“Are you even listening to me, Shikaku?” Inoichi asked.

The Nara rubbed his temples before looking up from a pile of reports that were cluttering the desk in his home office. When the Hokage had delegated the less important ones to him, he hadn’t expected so many. He should’ve known better.

“Yes Inoichi, I was listening to you. But I think you’re overreacting,” he said, looking at his longtime friend and teammate. “Harissen-san was probably just explaining his people’s beliefs to you.”

“No, he was very adamant that they weren’t just—Look, he believed what he was saying!”

“Just because he believes it, doesn’t mean it’s true,” Shikaku said, trying to reason with the man.

“I know, I know. But you don’t—I’ve been studying that man for months now. While he could give Kakashi a run for his money when it comes to being a wreck, and almost certainly an alcoholic, he’s not crazy, and he’s not a liar.”

“I’m not saying that he is one, Inoichi. But you’re not thinking clearly—”

“Do you know what he asked for when he showed how those concoctions of his work?” Inoichi asked all of sudden.

“I didn’t know he asked for anything,” he wondered out loud.

“That’s right, he asked for nothing. He didn’t think that such a thing should be a secret, because it’s not where he is from. The same for that ‘magic’ of his… they teach it to anyone interested into it. Anyone, can you believe it?”

“I understand how odd that sounds, but it is a different culture,” Shikaku reasoned, wondering just how that would work. There were probably some restrictions the stranger had not mentioned, otherwise you would have an entire country overrun by impulsive idiots able to throw lightning from their hands with no hand signs or blow up multiple shinobi teams with a simple gesture. “I don’t see how that has anything to do with his claims about these… ‘Daedric’ people.”

“My point, Shikaku, is that he was talking about them like they were just another fact of life,” Inoichi said, putting his hands on the table and leaning forward. “Sure, he fears them, but he was talking about them like they were common knowledge. They are just normal for him, like the tides or the sun or the moon.”

“Are you sure you’re not letting your emotions cloud your judgement?” Shikaku asked, hating that he had to. “He has his face, after all.”

Inoichi stepped back, narrowing his eyes. “I know he isn’t Minato!”

“You say that, but I’m not sure that you truly mean it. Do you realize that you invited a stranger into your home? Where your family lives?”

“Do you know how many of our wounded are still alive thanks to him? Because of the ‘alchemy’ he shared with us?” the Yamanaka countered. “I think that he deserves the benefit of the doubt by now, Minato’s brother or not.”

Shikaku sighed. “Look, I understand why you’re worried. I am too.” The idea of capricious, powerful beings able to influence the world with no fear of retaliation was a chilling concept, to say the least. “But what do you expect me to do without proof?”

At the end, that was the heart of the problem. There was no evidence aside from a bitter man’s word.

“I want to interrogate the prisoner. The summon,” Inoichi said before Shikaku could ask which one. There had been plenty of prisoners left behind by the retreating Suna and Oto forces.

“The one that can’t even dispel itself?” he asked. This ‘Tamriel’ place was really odd.

Inoichi nodded. “According to Harissen-san, the… daedra, dromora, dremora, or whatever they’re called, they serve the ‘Daedric Princes’. If anyone can give us evidence, it’s him.”

“Then why aren’t you already at the T&I department?”

“Because I need the authorization of the Jonin Commander.”

Shikaku raised his hands with loud sigh, giving up. He picked a permit from his desk and quickly compiled it before passing it to his friend. “Don’t make me regret this.”

Inoichi nodded and left, a grim determination in his eyes.The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Shikaku alone once again.

Sitting back at the desk, he went back to studying the reports. After a few detailing the ongoing reparations on the village, he stumbled upon an unusual one. A smuggling ring had shown up out of the blue on the northern coasts of the Elemental Nations, possibly having operated for a longer time before the local authorities had become aware of their presence. So far the the criminals had not been caught, and since the ring was hitting the local economy instead of the Land of Fire’s, it hadn’t been deemed urgent, but that didn’t mean that Konoha’s informants wouldn’t keep their eyes on how the situation changed.

Looking at the date, Shikaku noticed something odd. It roughly coincided with the first sightings of Harrissen-san’s arrival in the Elemental Nations.

“Your brother is a very troublesome person, Minato,” he sighed.

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

Conrad looked around and, sure enough, he spotted the masked guard still tailing them from the rooftops. After eating all the ramen he could hold, which was a surprising amount given the boy’s size, Naruto had grabbed his sleeve and had began to pull him all over Konoha while spouting something about wanting to show him his place.

Naruto was explaining what the shops and places and stuff around them were, pointing excitedly as Conrad tried to keep up. He spoke so quickly that he could barely understand half of the words. The crowd around the streets kept giving them odd glances, which given how loud Naruto was being, wasn’t that surprising.

