I Became a Side Character in the World Of Skyrim

The journey to recover the artifact of the Elders the Elder Scroll carried them ever deeper toward Blackreach, beneath layers of ancient stone where the Dwemer once thrived and vanished. Snow blanketed the winding path above, crunching softly beneath their boots, while a cold wind slid between broken rocks and dead trees, whispering like an echo from another age. Pale clouds drifted low in the sky, dimming the light and casting long, uneasy shadows across the frozen ground.

As they walked, Astrid slowed her pace slightly, her gaze drifting toward the white expanse ahead. The image of the black, shifting presence from earlier still lingered in her mind, crawling uncomfortably at the edges of her thoughts. She drew a quiet breath before speaking.

“Alex…” she said, her voice lower than usual, cautious. “What exactly was that creature earlier?”

Alex exhaled slowly, the steam from his breath curling into the frigid air. His eyes remained forward, sharp and thoughtful, as if recalling something best not remembered.

“He is a Daedric Prince Hermaeus Mora,” he replied calmly. “The Prince of Knowledge and Memory. He hungers for all knowledge, and once there is something he wants to know, he will never stop until he finds it.” He finally turned to her, his expression firm. “Be careful next time, Astrid.”

Astrid snorted, folding her arms across her chest as she kicked aside a patch of snow with her boot.

“Hah!! I won’t be afraid of him,” she said dismissively. “I’m not afraid of death. And besides, he wouldn’t gain much from me anyway.”

Alex glanced at her and let out a short laugh, a crooked smile forming on his lips.

“Haha! That’s the spirit.” He shook his head lightly before his tone grew more serious. “But understand this he doesn’t rely on brute force. He doesn’t need to.”

They continued walking as Alex spoke, his boots leaving steady tracks behind them.

“He helps mortals when they’re desperate,” he continued. “When you’re trapped, when you’ve exhausted every option that’s when he comes. If he’s interested in the knowledge you possess, he’ll offer you a deal.”

Alex’s smile faded, replaced by a cold, knowing look.

“But making a deal with a Daedric Prince is foolish,” he said quietly. “Daedra don’t help us out of kindness. They exploit us. Once they’re satisfied once they’ve taken what they want you’ll be discarded without a second thought.”

The wind howled softly through the pass as his words settled between them, heavy as the falling snow, and Astrid’s confident stance wavered just a fraction barely noticeable, but enough to betray that his warning had struck deeper than she cared to admit.

Astrid tilted her head slightly, a crooked smirk tugging at the corner of her lips as she glanced sideways at Alex. She lifted one brow in clear mockery and let out a short, dismissive laugh.

“So what are Daedric Princes anyway?” she said, waving her hand vaguely in the air. “Do they think they’re some kind of big shots or something, huh?”

Alex slowed his steps and turned toward her, his brows knitting together in genuine confusion. He studied her face for a moment, as if trying to decide whether she was joking.

“Wait…” he said carefully. “You’re a Nord. Don’t you know about these things?” He tilted his head slightly. “Do you even know what the Aedra are?”

Astrid’s smirk faltered. She raised her hand and scratched her cheek with a finger, her gaze drifting away as she avoided his eyes. The small, awkward gesture made the answer clear enough without words.

Alex let out a long, tired sigh, his shoulders sinking just a little.

“Haah… back in the past,” he said slowly, “weren’t you ever taught about the Aedra?”

There was no immediate reply. Astrid’s posture stiffened, and her chin lowered as her eyes dropped to the snow beneath her boots. Her expression darkened, shadowed by something unspoken.

Alex noticed it. His eyes softened, and he looked at her more carefully now.

“Hmm…” he murmured. “Seems I’m not the only one with secrets.”

At that, Astrid flinched. She looked up sharply, eyes widening in panic as she shook her head a little too quickly.

