Chapter 4: Mind of Madness

Acarius Aediath did not like Japan.

From what he's read and seen so far, the eastern nation managed to survive the addition of Quirks the best out of the modern world. They boasted very low crime rates and were home to undoubtedly the strongest man on the planet, to his limited knowledge. Even their culture survived unscathed compared to many nations around them. Despite this seeming completely positive, the mage simply abhorred the methods used to achieve this status.

Japan became a truly authoritarian regime that favors bureaucracy and status quo over personal freedom. All in the name of order and safety, of course.

Coming from the Russian Federation, whose government was lackadaisical about actually keeping their citizens safe from growing threats, one might appreciate the sense of stability that Japan brings to the table. Acarius was not one of those people. Stability brought about weakness and complacency, in his mind. Every Russian he had met in his months stuck near St. Petersburg was a hard, cold person who seemed one bad day from seeking their own vigilante justice. The government was inept, so they did for themselves, in everything from making their own clothes to quietly solving their own criminal problems as a community.

In many ways, they reminded him of the people of Skyrim, who would rather follow an imbecile like Ulfric Stormcloak than be a part of a weak Empire that no longer benefits their people. Admirable in spirit, if not so great in practice.

The Japanese were nothing like that.

Dependency on authority was second-nature to them, in everything from ownership of weapons to public Quirk usage. Easily cowed by threats of violence, and quick to look to men like All Might to save them from despair. Never thinking to pull themselves out of it and fight their own battles. Don't get him wrong, All Might and those like him are benevolent people who deserve the praise they get, but the weakness his era of peace instills in the people can only be detrimental in the long run.

Who knows, maybe Heroes would stop being the shield they were seen as eventually, forcing the government to heroically step in with a new, even more authoritarian method than before. Government super-soldiers, mechanical defenders, plain-old firepower in the hands of militarized police?

Perhaps he was being hard on them. Or perhaps their government simply resembled the Dominion a little too much for his liking. All it would take is a change in ideology, and those can be changed, via force or demagoguery, as quickly as clothing. Then again, Acarius is but a rebellious mage who doesn't know the logistics of keeping a population safe, especially in a society where any person could simply be born as powerful as any Arch-mage of legend. Demigods in a godless world, capable of untold destruction. If there was any justice, no population would have to suffer him finding out what it takes to lead. Teaching was easier for certain.

Logical or not, he could not hold back his feelings of disgust as he walked the streets of Musutafu, one of the many cities that belong to the strange Japanese prefectural system around Tokyo. He was just patrolling the more populated areas for now, utilizing the GPS navigation of his cell phone to memorize the layout of his new hunting ground. Hunting he was, but to the average pedestrian, he was simply another man in a business suit going about his day. None could know that he was a wizard utilizing magic to disguise his attire, or that he was laying the groundwork to root out a Quirk smuggling operation.

The still-shaken mage had left no threads back to him in Russia. Rent was paid, goodbyes with landlords were said, and several criminals were kindly convinced that they had never seen his face before. The only ties he had were his on-record employment as a Hero, the proof of which he had discarded weeks prior before coming to his senses and returning for it later.

Although he had no intention of utilizing his official powers as a licensed Hero, it would be folly to not have it. Much thinking had been done after seeing a gods-forsaken Brotherhood member in this alien place, and his ploy to play Hero in Russia was not going to help him here. Those who would use children in such a manner are simply animals, and animals did not deserve the justice of man or mer. Therefore, the only logical course is to root them out himself, using any means necessary to survive and see their ends. That would lead him to that Brotherhood trash, and ultimate lead him home. It has to.

Unfortunately, this viewpoint he had developed definitely had some drawbacks. One was that every single place in Japan was massive, and more densely populated than any place he ever saw in Russia. The sheer amount of human beings living in one place was staggering to the elf. Finding one criminal operation here would certainly be like finding one used needle in a filthy, disgusting haystack. Criminals were as easy to find as restaurants, to his knowing eyes. The problem is, those he found were small-time smugglers, drug dealers, or just young punks with delusions of grandeur. Maybe they could threaten an old man or two, but not run international operations on the scale he saw in St. Petersburg.