“So, boy,” Conrad said, speaking while his nephew had finally stopped to take a breath. “How do you become a genin?"

“Oh, I went to the Academy for a few years—that's like, Shinobi school. Sooo boring—and then we had a test, but I, uh… I kind of failed that,” Naruto explained, looking a bit embarrassed by the last part.

“Failed?” he asked, frowning in confusion. “But you are a genin.”

“Yeah, I am. See, after I failed the test, Mizuki-sensei said that I could still graduate if I learned a jutsu from this scroll that the Old Man has...” Naruto trailed off after mentioning the old Kage. “I hope he’s okay.”

“Who is Mizuki? I thought your teacher was Kakashi?”

“No, Kakashi-sensei is my jonin-sensei, Uncle. Mizuki-sensei was a teacher at the Academy,” Naruto started explaining, noticing the confused expression on Conrad’s face. “At the Academy, they teach kids. You know, until they graduate. Then, a jonin, who are super-cool Shinobi with tons of experience, start teaching you and your team.”

“Just teaching?”

“Well, no. You also go on missions.”

“Like D-ranks?” he asked, remembering how Inoichi’s daughter and Naruto’s friends were complaining about them.

“Yeah, like those,” Naruto grumbled, pulling a face. “But sometimes you get other missions, too.”

“Like what?”

“Like C-ranks!” Naruto stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“What are C-ranks, Naruto?” Conrad asked patiently.

“More important missions, like fighting bandits or protecting people!”

Conrad found himself missing a step, his hands clenched to fists. “I see,” he said darkly. So the siege hadn’t been an exception because of dire necessities. Nor had the tournament been ceremonial. While he’d had his suspicions, it did nothing to quell the anger pooling in his gut. Children were not fighters. Not at this age.

Next to him, Naruto happily chirped on, oblivious to his inner turmoil.

“But anyway, I got the scroll and it was super cool! I learned a really strong jutsu from it! Iruka-sensei caught me, though...”

“Another teacher at the Academy?” he asked, before realizing what the boy had said. “What do you mean, he caught you?”

“Mizuki-sensei… he lied, so that I would steal the scroll for him,” Naruto bit his lip for a moment, before speaking again. “Then… he attacked me.”

“WHAT?!” Conrad exclaimed loudly as he came to a stop, gaining the attention of everyone around the two of them, crappy disguise or not. It wasn’t the first time he’d made a scene in front of a crowd, so he didn’t care much for their glances at first, until he realized that they weren’t looking at him anymore. Instead, their eyes had quickly moved on to Naruto, looks turning into glares as harsh whispers started buzzing and the crowd around them became thicker.

Why were they reacting to Naruto like that, and not to the suspicious looking stranger walking next to him?

Naruto was standing beside him, his demeanour completely changed from exuberant to worried, and Conrad didn't miss the anxious glance he stole at him. What in Oblivion was going on here?

“Hey, brat!” someone shouted. Turning around, Conrad saw that one of the people in the crowd was pointing at Naruto. “Leave that man alone!”

Seriously, what in Oblivion was going on? He glanced at Naruto, who was looking back and forth between him and the rowdy passerby, obviously concerned.

"Didn't you hear me?" the man said, taking a few steps towards the boy. "I told you to—"

Conrad stepped in as soon as he saw the stranger moving towards Naruto, putting himself between the man and the boy. The citizen pulled back in surprise, clearly not expecting the Nord to get in the way.

“What do you want?” Conrad asked, straightening himself and glaring down at the man, tensing his body for good measure.

The man blinked at him for a moment, clearly not expecting this development. "Hold on, stranger! That kid—"

"Leave the boy alone," Conrad said between gritted teeth. The man took a step back in shock and the crowd started whispering, their glares replaced by confusion. Conrad gave them a glare of his own. "What are you looking at?!"

The man backed off and the crowd slowly dispersed, still whispering and glancing at the pair. Only then did Conrad look back at Naruto. The boy met his eyes, trying—and failing—to hide the confusion and surprise in his eyes. What could he even be surprised about? It couldn't possibly have been Conrad jumping to his defence, could it?

He put a hand on the boy’s shoulder and led him away, looking for a less crowded street.

“You well, boy?” he asked as soon as they weren’t surrounded by gawking or whispering people.

“Yeah, I am,” Naruto said, with a flicker of emotions the Nord couldn't really place.

“What happened there?”

“The villagers, they… they don’t like me.”

“Ha?! ...why?”

Naruto tensed for a moment before answering him. “I guess... it’s because I pulled a few too many pranks before becoming a Shinobi.”

“Pranks,” Conrad said flatly, deciding that his nephew was, among other things, a terrible liar.