“Ah! No !” she said hastily. “It’s not like that!” Her hands lifted instinctively, palms half-raised as if to defend herself. “It’s just… the same reason as yours. I don’t want you to look at me strangely. I’m sorry.”

Alex closed his eyes briefly and sighed again, this time softer. He didn’t press further. Instead, he gave a small nod, choosing to let the moment pass remembering how she had once given him the same courtesy, never forcing him to explain where he came from.

“Alright then,” he said lightly, forcing a gentle smile. “At least we have something in common, right? Hehe.”

He reached out and nudged her hand with his own just a small, playful bump meant to break the tension.

Astrid blinked, then exhaled, the tightness in her shoulders easing. A faint smile slowly returned to her face, more genuine this time.

“Yeah…” she said softly. “We do have something in common.”

As they continued walking through the snow-covered path, the soft crunch beneath their boots became the only sound between them. After a moment of silence, Alex cleared his throat, lifting one hand slightly as if preparing a lecture, then lowering it again with a small, uncertain shrug.

“Okay,” he said, glancing at Astrid from the corner of his eye. “I’ll explain though not perfectly so forgive me if I get something wrong.”

Inside his mind, his thoughts stirred.

(Before reincarnating into the world of Skyrim, I was somewhat interested in its lore. It’s incredibly vast. I watched a few YouTubers, read fandom articles… but I don’t remember everything. There’s just too much.)

He took a slow breath and spoke aloud again.

“At the very beginning,” Alex said, his voice steady but thoughtful, “before time existed before even the concept of existence itself there were two principles: Anu and Padomay.”

Astrid adjusted her pace to walk beside him, her eyes fixed on his face, listening closely.

“They were not gods,” Alex continued, shaking his head slightly. “Not beings. They were pure ideas.” He brought his hands up, palms facing one another, then slowly moved them closer. “When Anu and Padomay touched, something was born something that was neither completely static nor completely changing.”

He paused, letting the idea settle.

“The elves call this state the Gray Maybe. That’s where the first seed of reality began to grow.”

In his thoughts, Alex wondered again:

(Did the creators of Skyrim adapt the Big Bang theory into this lore? They never truly explain what Anu and Padomay are only describing them as abstract concepts.)

He shook his head lightly, as if brushing the thought away.

Astrid noticed immediately. She tilted her head, brows knitting together.

“Hey,” she said, slowing her steps. “What’s wrong?”

Alex blinked, then waved it off with a small motion of his hand.

“Ah nothing. Sorry. I’ll continue.”

He resumed walking and speaking.

“From the Gray Maybe,” Alex said, “were born the great spirits known as the et’Ada.” His tone grew firmer now, more confident. “They are the ancestors of the gods unbound by form, unfamiliar with death.”

He lifted one finger, emphasizing his next point, and briefly met Astrid’s eyes.

“Among them were those who would later become the Aedra, the Daedra, and the most controversial spirit of all Lorkhan.”

Lowering his hand, Alex stared ahead at the winding path.

“Lorkhan was the spirit of change. He saw stagnation as death.” His voice sharpened slightly. “And he proposed a mad idea.”

Alex gestured outward, spreading his arms as if presenting something vast and impossible.

“He said, ‘What if we create a world where meaning is born from limitation?’ That world would later be called Mundus.”

Astrid slowed, rubbing her chin thoughtfully as she looked at him.

“So…” she said carefully, “the world we’re living in right now is Mundus?”

Alex broke into a smile and let out a short laugh.

“Haha exactly right, my dear.”

Astrid’s cheeks warmed slightly at the nickname. She looked away for a second, then back at him, curiosity still burning.

“Then what roles do the Aedra and Daedra play?”

Alex’s smile widened just a little.

“The story isn’t finished yet.”

As he spoke, he began using both hands, shaping the air as if assembling pieces of an invisible puzzle.

“The creation of Mundus had a price,” he explained. “Power would be divided. Spirits would weaken. Death would become real.” He closed one fist. “Some of the et’Ada agreed.”

