying the scrolls that are jealously guarded right here, in the deepest bowels of our vaults! The mere idea of someone understanding how it works without those is absurd!"

"Then how do you explain that each and every one of those lights has lead to a Hiraishin seal, huh?" was the almost mocking reply he received from one of his colleagues.

Sarutobi’s mind was a buzz of activity. Maybe it really was just a way to track the Hiraishin seals, but why now? Why more than a decade after Minato's death, when no shinobi able to use it existed?

No, it was something else. The evidence in their possession left no other explanation.

"I'm more concerned about this 'not-chakra' energy that the lights seem to be made of, according to Hakate Kakashi and the whole Hyuuga Clan," the Hokage said, eyes still on the map. "Have we made any progress on that front?"

"Our sensors are trying their best, Hokage-sama. Sadly those lights disappear as soon as they reach their target, leaving no chakra residue for analysis."

"That shouldn't surprise us, if they're not made of chakra but from... something else," Sarutobi mused, stroking his chin. "Maybe we can't detect anything because we don't know how it's made. The question is, how did Iwa—"

The door suddenly opened, interrupting the Hokage's musings and catching everyone's attention.

"Hokage-sama, forgive the intrusion, but a message with the highest priority has just arrived," the shinobi that had barged in said, presenting to the village leader a sealed scroll with a slight bow.

Sarutobi accepted it with a nod, before opening and examining its contents. The whole room was silent now, the bickering forgotten as they studied the Hokage's reactions as his eyes darted across the scroll's contents.

"It seems that our concerns were not founded as we thought," he slowly said after a few minutes, closing the parchment. "Our spies in Iwa finally managed to send a report. The lights are not their doing, and they're as baffled as us."

He took a deliberate pause before continuing, "Unlike us, though, they've a lead on their origins. Iwa patrols are stalking an unknown group that was apparently moving along the border."

"Another group involved in this?" Shikaku mumbled, eyes closed. "That leaves too many unknowns, even without considering the nature of the energy powering that jutsu."

"Indeed, but now we know where to look. This has become a race between us and Iwa, to see who will reach those responsible first," Sarutobi said, as he slowly raised to his feet. "Send an ANBU team to investigate."

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

Dawn was breaking over the mountain pass, and from their advantage point, Conrad was able to see the landscape in all of its glory.

The barren, snowless mountain range with all its peaks and spires almost suddenly ceased to be, leaving space for one of the most thick and lush forests he had ever seen in all of his travels.

The rising sun's rays were playing tricks with the scenery, painting the rocks and leaves in reds and blues.

Once upon a time, Conrad would've been breathless at seeing such a wonder. Now he was just wondering how much terrain they would've been able to cover in one day.

In the end, the attack hadn't come.

That didn't mean that Conrad had relaxed completely.

The last few nights had been a nightmare, because he knew he couldn't rely only on the magelings to do watch duty since they had not even felt their stalker's presence the first time.

Thank the Divines for magic runes and summoned daedra. They were the only reason why he had managed to sleep at all.

No matter how paranoid the magelings thought he was.

Had it not been for their mysterious pursuer—or pursuers—he would've gladly used this opportunity to give the kids a cartography lesson. Their skills in that field were pitiful at best.

Instead, he had hastened them to break camp as he traced a map of what he was able to see from his perked spot on his journal. Sadly none of the lands they had crossed so far resembled the few Akavir’s maps he had seen, which depicted only Septimia’s and Ionith’s surroundings.

They had probably landed in another part of the continent. Just his luck.

On the bright side, he was able to see at least two villages, so maybe they would be able to sleep under a roof that night.

Taking in the sight before him one last time, he stood from the rock he had been sitting on, turning towards the young mages.

Who were still having trouble packing their supplies.

Conrad groaned loudly and made a note to teach them how to do that properly on a later date, but didn't move to help them.

Let their errors teach them a lesson, first.

"Hurry up you three, or I'll leave you here," he barked as he picked up his backpack, walking away from the camping spot.

The sounds of their hurried bustling made him smile slightly, but he quashed it quickly. He had a reputation to uphold.

"Master Conrad?" Ta'Sava called, trotting behind him whilst crading a canteen, a book and other various items. "How long before we arrive?"

"For the last time, I don't know," he replied slightly turning towards his furried student. "We'll be there when we'll be there. Now put your stuff inside your pack while I check."

Conrad ignored the grumbling that ensued from that comment as he turned back to face the direction they were traveling in. They were getting closer, he could feel it. To what, he didn’t know, but he assumed he’d know when he got there.

Or else he’d have even more reason to hunt down his brother’s dead soul and beat it into Oblivion.

Turning his focus inward to cast the seeking spell—which he could practically cast in his sleep by now—he gathered the necessary magicka, and let it loose. The giant ball of magic had long lost its novelty, but this time something different happened.

Instead of the entire sphere flying off in one direction, it split up into multiple smaller orbs. A big cluster of them soared in the same general direction, while others shot off at seemingly random intervals. A few even landed in the forest, in the middle of nothing.

He stared at them, part of his mind noting the directions as the rest tried to process this new development.

He ignored the magelings’ comments as they tried to get his attention and question him, too busy trying to deny the conclusion he was coming to.

He was going to murder his brother. Repeatedly. He was pretty sure that the Soul Cairn would let him do that.

They were tracking multiple objects?! And they didn’t even have the decency to be in the same general area, no, they had be all over the damn place!

“I hate you, Minato,” he growled as he resumed walking.

“Who’s Minato?” Beta asked in confusion.

“My brother,” Conrad replied, not offering any other explanation.

“I didn’t know that the Dragonborn had a brother,” Sven whispered, once again not lowering his voice enough.

“Maybe his brother is not famous, so the bards never say anything about him in the songs?” Beta offered hesitantly.

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

Edyval pretended to mask his annoyance as he gave another bag of silver coins to yet another simpleton that had come to trade with them at their camp.

The fool smiled in satisfaction, and left with a deep bow, lots of smiles and words in that funny tongue of his, to which he replied with waves with his hand and smiles of his own.

Inwardly though, Edyval was gloating. He had just bought two crates of a spice never seen back home for an incredibly low price. Even if he was paying with gold-turned-in-silver coins, he would be even more rich once the stuff arrived on the Tamrielic markets.

And that was just with the last transaction!