Others were more competent, accomplished criminals who knew some things, but simply didn't belong at the level he was looking for. His prey were criminals operating in the 99th percentile of skill, influence, and ability to hide themselves. It was after almost a month of meticulously searching multiple cities to the best of his ability, that Acarius finally sat down and accepted reality.

He simply didn't understand this world as the ones he sought did. Fighting that fact was simply playing into his own people's largest problem: their undeserved ego.

Acarius was a smart elf, perhaps one of the smartest his people had produced in some time. Eidetic memory combined with his inquisitive nature made him go far in the world of magic, where power was only limited by one's own mind and connection to Aetherius. This cold, technologically advanced world of man, however, did not simply bend over for him. Common sense of Earth was not a commodity that he was rich in. Cultural differences made it hard to read the people around him, even after learning their language in record time.

Cities in Japan were unlike any place he had ever been in Tamriel, and differed greatly from the ones he saw on Earth. Finding a criminal enterprise that could elude the hardened authoritarian Hero system of Japan was not a logical puzzle that he could use his intellect to simply solve. It required greater planning, more knowledge than he possessed. He was smart enough to recognize these things as fact, but he still seethed every time he turned up another dead end.

And the internet? Don't even get him started on that. People on the internet were an enigma he didn't have the time or patience to crack.

In the end, the tired mage decided to do the only thing he could. He used the connections he made digging into the criminals around him to launder more money through counterfeit gold, then simply rented another apartment to plan his next moves.

It took another week of writing notes, burning said notes in fits of rage, and scouring the internet for Acarius to come up with his next move. The next move was his old move.

Employment. For real this time.

His current method of gathering wealth was simply too inefficient and carried the risk of bringing the authorities down on his head. Dealing with criminals for too long would just make him a criminal as well. Prison wouldn't help him escape his exile, nor would it clear his debt to society. Finding real employment was the only option, as he had already decided in Russia before his damnable Altmer pride got in the way. It just begged the question of what he could do.

Standard Hero work wouldn't pay much, to be honest. Utilizing his Russian license would allow him to try it, but the money would be pitiful, and he would be burdened with quotas and encouraged to appear more in the public eye. Joining an agency was the same, but he wouldn't even get the credit for the work he put in, which was frankly insulting.

That left him with the most terrifying option, in his opinion. He could apply to U.A. High School, the most prestigious academy for Heroes in the country.

Some of his more useful contacts learned through the grapevine that the principal was looking to hire a new teacher, as one recently retired. Hound Dog, the hero who would replace the teacher, instead remained as the guidance councilor, leaving said position still open. There was a job that many were probably seeking for themselves, and would no-doubt eat up most of his time. The benefits of said job would be astronomical for his mission, however. Connections to some of the most well-recognized and knowledgeable heroes of Japan could put him exactly where he needed to be.

Being a teacher for U.A. carried the greatest risks, but the greatest rewards. Said risks included having to lie to the face of a being that was probably more intelligent than him, then being surrounded by very dangerous individuals who shape entire generations of Heroes. His research into U.A. was honestly fascinating, especially the principal, Nezu. Tortured, scarred, and possibly traumatized by humans, yet deciding to be a guiding light to the peak of their society. Him being a Quirked animal only made it more interesting. Having to lie to this Nezu without being discovered would take courage.

Well, one can hardly be a coward when the goal is as important as his. Jumping on this became his first priority.

Making a plausible resume was a tedious and agonizing process that Acarius unfortunately had to do in a single night, after hours of research.

Normally a man with the proportional age of a mer like him would have a robust list of contacts and employers, due to the relationship between Hero work and the government. This was not the case for a murderous dimension-hopper stuck in his situation.

Frankly, the only real reachable job history he had was from Russia, and he wasn't even certain what his former employer, Petrov, would say about him. There was his Quirk registry paperwork included, at least. It made him look very versatile and intelligent, due to the myriad of powers he displayed despite having such an esoteric Quirk.

The rest of the resume was going to be modified truths and brutal honesty. His past will be steeped in mercenary work and private employment as an instructor for an institute for Quirk development.