Then he opened the other hand.

“Others refused. And that’s where the distinction between Aedra and Daedra comes from.”

Astrid nodded eagerly, urging him on without words.

“Aedra,” Alex continued, “are the spirits who helped create Mundus. They sacrificed their own essence.” His voice lowered with reverence. “They don’t rule the world they became the world.”

Astrid stopped walking for a moment, eyes widening.

“Wait…” she said slowly. “Does that mean Mundus is literally made from the gods?”

Alex nodded once.

“Yes. At least, that’s what the ancients believed.”

He then raised his hand, and with a brief surge of magicka, a small flame bloomed in his palm. The fire flickered softly, casting warm light against the cold air.

“Then how do you think magic came into existence?” he asked.

Astrid shook her head, eyes fixed on the flame.

Alex stared at the fire in his palm, his expression thoughtful.

“Magic exists because some et’Ada realized that creating Mundus would weaken them. So they fled before its creation was complete escaping to Aetherius.”

He curled his fingers slightly, watching the flame dance.

“They had already contributed, though. And the holes they left behind became the sun and the stars.”

Astrid frowned.

“But that still doesn’t explain how magic exists, does it?”

Alex chuckled softly.

“Hey patience. I’m not done yet.”

Astrid crossed her arms, waiting.

“The Sun,” Alex continued, lifting his gaze skyward, “the largest hole, is Magnus. The stars are smaller holes called the Magna-Ge.” He gestured upward again. “From them, magicka flows into the world. Without Aetherius, there would be no magic, no spells no stable life at all.”

Astrid thought for a moment.

“So basically… magic comes from the sun and stars?”

Alex nodded.

“In short, yes.” Then he raised a finger. “But the moons are different.”

“The moons Masser and Secunda are the remains of Lorkhan’s body. They influence fate, not raw magicka.”

He listed examples calmly:

“Werewolves and werebeasts affected by moon phases.

Khajiit body forms determined by lunar positions at birth.

Certain rituals timed by the moons.”

He exhaled.

“If we go deeper, this will take far too long. So let’s return to Mundus.”

Astrid nodded.

“Those who helped create Mundus became the Aedra,” Alex said. “Those who refused became the Daedra. They remained whole and created their own realms Oblivion.” He looked at her seriously. “It’s not about good or evil. It’s about who paid the price.”

Astrid nodded slowly.

“Oooh… that makes sense. But then why can Daedric Princes enter Mundus?”

Alex stopped walking for a moment.

“Alright. Let me clarify.”

“Mundus is the mortal plane where time flows, death is real, and change has meaning.” He stamped his boot lightly against the ground. “Within Mundus lies Nirn the physical world at its center. The land we’re standing on right now.”

He looked directly at her.

“So Mundus is the law. Nirn is the physical reality.”

He continued, “Mundus was never perfectly sealed. It’s been leaking since birth. The Aedra became the laws of nature and lost their active will.”

He summoned a Flame Atronach, the creature forming beside them in a burst of heat.

“Daedra enter through rules. Through summoning. Through us.”

Astrid frowned.

“Then why can Daedric Princes appear so easily? Like earlier Hermaeus Mora just showed up.”

Alex narrowed his eyes, thinking.

“Maybe they can’t fully enter freely,” he said slowly. “Earlier, Mora didn’t fully manifest it was a partial projection.”

He looked at Astrid.

“He’s the Prince of Knowledge and Memory. Wherever mortals hunger for knowledge, he appears. As long as knowledge exists, so does he.”

“Daedra aren’t killed,” Alex finished quietly. “They’re banished driven back, weakened but never erased.”

He studied Astrid’s face.

“So… do you get it now?”

Astrid smiled, hiding her uncertainty.

“Of course. So Lorkhan was important after all, huh? Hehe.”

Alex sighed softly.

“Yeah. Just remember what I said. Most people don’t know any of this.”

And with that, they continued their journey forward.