One week ago, when he had seen those people on the cliff, he had feared that the camp would’ve been attacked. Instead it was a group of curious locals from a small village nearby.

At first they just gaped at the ship—something that he could understand and be proud of, since The Seeker was a great ship—but being looked at like he was a source of entertainment by these weird-dressed savages had quickly become annoying.

Then they started to trade with his crew. Although the language barrier was a problem, gestures and coin seemed to be universal. Especially the coin.

It was food at first. The crew was tired of the meager provisions that had remained after the long travel and wanted to try something new. After the weird but tasty food, they had started to buy other items from the peasants. Like those weird sticks that made light when you push a button on them—another thing that didn’t exist in Tamriel, and for which Edyval knew he could ask any price he wanted.

In a few more days, more people had started to come. Even real merchants, who had come with some bodyguards. A small camp surrounded their even smaller camp now, tents full of people that wanted to sell stuff to him.

Edyval was not stupid though. He knew that there was only so much silver—transmutated gold, he reminded myself—on the ship, and if he wanted to maximize his gains he had to be careful in choosing who he would make a bargain with. Which of course led to some screening.

Speaking of which, Edyval had some potential deals to attend to. He couldn’t deny that it was difficult to communicate to the merchants without seeming invasive or rude, but he could care less when it came to such fantastical business opportunities! His interests lay in just how low he could haggle the price, especially with imbeciles that had no idea the fortune they were laying upon him.

Edyval resisted the urge to rub his hands together gleefully as he proceeded look at the wares that had arrived that day—fabrics. Some familiar, some not, but it appeared his crew were just as eager as he to trade—with their own funds, of course. He had no doubt exclusive goods obtained from Akavir would catch an impressive price back home, and his men surely had the same idea in mind.

He scanned the camp, looking for that trader that had those weird dresses. Before seeing him, Edyval had always thought that only men to wear a gown were mages and priests. Where was that—

“Captain, come here and take a look at this!” a sailor called Edyval from the nearby line of applicants that were waiting for their chance to talk to him.

“What do ya—” he started to call, but his eyes caught a strange sight in the middle of the camp.

A tall man in red robes was standing in there, but that was not what caught the seaman’s sight. In the last few days he had somehow become accustomed to the weird dress and fashion sense of these uncouth fools—mostly because of the prospect of future gains.

There was no way though to describe the man in red if not as eccentric, between the long—too long to possibly be practical—and thick mane of white hair and those strange red tattoos on the face.

What a land of weirdos.

He was at the point of turning away and getting back to his own business when their gazes locked. Edyval’s hair stood on end, his flesh crawling with the sensation of danger. He widened his eyes.

That man in red… he was dangerous. Incredibly so.

In a way the seasoned captain was not able to explain.

“Captain, come on!” the crewman called again, distracting him for only a second. “You must see this!”

Edyval nodded absent-mindedly, as he checked the crowd where the tall bushy-haired man had stood. He couldn’t see a speck of white, or red robes.

The man was gone. How was that possible—

“Silk, sir!” the sailor yelled to him. “This guy has silk!”

Edyval’s neck could have snapped with the speed he turned it. Trying to seem as unfazed as possible—a great effort, since he had just had one of the biggest scares of his life—he slowly walked towards the line.

“What did ya just say?” he whispered, placing both his hands on the sailor’s shoulders.

The crewman offered one of the bundles from a crate that one of the tradesmen had offered as sample of his merchandise. It was a folded cut of silk, of great quality, the texture almost flawless, and Edyval’s gnarly lips twisted into a greedy smile, his hand crawling to his money pouch.

“Tell him to—Well, let him understand that I want all of it,” he grinned, before turning towards the rest of the crew. “Ya idiots! Help this savage’s men to load the crates with the silk in the cargo bay!”

“Cap’n, I lost my sword!” someone among his men protested. “I can’t find it anywh—”

“Nevermind that! Do as I said!” he ordered, already imagining how much he could charge for the silk.

He didn’t think about the man in red for a long time.

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

“There's no way it's normal. What do you think?” Sven asked, still walking in the middle of the forest. “Do you think it’s normal?”

“I don’t see what the problem is,” Beta replied, slightly annoyed by her friend's insistence.

"It's just... I started to notice it on the ship, but it'ìs only been a few weeks! How can it—"

"Ta'Sava is having a growth spurt," the Khajiit defended himself. "It's not Ta'Sava's fault if he is now taller than Sven."

"It's just not fair!" Sven wailed. "I've always been the tallest among us!"

"Sven is just jealous that Ta'Sava is the one that looks grown up, now," the feline said smugly.

"Guys... I'm a Nord,” Beta deadpanned. “Do you realize that when we’ve 'grown up', I'll probably be taller than both of you?"

"So what? The fact that you’re a Nord doesn’t mean that all Nords are giants!” Sven protested. “Master Conrad isn’t that tall!"

"Hey!” said Nord yelled, turning towards his students. “I'm just a little below average!"

The two boys blinked for a few seconds, before exploding in a loud laugh, much to the girl’s confusion and their teacher’s anger.

“Little... !” Ta’Sava managed to say between the giggles.

Conrad gritted his teeth and kept walking under the forest’s canopy. He would’ve gladly taught those two brats a lesson, but he had to admit—inwardly, of course—that he had served them that on a silver platter.

Which darkened his mood even more than the stupid woods they were in. The air was so heavy that he was covered in sweat, even after removing the armour’s heavy padding.

It was probably because of how thick and lush the trees were. He hated it already.

Conrad growled, reminding himself that torching a forest was not constructive. Speaking of constructive...

"We should be close now," he grumbled, catching the magelings attention. Casting his spell once again, he didn't spare a glance to the big cluster of lights that darted through the forest in the same direction.

Instead, he followed a single, tiny dot of light that slithered away.

Having to hasten his stride to not lose sight of it, he followed it through the trees, as the light bounced over roots and lighting up the undergrowth with a tiny blue glow.

The way it moved reminded the mage of an especially small wisp—nasty little bastards.

Bushes and shrubs were becoming thicker as Conrad was led away from the trail. He could hear his students' calls as they were left behind but he didn't stop. The Nord pushed aside a moss-covered branch, and found himself in a small clearing.

Just in time to see the small light orb disappear under the ground, passing through it as if it was a ghost.