Obviously he couldn't put down that he worked for the College of Winterhold, but he could still plant the seeds for his qualification as a teacher. As for the mercenary work...it was a calculated risk. It may very well make him seem undesirable in Japan, as the government handled all the woes of its people. A mercenary was just another type of criminal here.

If he was from a place that was completely unlike Japan, however...it may be a large boon to his credibility. A mysterious man with a violent past who now just wants to help others. In some ways, it was the truth. More importantly, it looked sympathetic while filling the massive gaps in his history.

Now, he simply had to find a country whose history most closely matched his own.

To be honest, it was easier than the mage imagined it would be. Earth was not a peaceful place during the initial spread of Quirks, with even the most developed countries falling into near-anarchy within the first few decades.

Records of those dark times are rather scarce, perhaps intentionally so. Japan does not want to many reminders of a time when the power of Quirks ruled their society, as it did other countries.

The best-preserved records are from the United States of America, which underwent several transformations over the course of this Dark Age. When their centralized government collapsed, they devolved into pure chaos for far longer than other countries, but the interesting part came when the anarchy stopped.

It was the exact opposite of the Japanese reformation: loose, decentralized government backed by local forces acting as militias in the 50 states of the country. As far as solutions went, it was extremely inelegant, messy, and didn't stop crime nearly as much as in the European and Asiatic countries. However, they preserved personal freedoms in a way that no one else ever attempted. Personal responsibility over public safety. Small communities managing themselves, making the country seem more like 50 different countries.

Public Quirk usage was allowed, as long as one didn't trespass onto private property. Self-defense using Quirks was not only allowed, but highly encouraged.

Acarius was actually rather enamoured by the sheer audacity of the U.S. to become the antithesis of their neighbors on such a scale. Naturally, their relations with said neighbors went downhill, but no one dared take action of any kind, for the sakes of all involved. Truly fascinating.

However, the U.S. could not help him with his story, as they've had economic and cultural stability for nearly 60 years now. He needed a country steeped in conflict and mystery, both known and unknown, much like how the denizens of Tamriel viewed the Summerset Isles.

It took another day of research for Acarius to come upon his solution. Said solution was located in the frequently-troubled continent of South America. Although many of the countries there faced adversity, the only one that matched the story he fabricated was Brazil.

Their Dark Age story was similar to most others, beginning with anarchy and chaos leading into full-blown authoritarianism. However, Brazil's authoritarian phase was particularly brutal, complete with a Quirk-based genocide and secret police. These dark times continued for nearly a century until a violent revolution took place, putting the region back into chaos. That revolution was around a decade ago, leaving a perfect amount of room for Acarius to have been both involved with the government and a mercenary in an unstable region.

He could pass as a government dog; he was a government dog. It was just for a different genocidal group: The Aldmeri Dominion instead of the New Republic of Brazil. Now, he could actually tell the truth to anyone who inquired about his motives. Acarius Aediath is a terrible man whose hands will forever remain sullied by the blood of the innocent, but remains determined to do good in the world by teaching others the lessons he was forced to learn the hard way. Government assassin to mercenary to teacher. His life perfectly summarized.

Yes. This was the path that would lead him home; he could feel it in his very soul. Maybe this would help him atone just a little bit more before he perished.

As he fell asleep in his apartment bed that night, the thought echoed once more within his brain.

Just a little bit more.

Acarius Aediath was finally at the end of his rope.

Years spent running from what he had done in his homeland were catching up to him. He had spent the last two months hiding in the Riften ratways, the most secretive place in the most obscured part of Skyrim. Gathering resources, making connections in the Guild, and formulating plans of his next escape were interrupted by Thalmor agents not-so-subtly making their presence known to the city's underbelly.

At first, the sloppiness of their intrusion comforted Acarius, giving him time to pack his stuff and use the teleportation circle he placed outside of the walls for a quick getaway. Unfortunately, it was quickly revealed that it was him who was sloppy, as the Thalmor had discovered the circle before sending in a a team to harrow him. Like a hare being chased into a trap.