“Y-yeah. You know, stuff like flooding the Academy. Or covering the teachers in glitter. Or drawing graffiti on the monument," he said, pointing at the faces on the mountain in the distance.

Conrad arched an eyebrow at the short list. “You did that?”

“Yeah! More than once!” the boy said, sounding a little better.

“... even your father’s face?” Conrad asked, trying to not smile and failing miserably.

“I didn’t know he was my dad back then…” Naruto said, pouting a bit.

Conrad snorted at that, while being pensive. If Naruto didn’t want to tell him the truth about why people disliked him, he wouldn’t pressure him. He could always find out later. Who knows, maybe normal citizens were uncomfortable with the idea of children fighting, killing, and…

No, he didn’t want to think about that.

“Come on, let’s go,” he said, patting his nephew’s shoulder.

“This way.”

“So, this… Mizuki. Where is he?” Conrad asked.

“I… dunno,” Naruto shrugged. “I think he was arrested as a traitor.”

The Nord nodded, thinking that this Mizuki was lucky that the Shinobi of Konoha had gotten their hands on him already.

His nephew led him through a few other streets and back alleys until they reached an odd-looking building. It seemed to have seen better days, but it looked sturdy. Naruto guided him to the top floor, where he dug in his jacket for a key.

As they got inside, the boy reminded him to take off his boots, to which he begrudgingly obliged, taking off the hat and cloak as well.

With that out of the way, Conrad took a look around the rather small apartment. It seemed nice enough to live in, if you looked past the mess inside.

Clothes were strewn over the floor all over, and as he followed Naruto inside the kitchen he saw dirty dishes in the sink and empty packages of food piling on the counter. An odd smell lingered, like trash that had not been thrown away in time.

“Ah, sorry… I didn’t plan to bring any guests, so I didn’t clean up,” the boy said said, slightly embarrassed as he picked up the clothes and tried and failed to make the small kitchen look better. As he was distracted, Conrad passed a finger on a shelf and frowned at seeing so much dust. Why did the boy’s guardians, whoever they were, let the house be reduced to such a state?

Although, Naruto had not called to anyone once they had arrived, not even to see if anyone was home...

“Would you like some tea? I’ll make some tea,” Naruto said, starting to put water in a kettle before Conrad could say anything. The Nord stared, fascinated by how advanced the internal plumbing in Akavir was, even more than the ones in the Imperials’ thermae. The boy then put the kettle on some odd contraption and lo and behold, fire appeared. Without wood to feed it.

Sure, they didn’t know about alchemy, at least the way Tamriel did. But they had packaged food that could last for months, stick-like “quills” with their ink inside them, those not-magical lights that made the city shine at night, advanced plumbing and now a cooking fire without wood. Who knew what else he had not seen yet? Conrad idly speculated how all of these things could work, but he was no engineer. He couldn’t help but wondered how such an advanced civilization could be so barbaric to send children to the slaughter.

“I have only green tea… is that okay?” Naruto asked, as he produced a small package from a shelf.

“It’s okay,” Conrad nodded, still finding the word odd. There probably wasn’t any booze in the house, so he didn’t even bother to ask. As his nephew started humming a tune, looking around for a couple of cups, he took a look at the rest of the house.

The untidiness wasn’t normal, like the fact that no one would be home a little after lunch time. Picking up an odd-looking shirt, he noticed that all of them were children-sized clothes, not a single piece of adult garments in sight.

He opened another door, hoping to find some answers. Instead, the unsettling feeling in his gut rose to new heights.

Walking back to the kitchen, he saw that Naruto was setting the table for the two of them, with cups and a small bowl of sweet-looking dumplings.

“I think these are still good! I didn’t have time to get groceries, between the tournament and the invasion and the D-ranks and…” Naruto’s voice trailed off as he noticed how Conrad was staring at him from the kitchen’s door, silent. “Are you alright, Uncle?”

“Why there is only one bed?” he asked, almost dreading the answer.

"Uhm... because there's only one person sleeping here?” Naruto asked with a confused frown, missing what he meant. “Oh, did you want to stay here? Maybe we could ask jiji to bring another bed!"

Conrad felt ice forming in his belly as he fully realized what his discovery meant. He slowly walked closer to Naruto and, much to the boy’s confusion, knelt down to look him in the eyes. After hesitating for a moment, he placed his hands on his shoulders.

"Boy, how long have you been living on your own?"

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

Ishina was not having a good day. Surviving an invasion was supposed to be good news, but being kept in a room somewhere for days after it wasn’t. She should have expected it, honestly.

Being imprisoned in all but name wasn’t what frustrated her the most, though.

“I’m back!” Hatake Kakashi called cheerfully as he entered the room where her team had been confined to. He seemed to ignore their unamused glares as he placed a bag on the small table and dramatically revealed its content. “I brought you lunch.”