Conrad remained still for a whole minute, still looking where the magical light had disappeared.

He had spent six months hiding in the College of Winterhold, teaching brats and losing his mind behind that research that had led nowhere. He had managed to create the tracking spell to find the runes that Minato had planted in his mind only thanks to a fortuitous intuition and used it to cross an Oblivion-damned ocean that nobody had dared to challenge in more than three and half centuries.

Spending a small fortune to rent that bloody contrebandier ship, too.

After all that, the first place he had managed to actually reach thanks to his clairvoyance spell was a small clearing in the middle of nowhere.

He felt his eye twitch.

Taking a deep calming breath, Conrad forced himself to think logically about the situation. What was so important about this place?

He started to examine his surroundings, walking slowly along the clearing. It seemed perfectly normal, just a bunch of grass and small bushes in the middle of the—

The thick forest.

The forest around was incredibly thick, so why did this clearing even existed? There was no reason for it to be natural, it should've been full of big and tall trees as the rest of the place. The soil was not poisoned or infertile, it was pretty obvious with all the underbrush he could see.

So nothing would've stopped the trees' growth.

He moved closer to the trees around the clearing. They were younger than the others in these woods, and noticeably smaller. Less than twenty years old, probably.

So the clearing was free of anything bigger than a shrub, and around it the forest was slowly reclaiming the lost ground. Maybe the clearing had been created by a fire? Lightning struck a tree and—No, no. With such a thick vegetation, the destruction caused by a fire would've been on a much larger scale.

Something had happened here, but it was too localized... a spell, maybe—

"There he is!" Beta's voice distracted him. Turning towards the end of the clearing, he saw the three magelings trotting towards him, clearly out of breath. He rolled his eyes, knowing that he would have to do something about that sooner or later.

"Dammit, Master! Don't just ran away like that, what if—" Sven said before tumbling unceremoniously on the ground, accompanied by the sound of tinkering glass.

Conrad's eyes widened.

"Sven, be more careful! You're the one carrying the alchemy equipment!" he barked, as he walked towards them. "I swear, if you broke my alambic I will—"

"It wasn't my fault!" the boy tried to defend himself, still gasping for breath. "I stumbled on something!"

"You were walking on grass, where could you possibly—"

"Wait. What's that?" Beta asked, pointing at something on the ground. Conrad followed her finger, and saw metal ring that sprung from the dirt, partially covered by the grass.

It was on that Sven had tripped up, and it was the place where the clairvoyance light had disappeared.

Conrad immediately let go of his staff and knelt besides it, scraping at the soil with his hands.

"What is Master Conrad doing?" Ta'Sava asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Digging. Either help me out or shut up," he replied. Whatever the thing was, it was connected to Minato's runes.

"I knew we should've taken a shovel with us," Beta lamented as she got to work.

"Why would anyone think to bring a shovel?" Sven muttered. "We're mages."

"Shut up and dig, Sven," Conrad said, deciding against biting back with a comment about how he had used shovels mostly to bury comrades and friends.

The deep-rooted grass and the hard soil made digging a long, tedious task, and the hot air didn't really help. Conrad was forced to remove his hood to clean off his sweat.

Finally, whatever had been buried was freed with a spray of dirt and filth and most importantly, it was in Conrad's hands.

It was a rusted knife. The oddest one the Nord had ever seen, shaped almost like a trident.

It also had the puniest and less menacing blade he had ever seen on something that was clearly a weapon. Most importantly, it had one of the runes Minato had planted in his mind inscribed on the handle.

Which was good news. It was a sign that he was not completely crazy.

"Hey, look! There's something else in there!" Ta'Sava exclaimed. The Khajiit immediately started to rummage in the hole, having to quench his curiosity.

Conrad glanced towards him, still studying the strange weapon. Why would Minato place those runes there? If it had been Minato, of course.

"Seems like a piece of cloth," his furred student mumbled, as he started to pull with a grunt. He started to pull with a grunt. Despite giving it a good tug, the cloth seemed fixed into the ground, and refused to move. "Why it's not budging?"

"Look, it's stuck around a rock," Sven pointed out. There was actually a round shape covered by dirt and mud, that had apparently been caught by the piece of cloth.

"That's a very smooth rock," Beta said, arching an eyebrow. Ta'Sava ignored her and planted his feet into the ground before pulling even harder.

Slowly, the string of fabric began to rise, shuffling away mud and dirt as the feline boy tightened his fingers around it. Conrad managed to see a flash of metal pieced on it before a whole chunk of dirt exploded outwards as the object was finally pried free from the ground, soaring right into Ta'Sava's hands.

"Yes!" Ta'Sava exclaimed excitedly because of his success, even if he had fell on his rear because of the sudden lack of balance. Then his eyes widened as he saw what he was holding.

The piece of cloth was tied around a skull.

The Khajiit shrieked in fear, tossing the body part away instinctively. Which landed right in Sven's lap, who had a similar reaction and threw it back in the hole where it had come from.

"Guys, what's wrong with you? It's just a skull!" Beta said, apparently bewildered by their reactions. "We have seen plenty on the College's shelves!"

"They all belonged to someone!" Sven retorted. "How can you not be disturbed by that?!"

"I know that but... they're just bones," Beta said meekly. "It's not like they're undead or something."

As the magelings bickered, Conrad picked up the skull, raising it to eye level to examine it better.

"Human," he mumbled, catching the three student's attention. "Judging by the teeth and the cranium's bones, he—or she—was around his twenties the time of death."

"How can you tell, master?" Beta asked, taken aback.

"I've studied it back in the days at the College," Conrad replied, not looking towards them,

"You studied how to read skulls?" Sven asked incredulously. "Why would you even think about learning how to read skulls?!?"

"I was bored," he simply said, turning towards the three of them with a small smirk on his face. "Now do you believe me when I say that all knowledge is useful?"

Silence fell among the apprentices as he turned back the skull, hoping to find some other clues. He removed the strip of cloth that was barely hanging around it and examined it.

The only peculiar thing about it was the metal plaque at the center of it, rusted as the knife was. A symbol of some kind was engraved into it, two geometrical form: he didn’t know what they meant. It could be anything, from a heraldic emblem to a lucky charm. He didn't know enough about Akavir's traditions to understand it.