After he made the mistake of teleporting outside of Riften, it was pandemonium. The main ambush consisted of over a dozen trained Thalmor soldiers and several other agents. Five Justiciar wizards attempted to restrain him using magic, but he had already incinerated two of them before they could attempt their ritual. Then came the running. Acarius had sprinted like his life depended on it, managing to evade attacks from the rushing soldiers.

Unfortunately, his luck had ended prematurely when he ran directly into the second ambush, led by his worst nightmare. In front of him, there was a single figure cutting off his escape. An Altmer woman of his exact height, adorned with a beautifully made malachite armor accented with the colors and symbols of the Thalmor.

She was a beauty among the noble families of Summerset, with her fair skin and dark hair, and could have lived a life of luxury after being married to someone wealthy who would never have her work a day in her life. Acarius knew her well, as he lived with her for the first decades of his life. They shared everything, from food to combat lessons, and were once as close as two people could be, in his opinion. His only ally living in that cold manor. His only friend for most of his life. His only sibling.

Second Commander Thaliea Aediath, serving directly under Ondolemar. She was a genius of martial combat, being named the best swordsman of their generation. Pedigree, raw talent, and decades of hard work allowed her to rise to her high rank and be allowed the honor of hunting down the worst of the Dominion's enemies outside of the Isles. Those would include traitors, murderers, heretics, and other dissenters.

Like her degenerate brother, for example.

Thaliea was not pleased to come face to face with her treasonous sibling after years of chasing him. Acarius was not pleased to come face to face with his once-loving sister in combat, for any reason. It pained the mage to see his only ally growing up reduced to a servant of the very people that made them both miserable as children. More than that, the thought of harming Thaliea threatened to made him vomit. Well, not that harming her would be easy for him.

She had inherited the Aediath Crest, passed on to the heir of their family for generations. It was a unique enchantment placed on the finest armor afforded to their affluent family that provided absolute immunity to nearly all types of known magic.

Dozens of mages were slain by her during the Great War, reducing the famous Imperial Battlemages to a shell of their former glory. Acarius remembered being in envy of her then, desperate to prove himself as a great mage himself. Pitting himself against the best of the Dominion's enemy magic would have finally proven to his family that he was a worthy son of the great house of Aediath. Unfortunately, the targets Acarius were assigned were of a...softer nature. He was tasked with reducing the population of civilians in the Imperial City, to inspire fear during the war, and making victory easier in future ones.

Negotiating with her would be futile, as he knew that she would not mice words with traitors. Her oath to her homeland was absolute. Her integrity was unwavering. She was a strong figure, the ideal Altmer in almost every regard. He used to be in awe of her because of that, but it would do him no favors now.

Fighting his sister with magic was simply not an option, so he was forced to combat her on equal footing. With shaking hands, he pulled out the ebony shortsword from the sheath behind his waist. He thought the sight of the sword would send Thaliea into a blind fury, but she stayed where she was, calmly bringing out her own blade.

It was a longer blade than his, being a full-sized arming sword, made from the Altmer's signature malachite. Glass, it was known as. The blade was adorned with near identical engravings to the own in his hand, with similar craftsmanship despite the different material. That was to be expected, as the blades were part of the same set, after all.

Duty and Honor

Duty was the larger weapon, and was always put before Honor. The two were supposed to be inseparable, as honor is gained from duty and duty brings about honor. It was Thaliea's decision to give him Honor long ago, as her fighting style was better suited to a single blade. She had also made it clear that she believed Acarius deserved something to remind him of his family. They were both children of Aediath, and would be as inseparable as the blades themselves, together even when apart.

To see him like this now, holding the weapon she gave him against their country, he almost couldn't blame her for what she must be feeling.

Her exterior was as it should be: stoic and rational. Not a single muscle showed him any emotion, but he knew better. He knew her in a way that no one else did, to his knowledge. That face may seem placid, but it was a storm of emotions to the eyes of the other Aediath

Hurt. Betrayal. Pain. Anger. Fury.

Acarius felt those same things too, but for different reasons. His pain was for what they both were forced to become. His anger was for the country and ideology that made it happen. She could see those emotions on his face as well, but it only seemed to make her anger greater.