“Ramen?” she asked, arching an eyebrow at the jonin.

“From the best ramen stand in Konoha.”

“It’s lukewarm,” Kurotsuchi grumbled as she picked up a bowl for herself.

“I’m sorry, but on the way I met someone that reminded me of an old friend,” Kakashi explained in an almost bored tone.

All her ‘students’ looked at her, as if to ask if they should eat. She took a look at the ramen that was given to them by one of Konoha’s best jonin, sniffing. She didn’t smell anything odd and, after looking him in the eye, she picked up the chopsticks. If they wanted to kill them they would’ve used something less elaborate than offering them poisoned food. Probably.

"So, why aren't we in a cell?" she asked as her ‘genin’ started eating.

"Because you’re not prisoners, obviously. You're guests."

"I didn't know that guests were forbidden to leave the village," Yano snarked, gaining a scowl from Ishina. As much as she didn’t like their situation, they didn’t need to antagonize Konoha-nin. For now.

"True, but most guests are not from a rival village. Or happened to show up for an invasion."

"Then why didn't you throw us into your T&I?"

"Well, you were attacked by both Suna and Oto shinobi during the battle. Especially her," the jonin said, pointing at Kurotsuchi. Ishina kept an emotionless façade, but she couldn’t say the same for her ‘students’. "If I have to take a guess, though, my Kage would like to know why you lied about being a genin team."

"What are you talking about?" Ishina asked, feigning ignorance. Before Kakashi could answer, though, the door opened to reveal a large man with white hair.

“Oh, Jiraiya-sama. Welcome. I was entertaining our guests,” Hatake greeted the newcomer. Ishina clenched her jaw at seeing both the Yellow Flash's mentor and pupil standing in front of her. She had to grasp her ramen bowl firmly to remember to not do anything stupid.

“Really? I didn’t know we were having the Tsuchikage’s granddaughter as a guest in the village,” the Sannin said with a probably fake smile. She heard Mizu nervously hold his breath. Even Hatake looked surprised when he heard that.

“No, you’re wrong,” Kurotsuchi tried to protest, her ramen all but forgotten. ”I’m not—”

“I run a Hidden Village’s spy and intelligence network, girl. Don’t insult me,” the older shinobi said, taking a seat beside them.

“You already knew…?” Ishina asked, unable to remain silent. The Sannin shook his head.

“I didn’t notice at first, because I was busy training an apprentice of mine,” Jiraiya said, seemingly not noticing or caring about Ishina’s shocked reaction. Another apprentice? The man that had created the Yellow Flash was training another apprentice? “But after I was told that during the battle at the stadium some enemies had targeted her specifically, well, I got curious.”

A moment of tense silence followed, none of the Iwa shinobi being interested in their food anymore.

“You don’t like ramen? That’s too bad, now it’s getting cold,” Kakashi said, looking her in the eye. Ishina glared at him as hard as she could, but sadly that wasn’t enough to make him drop dead on the ground.

“We already know who you are, Gareki-san and Kurotsuchi-chan,” the Toad Sage started. “So why don’t you boys introduce yourself as well?”

All her teammates looked at her, as if to ask what to do since she was the commanding officer. She thought over it for a long moment before nodding: their cover was blown anyway.

“My name is Toride Daiki,” ‘Mizu’ said begrudgingly.

“Kyoda Sota,” ‘Yano’ proclaimed defiantly.

Jiraiya looked skeptically at both of them for a short moment. “Never heard of you two. I guess you’re not that well known.” Both boys looked a bit miffed that a living legend of the shinobi world had not heard of them, for some reason. “I take it that Kurotsuchi-chan was chosen because there were no other recently-promoted chunin with enough skill for your assignment?”

“What do you want?” Ishina asked bitterly. There was obviously a reason why they were telling them this instead of throwing them into four isolation cells.

“I’m just having a polite conversation with some important guests,” Jiraiya said with a too-wide grin to be fully genuine. “Although I would like to know why you decided to take the chunin exams again, unless there was a valid reason to risk an international accident...?”

"You know why," Ishina said after pondering their options. If Iwa had heard about the Yellow Flash's sightings, so had Konoha. The two not-Iwa shinobi in the room had been involved in Namikaze Minato's life and if he was alive, they knew. Her answer was vague enough that it would allow her to gain time if they kept interrogating her.

She held the man’s gazes for a few seconds, feeling like his eyes were piercing her. “I see,” the Toad sage finally said and she couldn’t help but feel like he had not bought it in the least.