He placed it on the ground beside his staff and turned over the skull. To his surprise he felt one of his fingers slip through it, like if the bone had suddenly caved in.

Immediately checking, worrying to have damaged the skull, he saw that the bone hadn’t given way—there was a hole.

A very neat one.

His eyes moved towards the knife he was still holding in his other hand and slowly, very slowly, moved it towards the hole, letting it pass through.

"The weapon struck from the side, piercing through the bone, shattering it and tearing the brain apart," he grumbled. "A fatal wound, this guy was dead before realizing it."

“Why would the person that killed him leave the knife behind?” Sven asked, eyes fixed on the blade as Conrad took it out of the skull.

“There was no time to take it back, probably, This is a battlefield,” the Nord said, scanning the clearing once again. “One where one—or both sides had spellcasters of some kind among them.”

“Mages?” Beta inquired. “I mean, battlemages?

“If they have them here. That’s why this clearing exists, the forest was razed in this very specific spot,” Conrad explained. “Once the battle was over, the forces involved probably didn’t have time to retrieve lost equipment—or their fallen.”

“How can you be sure about that, Master?” Beta insisted.

“I’m not, it’s just a theory. I’m ready to bet one hundred septims that if we checked, we would find other bodies.”

“Then why did your spell take us here?” Sven asked in mind annoyance. “How come it led us to a clearing in the middle of nowhere?”

Conrad found himself unable to reply, much to his surprise. The spell had been created to track down those runes, but he had ignored—and still did—what their actual use could be. Finding them on a weapon, besides a dead body, was raising new questions in his mind.

What was the use of the runes during a fight? Had Minato just created them, or had took part on whatever skirmish—or war—that had raged here, years ago?

Who was his brother, really?

Those questions and more were whirling in his mind, and he was unable to find a—

Conrad's eyes widened, his body tensing slightly, as he tried to not make any sudden movements.

Their stalker was back.

He slowly put down the skull, like he wanted to leave it on the ground. Then, ignoring the weird looks the magelings were giving to him, used the free hand to cast a spell, using his body to hide his actions at the best he could.

His senses expanded, sensing the location of every living being in the immediate surroundings.

The squirrels running on a tree's bark in the forest.

The birds, flying from branch to branch.

The magelings standing in front of him.

A group of four people hidden in the woods just behind him.

Conrad was baffled. He had thought so far that they had been chased down by a single person.

"So you brought friends, huh?" he whispered, reaching for his staff. "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice..."

In a single sweep motion he grabbed the staff and got up, throwing the three-pronged knife towards the closest enemy before breaking in a sprint.

The short blade impacted on a tree, having been easily dodged by the human shape hidden in the bushes. As Conrad kept running towards them giving a warcry, the group of spies seemed mesmerized for couple of seconds by the knife's shape.

As they focused again on him, Conrad had almost crossed the clearing and was now able to see their figures even without the use of the spell, his right hand moving towards his axe's handle.

They panicked, for a reason the Nord wasn't able to discern. Scrambling out of their hiding spots, they fled with a nimbleness that Conrad’s gaze could barely catch. In the blink of an eye, they were gone, and out of the range of his spell.

Although he could still catch them by slowing time, he decided not to. He still don't know if they were his enemies or not. He don't want to antagonize wrong party ever again. But their sheer speed and agility exceeded every warrior or soldier he had faced. No wonder he hadn't been able to find their first stalker on the mountain pass!

He could still hear the echo of their screams, though, especially the two words they kept shouting over and over.

The Nord briefly wondered if 'Kiroi Senko' meant something like 'Run for your lives', but he was still puzzled by their reaction.

Why had they fled like that?

More importantly, he thought, as he looked at his right hand in confusion, why had he thrown that stupid knife, instead of using a good old-fashioned fireball?

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

In his years of duty as Konoha's Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen had taken to heart a single piece of advice: to keep a moment of his day to relax, a moment spent not having to think about the piles of documents and being able to be part of the village by living among its inhabitants instead of being locked in his office all the time.

Sadly, the current state of affairs had greatly reduced the time he could slack off from his duties. He had even been forced to eat his lunch in the office in the last few days.

He didn't bat an eye as one of the lights that had become the bane of his existence entered from the window and moved towards Minato's picture hanged to the wall, beside the other Kage before him.

"Five minutes late, today," he mumbled without stopping to read the papers splayed out on his desk. His eyes widened, before a scowl settled on his face. Just like a good part of the village's population, shinobi or not, he was getting too accustomed to the strange phenomenon that kept mocking all their defenses.

He went back studying the letters, hoping that the people responsible would be caught soon.

Tomorrow he would have to announce that Konoha had been selected to host the Chunin Exams. If foreign shinobi saw Konoha's "weakness", the word would quickly spread across all the Elemental Nations. Another village could even try something to test them.

Sarutobi really, really hated those lights.

“Minato,” he sighed, “maybe if you hadn’t left behind so many seals we wouldn’t have such a great security risk on our—”

His words died in his mouth as a small toad jumped in from the window, landing in the middle of his desk.

It seemed that Jiraiya had sent another report.

The small amphibian turned towards the Hokage, and with a barfing noise, it spat out a small sealing scroll that rolled amongst the important parchments, leaving a few drips of toad drool on its wake.

Then the toad looked at him almost expectantly, as Sarutobi stopped with a finger the scroll's drifting before more papers were soiled by it.

"Can I have candy now?" the summon asked eagerly. The Hokage frowned at the messenger toad, causing it to dispel in disappointment.

Once the puff of smoke cleared up, the now alone Hokage made some space on the desk and released the scrolls' contents.

There were only two items inside, but he almost not registered the handwritten message that was seemingly written in a haste.

His eyes were too focused on the bizarrely-shaped sword. A kind of sword he hadn't seen for almost thirty-nine years.

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

The feminine-shaped figure stretched itself, pirouetting less than a feet from the ground, the flames that framed its body lighting up the dark forest. Once it had finished, it turned towards its master.

“Patrol around the campsite,” Conrad ordered to the flame atronach. The summoned creature swiftly obeyed, and the Nord grunted in satisfaction. Between the explosive runes, the wards and the creatures he had conjured around the woods, the camp was secure enough. He decided it was time to rejoin the magelings around the campfire.

Four days had passed since they had left the clearing where he had found the weird knife that was now hung on his belt, along with his dagger. There had been no sign of their pursuers after they had fled, but he hadn’t survived for so long without taking precautions.