Words would not be spoken between them, but they had already reached an understanding. Acarius would do everything in his power to win this fight, for what he believed in did not coincide with the machinations of the Dominion. Thaliea would do the same, for what she believed in demanded that she redeem their family name. He needed freedom. She needed his head on a pike.

She was a warrior of their people. He was just a mage. There was no way he could match her in physical prowess, so he did the only thing a mage could do. A pale green glow encompassed his off-hand, unbeknownst to his opponent.

The fight was over in seconds.

She struck first, rocketing from her position in front of him and launching a flawless overhead slash. Honor met Duty, locking both blades in place. Acarius knew that she was much stronger than her, so he didn't attempt to win their grapple. Instead, he did something that would baffle the both of them, and probably cost him his life.

His hand reached out and grabbed both of their blades. Magic ran through them both easily, as malachite and ebony were both excellent conductors of Aetherial energy. Despite being family heirlooms, the blades held no inherent magic themselves. The warriors of the prestigious Aediath family prided themselves on being very versatile, and therefore never wanted to have one set effect on their famed weapons. However, if one knew the blades well, and had enough control over the school of Alteration, then a weakness might reveal itself.

Thaliea made to stop him from whatever he was planning, but it was too late. Green energy went from his hand into the swords, engulfing them both in a pale light. Cracks started to form, growing larger and larger within a span of less than a second. His sister's face finally showed an emotion; horror. Warrior instinct made her move her free hand to protect her head, despite not knowing exactly what was happening. It proved justified when the energy reached its peak and the spell took hold completely.

The blades exploded into deadly fragments of metal.

Both combatants were showered with ebony and glass, the shockwave from the sloppy magecraft sending their bodies flying away from each other. Honed physique and heavy armor managed to keep the older sibling from going very far, landing her about seven feet from the site of the spell. Acarius possessed neither his sister's muscle or armor, and suffered for it.

The mage was in hell.

Landing much further away from the center than his sister, his body impacted the ground with a meaty thud. His tattered black robe was scorched, along with much of his upper body. Large openings in his attire revealed patches of flesh that were sporting large lacerations, along with some pieces of metal embedded in his torso. And the pain.

Acarius never went into shock from the blast, and was feeling every nanosecond of his body being mutilated by the metal shrapnel. He didn't notice that he had begun screaming, nor did he notice his sister righting herself to her feet and walking toward him. None of his limbs were responding to him, and any attempt to focus magic into a spell fizzled out upon inception.

Hours seemed to pass for the mage, every breath and slight twitch of muscle allowing the advanced materials of the swords to shred even more of his torso. For a hallucinated eternity, Acarius honestly believed that he was going to die.

Finally, as Thaliea came into his view, looking upon his downed form with a truly unreadable expression, the pain seemed to become muted. Screaming ceased, and he was able to focus again.

He didn't know if she knew what he had done, or how she felt about it. Either way, in these final moments, it had to be clear. Cracked, bleeding lips opened to send his message to the last true connection he had to Mundus.

"I only wish I could save you from that armor as well."

Darkness took him.

The memory jolted Acarius awake, causing him to flail slightly on the bed and knock over the alarm clock he kept on his nightstand.

Luckily, he had managed not to scream from the painful sensation brought on by his unwanted excursion into the past. Still, he believed dwelling on such things was unbecoming of him, considering the scale of the situation he was currently in.

He reached down to pick up the alarm clock and gazed upon the time.

10:05 P.M.

Frowning, he put it back down onto the nightstand. That couldn't be right. He had fallen asleep at exactly 10:00. He felt completely rested; there was simply no way that only five minutes had passed. Walking over to the window of the apartment, he moved aside his blackout curtains and braced to be met with the morning sun.

It was completely dark. The moon was just coming up over some shorter buildings.

Acarius was confused, but his restful lack of sleep wasn't really a problem, so he just let it go. Maybe now he could get some more work done to get his plan into motion.

I'm releasing this chapter, despite it being shorter than my preferred 10k word standard. Not sure why.

Just think of it as an exploration of the mind of someone like Acarius, who I would generously describe as warped.

Also, I like political ramblings about fictional settings, so there's some of that. Don't take any of that as some kind of statement about our world.

All feedback is appreciated, no matter the content. Cheers.