“What will happen to us, now?” Ishina asked, half-ready to jump over the table at this point. It would’ve been a suicidal move, especially with Kakashi of the Sharingan in the same room. Maybe she would be able to create an opening for her teammates, to give them a few seconds for—

“Nothing. Why would anything happen to you?” the Sannin asked, making a face like he didn’t know what she was talking about. “The chunin exams were interrupted by an invasion from a third party and you were caught in the middle of it. I'm sure that the Tsuchikage would be pleased to know that Konoha protected his candidates during such a troubling event, especially since one of them is his own granddaughter."

Ishina could only gape at the older man. She had expected some form of interrogation about their mission, or why they had went undercover. Something. Not being asked anything wasn’t what a Shinobi expected when imprisoned in a foreign village.

“I’m sorry, but… what?” Kurotsuchi asked for all of them.

“If you would like, we could send a messenger hawk to Iwa, so that you can contact your Kage. Of course, we would also want to send a letter of our own to assure him that you not only helped fighting the invaders but that our jonin guaranteed your survival as well.”

“And tell him what?” Kurotsuchi asked bitterly. “That you intend to use me as a hostage?”

“No, to tell him to send someone to bring you home.”

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

Inoichi was starting to wonder if this had been a good idea.

He had expected an unusual experience since the mind he had entered was a summon’s and not a human’s, but he had not imagined it would be like this. The psyche was difficult to navigate, the scenery around him constantly shifting and twisting around him in a mess of labyrinthine halls, hallways, and the occasional odd structure that didn’t seem to follow traditional geometry. He couldn’t help but wonder if the daedra was able to unconsciously block him.

Or endanger him.

Inoichi found himself stopping every now and then to throw a glance over his shoulder. He could swear that he had seen something moving in the corner of his eyes, but everytime he looked back he saw just the twisting mindscape. The Shinobi kept saying to himself that he was just seeing things, but that didn’t stop the hair on his neck from standing.

Shaking his head, he took a step only for the stone floor to collapse all of sudden, turning into a cold sludge. The ceiling and walls crumbled to dust and Inoichi found himself staring at a cold, desolate landscape littered with ruins. It was colder than anything Inoichi ever felt, yet the sky itself was burning.

As the dust hit the sludge, creatures sprung up and began fighting all around him. Some were the not-quite human-looking dremora, like the summon he was mind-walking into, while others had significantly more monstrous appearances.

Small things that scampered around, overwhelming their opponents—or prey?—with sheer numbers. Mighty reptilian beasts that tore their enemies with claws and powerful jaws. Huge abominations that looked like an horrible fusion of human and spider blast whoever stood in front of them.

The battle wasn’t limited to the land, but raged in the sky as well. Winged creatures of different kinds fought among the blazing sky and a few of them fell into the sludgy ground every now and then.

He found himself charging into the fray, a wicked-looking sword in his gauntleted hand. The weapon clashed with another daedra’s weapon, and Inoichi yelled in a cruel-sounding language with a voice that wasn’t his, feeling only contempt and hate for this enemy. The worm snarled and replied by trying to cleave him. Inoichi stepped back, having no control of his body.

A memory. He had fallen into a memory without even noticing and was now witnessing the events from the daedra’s eyes, his conscience drowning into the dremora’s.

Definitely not a good idea.

He watched helplessly as his… no, the dremora’s body twisted to avoid the strike. He felt the gauntleted fingers gripping the sword’s hilt tighter before the whole arm went for a killing blow. The other dremora’s head was cut off from his neck, and tumbled down on the ground. As soon as it touched the foul-looking sludge that covered the surface of this strange land, it started to melt, as if it was made of a dark liquid. Everything else around Inoichi began to liquify as well, fighters and landscape alike.

A dark tide enveloped him, flushing him away. Inoichi found himself swimming against it, once again able to control his actions. He tried to focus, ignoring his instinct to breathe since he didn’t really need to here. Had the dremora’s mind thrown him out of a memory?

He felt himself being pulled away, like if he was trapped in a current or a whirlpool. No matter how hard he tried to swim against it, he ended being sucked into it. It was like falling and drowning at the same time.

The shinobi was half-expecting to crash on the bottom of some abyss when he suddenly found himself slamming against a chair, ending up in a sitting position. The cold numbness and the sensation of watery darkness on his body was gone.

It was a different memory, but he couldn’t tell if it had happened before or after the battle he had witnessed. He found himself sitting at what looked like a banquet table, chewing on something, once again unable to control his motions. Inoichi couldn’t place the taste but he could tell that the dremora was really enjoying it. He tried to take a look around and saw a plethora of other dremora partaking in the feast, drinking and eating and laughing.

He tried to get a good look at the room but he was forced to look at what the dremora was looking at, while one of the other patrons tried to involve him in some sort of conversation he couldn’t understand. Inoichi could tell that this individual bored him and he found what he said to be tedious and pointless. He was able to glance besides his seatmate, noticing how the vast room was decorated by a plethora of tapestries, most of them sporting a snake coiled around a fist.