“Supper is almost ready, Master,” Sven said, hearing him approaching as he took a spoonful from the firepot. “Wish I had more spices.”

“Ta’Sava doesn’t care about taste as long as it’s filling,” the Khajiit mumbled from the spot he was sprawled lazily. “Ta’Sava is hungry.”

“You all would be forced to eat this stuff raw, if it wasn’t for me,” Sven said smugly, indicating his fellow student with his wooden spoon.

“Ta’Sava is also too tired to insult Sven creatively,” the cat boy replied.

“Well, if Sven hadn’t learned how to cook, Master Conrad would be forced to burn all our meals with his fire breath,” Beta giggled as she mounted her tent.

“Eight preserve us,” the Imperial muttered, causing his two companions to burst out in a laugh.

Conrad snorted, sitting down at the base of a tree, a little away from the fire and not looking at it directly. He didn’t want the flames to ruin his night vision.

He started to unbuckle his armour, placing the single pieces carefully on the ground. He hadn’t took it off at all in the last days and his whole body felt sore, every muscle aching in stiffness.

More importantly, he felt filthy.

The next river on their way, no matter what, he would take a bath. The magelings too, if they wished.

So long as there were no limiting circumstances, of course. Like groups of armed people following them.

“Here, Master,” Beta called to him, handing a steaming cup to him. “Dinner’s ready.”

He accepted it with a nod. Rice and assorted roots. Well, at least it was a warm meal he could enjoy before resting.

"So what do you think?" Sven asked to his companions, passing Ta'Sava his own portion.

"About what?" Beta asked, stirring the contents of her bowl.

"About Akavir," Sven clarified.

Conrad sighed silently. Of course they would not eat their rice in silence. He sagely decided to ignore them and frown at his own dinner.

"Nothing much, it would be better if we could talk with people," the girl replied, sounding actually sad. "I would like to see one of their cities, too. Real cities, not those small villages we passed by."

"We saw some nice mountains, though," Ta'Sava butted in. "This forest, too. Is big and weird. Ta'Sava has never seen most of the plants here before."

"We should get samples!" Sven brightened up. "You know, to see how they could be used in alchemy."

"It's so exciting! Nobody from Tamriel did this in centuries... we may even write a book about our journey once we—"

"That may not be a good idea," Conrad interrupted abruptly, not liking where the discussion was going.

"What?” the girl asked, stupefied. Beside her, the two boys were having a similar reaction at his words. “Why?"

"It's—" Conrad hesitated, not really sure what explanation he could give. "I don't think it would be wise to spread the word of our expedition, that's all. Or at least of who was part of it."

"You mean... that we can't talk about our journey to anyone?"

"Yes, that's what I'm saying," he said with a tone of finality.

"Master, are you—” Beta tried to ask, hesitating for a moment. “—are you ashamed of us?"

"What? Of course not.” Conrad clarified. How could she think that? “That's not—I just want to—"

"Oh I see it now. You want all the glory, don't you Master?” Sven sneered, meeting his gaze.

"The glory? What are you babbling about, Sven?" the Nord asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You don't want to share it with your magelings," the young mage continued. "This is probably going to be the most important research expedition of the century, and you won't want to divide the spoils once we will be back home!"

"The spoils? Sven, I—we don't even know what we could find here!"

"Sure you don't. You didn't even tell us where you found those runes. You know? The one we are following?" Sven insisted, slowly raising his voice. "Who would believe that you don't know what we're supposed to look for?"

"I—"

"I thought that you were supposed to be a legend, but in the end you're just a selfish liar that cares only about himself! You will not even tell us what were trying to search here. Or your real objective on what you were tracking! Are we that untrustworthy?!"

Conrad reeled from the comment, taken aback by Sven's biting tone.

He searched for his other students' gazes—a half-hearted attempt to prove to himself that maybe they didn't really think anything so ridiculous—but the moment his eyes met Beta's, she cast them to the ground, her fingers fumbling in her lap. He turned to Ta'Sava, expecting him too to call up Sven on his insolence, only to be met with a submissive silence.

They weren't supporting Sven, but they weren't disregarding him either.

He turned back to Sven, and saw his student staring straight back into his eyes. Conrad knew anger when he saw it, and recognized it behind Sven's glare.

Along with another thing: challenge.

Well, the Imperial wasn't the only one getting angry.

Conrad’s blood was boiling now, and he was sure that his eyes had become slitted. He could tell because his soul was demanding to put the young Imperial back in his place.

Instead—showing what he considered a considerable dose of self-control—he slowly reached for his bag, briefly rummaging through it before taking out one of the last two mead bottles he still had.

“Believe whatever you want, kid. I don’t have to explain myself to you. But think of this first before you think of anything stupid. I never wanted you to be here. You're the ones who joined this expedition of mine without my permission. I could've thrown all of you overboard at that time when I caught you. But I didn't. Not just because I needed some helping hands if we land but also because I respect your choices of following me. And seeing you now complaining about how I do things my way is plain stupid and childish. I don't care anymore,” he growled, walking away from the camp without looking at his students.

Conrad kept strolling until he was almost at the limit of the perimeter he had created around the campsite. Somewhere in the distance he could see his summoned atronachs moving around the dark forest. At least they still had the decency of not putting the whole place on fire. Teaching them to not do that had been difficult, back in the days.

“Stupid kids,” he said, as he popped up the bottle. “Why didn’t they just stay at the College?”

He drank roughly half of the bottle in one go, enjoying the sweet taste and how the alcohol smothered his ire.

What did they know about the risks they would incur if they became associated with him? Worse, if they became known as his students.

They were too young, they were too vulnerable and they were not prepared to the whole mess their life could become. Like his had become.

What did they know? What did they know of having to watch your back all the time, or the whole cloak and dagger business or having to be on the move the whole time, not staying in the same place for longer than necessary?

What did they know of finding their friends dead, their throats slit?

Of the people disappeared in the night, never to be seen again?

Of the companions and comrades dying for stupid reasons?

Of the lovers—

“Oh no,” he muttered to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to dwell on that.”

He took another sip. He didn’t want to remember—

His bitter musings were interrupted as he felt his connection to one of his summoned creatures being suddenly severed. Not even a second later, he saw a bright explosion in the distance, and some trees were set on fire.