He—no, not him dammit, the dremora—gulped and he felt the food slip down his throat and he found himself craving for more. He lazily turned around and grabbed something from a large bowl on the table.

Inoichi couldn’t help but stare. There was a bowl of human hearts in the middle of the freaking table, and he was holding one in his hand. He couldn’t do anything to stop the hand from getting closer to his mouth, a dawning horror taking hold of his mind.

He felt his… the dremora’s teeth bite into the organ’s flesh like if it was a ripe fruit. As expected, it was delicious—

Inoichi found himself wishing to be able to puke, as the dremora enjoyed his snack and made him savor every moment of it.

When the daedra stopped eating he was too relieved to immediately register the hushes falling over the feast. Daedra started turning in the same direction, whispering and getting up from their seats, only to fall to their knees. The dremora followed suit and Inoichi found himself staring at the floor as silence fell on the hall. The only sound belonged to some steps, getting closer and closer.

The dremora whose eyes he was looking through, having felt its horrid meal, felt… humble? No, not humble. It was more like being aware that he was in the presence of someone, or something, that stood at the top of the food chain. Something incredibly beyond his reach, to which he and his clan had sworn to serve.

As Inoichi was intrigued at the discovery that dremora had clans and loyalties, someone passed right in front of him. He saw two heavy boots, followed by something like a cape, or a robe, that slithered behind them in an almost serpentine way.

For a moment, the sounds of step grew more distant, echoing in the silent chamber. Then they stopped and, after a moment of hesitation, began getting closer again, until Inoichi saw the boots again stopping in front of him.

He heard a command addressed to the dremora, and he obeyed, looking up. The being in front of him that put awe and fear in the daedra around him looked like a caped warrior with grey skin, but for some reason Inoichi wondered if it was a male or a female.

The warrior was giving him—the dremora, this was just a memory—a scrutinizing gaze, cocking his, or her, head.

The creature said something, but no answer came from the dremora. Inoichi kept staring at the being’s eyes, starting to feel uncomfortable under their gaze. The robed warrior repeated the question, sounding impatient, and the shinobi realized that it wasn’t addressing the dremora.

It was talking to him.

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

“Uncle, please slow down!” Naruto called, to little to no effect. He tagged along helplessly as his uncle stormed down the street. They got more than a few strange looks. "Where are you going?!"

"To talk with the Hokage," the older man snapped.

"The Old Man is not at the tower, he's at the hospital," Naruto reminded him, noticing the direction they were going. His uncle seemed to hesitate for a moment, then he took a look around and changed direction. Naruto followed suit, his heart pounding in his chest. His uncle was furious, he could tell. Was he going to leave or something?

“Wait, stop!” Naruto yelped as he grabbed his uncle’s old coat. Instead of stopping, though, the man just kept walking, dragging Naruto behind him. The genin decided to change his approach and rushed in front of the man, pushing against him in an effort to get him to stop. He managed to get some results only when he started to stick to the ground with his chakra. "I don't know why you're angry, but I'm sorry! Please stop!"

At that, his uncle finally stopped pushing, and looked down at him in confusion. “I am not angry at you, boy.”

Naruto looked up in surprise, and noticed how worried his uncle looked. "You're... you're not?"

"I am not."

"Why are you angry, then? I don't understand," he asked, and his uncle scowled again.

"I'm angry because they left you alone for no reason," the older man explained. Naruto opened his mouth, almost saying that there was a reason, but bit his lips before he said anything. What if his uncle got mad at that? What if he reacted like the villagers had?

"So I am going to talk to the Hokage and ask why you were not..." Conrad continued, not noticing Naruto’s almost slip up, only to trail off as he searched for the right word.

"... adopted?" Naruto offered. He hoped his uncle would learn more words soon.

"Does it mean have someone take care of you?"

"Yes? Mostly?"

“Then yes, I want to ask him that,” Conrad nodded. “Now, stop blocking me.”

Before Naruto could decide if he wanted to comply or protest, though, someone coughed loudly to be noticed. Both blondes turned to see an ANBU standing beside them.

“What do you want?” his uncle asked with a deeper scowl.

“Forgive me for interrupting your bonding moment, Harissen-san, Uzumaki-san, but I just got a message on my radio, and—”

“Your what?”

“Radio, it’s a device that—nevermind that, listen. There’ve been some problems with the prisoner that you helped capture, Harissen-san. They’re asking for your help.”

Naruto remained silent as his uncle looked down to him. The boy had no idea what was going on, but he seemed really worried all of sudden. With a sigh, the man turned to the masked shinobi. “What kind of problems?”

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

The walls were unassuming and dull but kept giving Conrad a sense of déjà vù. It took him a moment or two to realize that he had been in this place roughly a month ago.