His eyes widened. Somebody was killing his atronachs. And the magelings were alone.

Conrad dropped the bottle and started to run the way he had come from.

"Stupid, stupid stupid!" he scolded himself as he called upon his magicka reserves. "Why the fuck did I leave the camp?!"

He needed to be able to find their attackers. As the spell showed him the living beings in the surroundings, he felt some relief when he sensed the magelings.

They were alive, but apparently unconscious and there were more figures around them. Their pursuers, without a doubt. But there seemed to be more than four—

He heard the sound of something spinning besides him, nicking his left arm.

Conrad let out a grunt of surprise, the pain dull and not much compared to some past injuries, but what had he been hit with? That was too small to be an arrow or a throwing knife.

He needed protection anyway, and gearing up with his armour in the camp was not an option. Letting the magicka pass through his skin, hardening it so that it was almost as resistant as iron.

It wasn't like wearing his armour, but it would do.

Next thing, he would need a weapon—

He blindly dodged to his right, avoiding being impaled by a sword that instead barely scraped his hardened forearm. It hurt, but it didnt make any deep wound.

The enemy had been fast, very fast. It had caught up with Conrad at an impossible speed, just like the four stalkers that had fled from him in the clearing days before. Maybe even faster. Hadn't it been for his long experience on the battlefield, he wouldn't have seen the attack coming.

This guy was not one of them though. His attacker was wearing some kind of pale mask decorated with markings and a dark set of clothes that covered him from head to toe, with a matching armour to boot. In the dark of the forest, with the distant fire light reflecting off the smooth surface of the mask, it was actually disconcerting.

Whoever this masked freak was, he was more dangerous than those cowards. Not that it mattered.

Letting go of his Detect Life spell, Conrad sent two twin streams of lightnings towards his still crouched opponent, who just evaded them with a somersault that reminded him of some acrobats he had seen during his travels.

"WULD NAH KEST!"

Much to his enemies surprised, he disappeared from his previous location and appeared in front of one of them with in just split seconds.

Aiming for the solar plexus of the mask man, he kicked as soon as he landed immediately. The strike landed and get mask man bounced on the ground like a doll. It could kill a normal human being but he doubts that they were normal after seeing their inhuman speed and agility.

He used whirlwind sprint again to instantly jump to his students.

He casted detect life once again as he landed and was shocked to know that there are now dozens of them that surrounded the camp. Then casted a ward around his students. A defensive ward against physical and magical attacks, an original spell of his. Something that will disable other people from touching or taking them, if there's any case that the enemies in front of them tries to kidnap them. It would keep protecting them as long as he wanted to. Avoiding any burden during this fight.

As he was preparing for them with another barrage of spells, he sensed someone that is about to land on his back.

Seeing that he cannot defeat or repel them with simple spells alone, he decided to even the speed and agility of his enemies, if not, exceed them.

However, the dragon aspect could annihilate all of his enemies but he has two reasons not to use it. First is that he really don't want to kill them. He wanted to prioritize capturing and interrogating them first, if possible learn their language through the use of captured prisoners. A standard procedure for any foreigner on a hostile new lands.

At least, the years of fighting told him that these people really don't want to kill them, their objective is to probably capture them. A typical response of the natives against any foreigner on their land, as he would do the same. Unless they eat human flesh like a certain tribe he encountered in the past.

Second is his three students. He is confident that he could kill the enemies in front of him if he wanted to. But that doesn't guarantee the safety of his students, he doesn't want any innocent lives dying again like in the past during his rampages. Especially when he still don't know the strength of his enemies. Caution is always the first step of avoiding future trouble and unwanted casualties. Something that he learned the hard way in the past.

He needed to use something that could help him grab his students quickly if they needed to escape or capture his enemies. Something that has tremendous advantage during the night. The only thing that comes to that role is something he hated to use.

The Nord felt a strong grip on his right wrist and his shoulder and suddenly his whole arm was twisted behind his own back. Someone was trying to put him in a grapple.

Damn, these guys were really fast. They were not like those Thalmor elites he faced before.

Before the bastard could put him down on the ground, Conrad's body exploded into a bloody mist. It's like his skin and blood vessels had burst open simultaneously, causing blood to splatter around him.

What appeared in his place was a hideous form. His arms enlarged, his nails turned into claws, his size and height increased, his five senses turned into six and long bat like wings appeared on his back. His nose disappeared and was replaced with a long slit full of sharp needle-like teeth. His mouth had now three monstrous lips. His ears had become long that it looked like side horns. His exposed bloodied muscles turned black and contracted.

The person behind him has a mask on his face but he can now feel their shock and fear with his new heightened senses. He immediately jumped in their inhuman speed away from Conrad. The dozens of heartbeats around Conras is mesmerizing, especially to the form he is now. From their beating heartbeats, it seems this is the first time they saw a vampire lord. They should be thankful that he had lost his blood hunger way back or they will see a more terrifying him.

With this, Conrad roared that echoed through the trees. It sounded like a piercing loud shriek. The enemies around him seemed to be hesitating to attack him now. But he has own priority also, the first reason he had thought before. Now the night seemed to have turned even darker as thousands of bats flew into the sky from their caves, leaving terrifying screetches.

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

The man who had an appearance of the former Yondaime had now an appearance thats akin to demons of the old wive's takes. A creature that stalks the darkness to eat any unsuspecting prey. A yokai.

It seems someone had a sick joke of resurrecting the Yondaime and turned him into a monster. Most of them who knew the 4th and took him as hero of the village gritted their teeth in anger to the one who made this mess. They swore to pay them in retribution for desecrating their former hokage.

They immediately had to use jutsus just to keep him at bay.

Dozens of them shot jutsus after jutsus towards him only to disappear when they made contact with the creature's hands. There's a transparent shimerring that seems to bending it's surrounding.

"What kind of jutsu is that?" One of them muttered in shock under her mask.

"It didn't seems to absorbing our jutsu but it seemed to be just... Decontructing them." Another one answered.

Several of them tried to use a hostage scenario after knowing that the creature tried to defend and showed some care towards his three unconcious companions earlier. But somehow, they were protected by some unknown sphere. It is similar to any prison jutsus but at the same time, they feel it isn't.

"We are unable to take the three as they were protected by some unknown jutsu."