This was where he’d been taken when he and his students were captured. A pair of tense-looking shinobi directed him through a door, and brought him face-to-face with Inoichi.

The blond was sitting in a chair with a blanket draped over him, a steaming mug ignored in his hands. He wore a shell-shocked expression on his face like he’d just taken a walk through the Soul Cairn. Conrad looked at the other Shinobi present in the room, as if to ask an explanation, only to remember what Inoichi had done to him the last time he had been in this place.

"You... moron!!" he hissed, walking close to the shaken man and grabbing him by the shoulders. "What did you do?!"

Inoichi blinked as if he was coming out of a trance and blandly stared at him.

“I… m-m-met one... He w-w-was in those memories... H-he talked t-to me… Conrad, h-he saw me and t-t-talked to me… He knew I was there... H-he knew.”

"You mean, the daedra knew--"

"No... It w-was... one of them... One of the others."

Inoichi's words hit their mark like a warhammer. Conred wanted to protest, to say that what Inoichi was trying to tell him was impossible, but he couldn't. If a daedric prince was involved, normality and plausibility had already been thrown out of the window. His chest felt tight, his throat dry and suffocating. How bad was it?

"I s-s-saw things…” Inoichi continued before the Nord could recover. “The s-s-sky was fire… and I drowned... And…the h-hearts… I ate one…and I—" The shinobi paused, taking a deep breath and trying to compose himself. Mumbling an apology, he sipped the tea before opening his eyes again. "What have I done?"

Conrad opened his mouth as if to speak, not really knowing what he wanted to say. Before he could make a sound, a hand landed on his shoulder, making him flinch. He had almost forgotten that other people were in the room as well.

"Harissen-san," a man with spiky hair that looked somehow familiar said. "May I speak to you?"

Conrad gave a troubled look at Inoichi before following the other man out of the room.

"Will he be alright?" the man asked after a few moments of silence.

"I don't know," Conrad answered, realizing why the man had looked familiar. He had met him along with Inoichi and a big fellow during the battle. "I don't even know why he would even try such a foolish thing."

The man’s eyes narrowed. “He did that to confirm your story.”

Conrad grimaced, realizing he had just put his foot in his mouth, boot and sock included.

The two of them stood in silence in the empty hallway before Inoichi's friend—whatever his name was—spoke again. "I need to know if we can contain this."

"I would have to speak with the daedra first. And they're not prone to collaborating with people."

"Can you persuade him?" the shinobi asked, his expression making it clear that he meant one way or another.

Conrad hummed, wondering about it. Forcing an unbound daedra to give some answers to a bunch of mortals he didn't like?

"I think I can try, but I'll need help," he finally said.

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

“Why am I here?!” Sven asked. Less than ten minutes ago he had been trying to avoid being interrogated by a twelve-year-old girl and then, after being pretty much kidnapped without any explanation, he was being pushed by his own teacher through a hallway full of cell doors.

“Because you caused this mess and you’re going to do your best to fix it,” master Conrad explained in their native tongue as their shinobi escort stopped in front of a massive metal door. Sven was confused until he realized who could be behind that slab of iron.

“Can’t we just banish him back to Oblivion? That would solve the problem, right?” he asked hopefully. That only gained him a serious look from the older Nord.

“If he was telling the truth when we captured him, then no daedra had shown up on this continent for a millennia. Given that the shinobi don’t seem to know about them, he probably told us the truth. Or part of it,” he explained as the Shinobi started to work on the door. “Whatever reason for why this happened, I would rather find a way to salvage it.”

“Why?” Sven asked, almost automatically.

Master Conrad gestured to the people beside them. "No matter how formidable their warriors are, they aren't equipped to deal with daedra. Tamriel has been used to that kind of trouble long before the Oblivion Crisis. But Akavir, on the other hand, is utterly unprepared."

At that, Sven felt his throat become dry. "But then, if anything bad happens... it's because I—”

"Yes," the older wizard told him bluntly, not even sugar-coating it a little bit. Sven started feeling dizzy as he realized how badly he had screwed up. The Dovahkiin didn’t give him time to dwell on it, though. "Don’t think about it now. Remember, be careful about what you say in there, for daedra are known to twist a mortal’s words to get what they want. He wants to get free and be sent back to Oblivion, and we can’t allow that until we know more, understood?”

Gulping down whatever words he had wanted to say, Sven nodded, and his teacher Conrad nodded as well at the shinobi. With a loud creak, the metal door was slid open, and the two wizards walked inside.

The dremora looked unfazed by their presence, even after being encased from the neck down in a stone pillar covered in paper tags. Sven couldn’t say the same, feeling sweat starting to drench his skin at the sight of those unnatural eyes. The only reason he didn’t get rooted on the spot was the callous hand pushing him through the door.