"Can't you disable it?"

"Negative, I don't even know what it is. And... there's no trace of chakra in it."

"..."

"Captain?"

"Guard them, just in case it dispels. We will concentrate with the monster."

However, the fight turned into a one sided battle. It's no wonder as their opponent was as quick and agile as them. Which is different from before.

Several operatives were able to corner him and slashed their weapons, only to feel empty air instead. The creature disappeared and burst into a cloud of bats. And appeared at a distance where it successfully punched their colleague in the gut.

"Genjutsu?!"

"No. I don't sense any chakra at all."

"Orders?" Despite their increasing fear, they stood their ground awaiting for their leader's command, not showing any of the former.

Their leader somehow felt that the creature they are fighting aren't trying to kill them. It had claws but it never used them to shred any of them into pieces but instead, it was just trying to knock out every one of them, one by one. Most of their casualties were just badly wounded but no one died yet. It's doing the same thing they wanted to do to him. They could use this.

"Distract him." They were running out of time. The destruction they caused would be attracting unwanted attention which could cause diplomatic incident if they were caught.

Three of them decided to use summons to even the odds.

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

Conrad had successfully knocked out dozens of them but he still have hundreds to go. He trully was right, these warriors seemed to be much harder to defeat than any human opponent he had before. Not because they are stronger but because of how their way of fighting would exhaust anyone who fought them.

They were mostly hit and run tactics. Sending spells after spells only to disappear on their last seen location when he landed on them. The soldiers in Tamriel would run or flee as soon as they saw this form, but these ones were different. He could feel their fear. But they weren't affected by it. Conrad realized that he was fighting a more professional type of soldiers than any Imperial Legion or Thalmor he had encountered before.

Despite his monstrous appearance and inhuman ability to disappear and appear, they never wavered. Something that impressed him more than it should frustrate him.

Their spells and martial arts where quite fascinating that it was truly similar on how he fought Minato in Soul Cairn. Just as he was thinking this, an enemy was able to dodge again his punch in a nick of time while his strike landed on a piece of wood stump. Although it left a distinct female scent, which he was able to immediately track her new destination. He once again transformed into a bats and flew quickly towards her.

She was able to get away but the bastard was not expecting him to appear on her back. The vampire kicked her opponent's shins and punched her on the mask, which cracked and broke from the force. But it seems Conrad was previously right. They were really durable as he had thought. The female warrior just went back to make handsigns again, with her cracking mask.

Another masked attacker quickly came close. Right in front of Conrad was her partner which he sensed was connecting his movements with the female warrior. Unlike others who carried short knives or daggers, this one had a long sword. Similar to the weapons of the Blades.

From their heartbeats, Conrad could sense that they somehow have emotional connection, a desire to defend someone he cares, something that is present only between lovers.

Lovers-

This word caused Conrad a split second headache which his opponent tried to take advantage.

But instead of attempting to strike the vampire down with his sword, he started to do strange gestures with his hands.

It was the same actions he saw to every warrior he is currently fighting before they could cast a spell. It seems this is their delay in spellcasting.

Conrad also decided to not waste the opportunity.

“FUS!” he shouted, causing the man and woman in front of him to stagger at the sheer strength of his Thu'um. They were thrown to the very back of the fighting. Which both hit the same tree.

But before they could do anything, he quickly gathered his magicka and released another spell. He sensed another heartbeat behind him, an enemy was able to sneak behind his back once again, aiming to cast his own spell point blank towards Conrad.

Is it their way of fighting to always get at the back of your enemies?

Unfortunately for his attacker, he was a vampire lord now. Conrad unfolded.his wings that seemed to be part of his back and used it to knock out his surprised enemy.

The night became so dark as it could get but Conrad could see that he was surrounded, thanks to his vampiric eyesight. Few of them were even hanging upside-down from three branches. Not that he cared how that was possible right now. He saw the unconcious unmoving bodies of his enemies. He was able to knock out a number of them. Enough number for guides and interrogation later.

But this time, for some reason, they were hesitating. Then as he turned, he saw three masked soldiers doing something at a distance. They bit their fingers and made another peculiar handsigns.

"Kuchiyose no jutsu!" They said something in their language then they pressed their hands on the ground.

With a puff of smoke, something new appeared. A deer, a bear and a boar. So they can summon also animals but in humanoid forms, armed with weapons. He heard them talking their summoners while staying their sight on him, then nodded and charged with others.

He could sense that the boar was speaking something then clap his hands together. Conrad however, don't have to wait for what it was.

The situation was immediate. A chain appeared from the ground and instantly coiled around his arm with a vicious tug. He didn't even have the time to dodge or party it. The chain tightened, biting his vampiric skin. another chain coiled to the arms of the boar. Connecting both of them. He tried to escape by turning into a cloud of bats but for unknown reason, he cant. it seems these chains were able to restrict the powers of a vampire lord.

Taking advantage of his disability, the other three masked freaks who summoned them started their attack at the same time. Casting multiple spells.

Twisting his trapped arm, Conrad yanked the chain with all his might, unbalancing the Boar holding it, making him collide against one of his partners, the Deer who was also preparing something before it was interrupted. He raised his two arms once again to cast ward to block the spells.

Turning around he was even able to block the strike of the Bear that was armed with a staff using his free wings. Then the Bear unleashed a relentless attack which his wings were able to block.

There was nothing he could do for his arms though. For some reason, they were unbreakable by his vampiric strength. And because of the three distractions, he didn't see another one coming.

He was kicked—kicked, of all things!—on his left ear, the blow was completely unexpected. A flash of pain exploded in his head as his vision became blurred. Conrad was pretty sure that if he had no vampiric skin and turned into a vampire lord, he would’ve been knocked out. The attacker was a masked figure with a cracked mask. It was that woman he thought he had knocked out!

Freeing the right arm from the now loosened but still attached chain, he turned towards the Bear who was getting slow with his attacks. The vampire could see its frustrations when his wings were able to repel his every attacks.

Conrad made his quick blind move with a vertical upward swing with his right hand imbued with blast spell. The Bear dont even noticed it was coming. He grinned as he felt the impact of the Bear's ribs, and how it made a point blank blast.

Only to widen his eyes when he realized what he had actually hit.

Instead of landing on a bear torso, the his fist was stuck in a thick log.