He flinched as the door was slammed shut behind them, trapping him in the room. He was hit by a sense of vertigo as master Conrad let go of him and started to walk around the pillar, examining the paper filled with runes.

Was he panicking? That couldn’t be right, Beta was the one used to panicking. He was the one that liked books and cooking.

“Aah, the young mage that summoned me came to visit,” the dremora said, looking straight at him. “Dismiss me, and I promise you that you will not suff—”

There was a slapping sound and Sven felt his fear... not disappear, but mostly replaced by confusion, which seemed to peek from the daedra's face as well. He must have been seeing things. Obviously Master Conrad had not just slapped a dremora's head as if it was a petulant child.

Said dremora seemed to be thinking the same thing before his puzzled expression quickly morphed into anger. “You—”

“Sven here is not going to do such a thing, unless I tell him to,” the Nord said as he ignored the promise of pain and death and more pain and walked back to the front of the pillar, facing the dremora again. “And I won’t tell him until I’m satisfied. You see, I have questions—”

“I don’t have to answer to you, mortal,” the dremora said as he tried to look back at Master Conrad, albeit it was rendered a tad difficult by the pillar. “I am not bound to your service, nor to your apprentice’s.”

“You will answer our questions, though,” the man said, in the coldest way than Sven had ever heard him. “Because if you don’t… I’ll rip your soul from your body with my bare hands.”

Sven could’ve sworn that the dremora had stiffened for just a second, but he seemed to regain his composure as he spoke smugly. “You wouldn't dare... you don't want my master as an enemy."

"As if!” Master Conrad snorted, but there was no mirth behind it. “I doubt that whichever bastard you serve would care for losing one among numberless servants.”

"You dare?!” the dremora bellowed, causing Sven to take a step back. Mostly in surprise for the sudden shout. Yes. That was the reason. “I serve Boethiah, the Dark Warrior, Deceiver of Nations, Queen—”

"You think I care?” the Nord told the daedra, shrugging off the nasty glare he was receiving.

“Err, master?” Sven said nervously. “You might not care about being the enemy of a Prince, but I’m not—”

He found himself silenced by a raised finger, as if to warn him to shut it. He wondered again why in the name of the Eight he had been forced to come if his opinion didn’t matter.

"I WILL FEAST UPON YOUR HEARTS AND INNARDS AS—"

Another loud slap ringed on the room once again. Then Conrad went closer and looked into the dremora’s eyes with his own slitted dragonic eyes.

"I am the damn Dragonborn, you’d really think that you would get the chance?" Master Conrad said, his words stopping the daedra's angry tirade almost instantly. "You will either accept to be bound to my apprentice, or spend the rest of eternity in a soul gem."

Sven glanced at his teacher, surprised to hear those words. He had never heard Master Conrad talk about Enchanting. Besides, wouldn’t they need a black soul gem? The dremora remained silent, looking at the older wizard as if to peer into his soul.

"I could throw it in a well. Or use it to enchant something," the man kept going. "Not a weapon or an armor, mind you. Probably something stupid, like a kettle that warms my morning water faster.”

The dremora looked genuinely panicked at that.

"Actually, that doesn't sound that stupid—" Sven said, only to stop as two pairs of eyes turned to glare at him simultaneously. After a few seconds, the dremora turned back to the Nord.

“If I accept…”

“Then you won’t be doomed for eternity to the Soul Cairn, and I won’t commit the greatest waste of an enchanting that the world has ever seen,” Master Conrad said.

“Very well... I accept your terms,” the daedra said with a resigned tone after a long silence.

“Sven, come here,” he was told. The Imperial boy obeyed, still looking warily at the dremora for a moment, before wondering what he is supposed to do. The scroll he had learned the spell hadn’t exactly explained what came next.

“What should I do? Is there a ritual, a ceremonial phrase, or…?”

“Just ask him if he submits.”

Sven nodded and turned to the dremora, who was studying him intently. “Do you submit to my will?”

“Yes, Master,” the dremora said with gritted teeth. “I submit.”

Sven waited for a few seconds, wondering if he was supposed to feel something. A tug, some connection between him and the daedra, anything. Could it really be that simple?

“Now that the formalities are done, tell us why daedra haven’t shown up in Akavir for a millennia,” Master Conrad ordered, to which the dremora promptly… didn’t answer, opting for a smug, silent smile instead.

Sven started wondering what could’ve gone wrong, if the dremora was actually bound, only to be snapped out of it by his mentor coughing. Was he getting sick or—Oh.

“Tell us why the daedra didn’t appear in Akavir for a millennia,” Sven ordered with the most commanding voice he could muster.

“And the Princes, too,” Conrad added as an afterthought.

“And the Princes as well,” Sven repeated dutifully. At least the day was going to be interesting.