Before he could even ask himself what had happened, Conrad felt something smash onto his side, and he was sent flying through the air. The landing was not soft and he lost his grip of the surrounding as he tumbled across the dirt.

Using his wings, he quickly supported himself to stop on his back, gasping for breath. Limiting the damage he received.

The grass around him was already alight as he rolled back to his feet. Then something sprouted out of the ground, something big and Conrad instinctively tried to roll over to dodge it.

The Nord found himself unable to move in a blink of an eye. Then he saw the damnable chains on his arms once again, being pulled by the Boar. But it was something else who restricted his feet from moving towards the boar. Grasping and squeezing his legs. Glancing down towards them, he saw that a thick spiral of wood ensnaring his limbs.

In a different context he would’ve surely appreciated seeing such a marvelous example of Akaviri sorcery. Right now, though, he just yelled some profanities as he tried to blast away the wood that was trapping him—the blasted thing just increased instead in numbers after burning the first one into crisp using fireball spells.

"YOL TOOR SHUL!"

A condensed form of fire breath burst from his slithed mouth. Burning the encroaching wood into ashes, it created a large deep crater in its wake with him at the center.

The soldiers who surrounded him had to cast their own spells just to defend themselves from the blasts and flying chunks of rocks and soil.

Even spell chain caster at a distance struggled to keep his spell. The source of the wood spell however, just sent more waves of living wood into Conrad's body, quickly just as after he destroyed it.

More curses followed when the countless branches to instantly grew upwards, reaching his torso. He didn’t have time to deal with it, however, as one of his opponents had recovered and appeared with surprising speed right in melee range with him. He was holding something small with a needle. If not for Conrad’s decades of fighting experience, his reflexes wouldn’t have been fast enough to deflect the strike, which threw the peculiar weapon on the air and snatch the other man’s clothes.

Using his spare wings as his new set of arms, Conrad yanked the man towards him, causing him to lose his balance. As the masked guy was still falling, he punched, aiming for the head. He will have a hard time in getting used to the sound of his fist impacting against their mask, as it was very satisfying.

He tried to punched again with his back arms, until the strange wood immobilized two of his arms also, while his punching bag took another needle like weapon from his back and went closer in quick succession. Aiming for his neck which caused him to get closer, just enough.

Leaning his head back, he brought it forward with as much force as he could muster. The sound of a mask shattering, and the feeling of blood trickling down his face—not his blood.

The not-anymore-masked man fell down besides him but he could hear the other three coming towards him. He had the time for another shout again—and briefly considered using the Storm Call but... the magelings were too close. Bending time is useless so on this situation.

Accidentally frying the magelings was not an option. And he needed something able to put down these guys.

Why not do same thing two times in the same year? Maybe this time, he would be able to summon him.

"DUR NEH—" before he could finish his shout, he was suddenly racked with same headache everytime he tries to call for the undead dragon, ever since he met Minato. Then a familiar voice echoed in his brain. "You don't need to do that." Series of short glimpses of sceneries he never saw before came upon him in waves, along with pain.

It was the most painful headache he had that it forced him to dispel his vampire lord form, leaving him on his tattered almost naked form, grunting in pain while gripped by some wooden spell.

"Sorry Conrad but who knows what he will do to them if you unleash him. That battle maniac is not for this situation." Conrad could feel that the bastard talking to him is scratching his head as if he is making a bad excuse. He swore to beat the oblivion out of that brother of his once he see him again.

His enemy however didn't waste anytime and took advantage of the opportunity then unleashed countless of thick wood upon him. It covered Conrad as he is still trying to defend himself, but the pain was so great that he couldn't even think straight. By the time, the wood spell was finished, a thick smoke entered and threatened to choke Conrad. Only to feel dizziness and sleepiness seconds later.

"Fuck you, Minato." The last thing he could say before unconsciousness claimed him.

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

He dreamed the red haired woman again. He ran his hand through her beautiful hair, and she smiled at him.

She kissed him for the first time.

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

Pain.

Pain was the first thing he felt. A throbbing headache that was comparable to the mother of all the hangovers. Among various cuts and bruises on his whole body.

Which was good. It meant that he was still alive, even if it hurt like a bitch.

Besides the pain, though, there were other sensations that he started to feel as time passed and his mind started to work properly again.

He felt groggy, with a numbness that had probably not been caused by the strike that knocked him out. There was also a strange taste in his mouth.

He had been drugged.

It was not the first time this happened to him. At least, his captors were good enough not to put him into one of those smaller Iron Maiden cells of the Thalmor. The doses he felt flowing on his veins were naively less than what the damnable elves would use upon him. It's no wonder, the elves treated him like a dragon and was thus given large doses that could kill a man thousand times but apparently, this time he was treated as a human being.

He also felt the cold metal around his wrists, and the weight of the restraints placed on him.

He had been chained.

He was hungry and thirsty. Which meant that he had been unconscious for a long while.

He dared to open his eyes to check his surroundings. The light, even if dim, hurt. Conrad wasn't sure if it was because of the hit to his head or the drugs they had given to him.

It was a small room. Four walls, a door, and his chains. A cell.

He also found out that he had been sleeping on the floor.

At least it wasn't Cidhna Mine. The nostalgia keeps coming. He can't blame his mind as it had been a long time since he was captured or imprisoned by anyone.

He tried to get up but his legs were not responding. Maybe the drug had some effect on his muscles?

Managing to sit on his butt, vaguely taking note that they had left him his clothes at least—whoever they were—he started to look around the empty cell.

It was actually strange room. No stone, no bars in the door. A mirror, for some reason he really couldn't phatom. The strangest thing, the one that made him pause though, was the light source.

Conrad had expected a lantern or a torch.

Instead, stuck in the ceiling, there was a yellow light globe, that seemed to radiate light on its own, without a fire.

Was it some kind of spell? Or an enchanted item?

Conrad thought about it for a moment. A spell would've required a constant source of magicka to not dissipate after a while, and if that was the case he would've sensed it. At the same time, who would throw away money placing an enchanted light in a prison cell?

It didn't make sense—

He heard someone clear their throat to his left.

Conrad's head snapped towards the sound, or at least he wanted it to. The exhaustion, thirst and hunger rendered the movement incredibly slow.

He found himself staring a man that he was sure hadn't been there before.

A short, old man with white robes and a strangely-shaped red hat.