I Became a Side Character in the World Of Skyrim

Alex was sound asleep when something brushed softly against his cheek.

The touch was gentle, almost affectionate and faintly damp. His brow twitched, but he didn’t wake. Still half-lost in sleep, his lips curved into a lazy, contented smile as he mumbled without opening his eyes.

“Hehe… Astrid… five more minutes… I’ll get up soon, hehe…”

The sensation returned, tracing along his cheek again, slower this time.

Alex shifted under it, turning his face slightly away, his hand lazily swatting at the air as if to brush Astrid off.

“Astrid… just a little longer, okay…”

His voice was thick with sleep, words slurring together. His consciousness drifted, warm and heavy until the feeling changed.

The softness was gone.

What replaced it was sticky.

Alex’s brow furrowed. His smile faded. A faint chill crept up his spine.

“Astrid… what are you do ”

His words cut off mid-sentence.

Alex’s eyelids fluttered open, slow and reluctant

 and his blood froze.

Pressed against his cheek was not a hand.

It was a black tentacle, slick and pulsing faintly, its surface glistening as if coated in cold mucus. Tiny ripples ran through it, almost alive, almost curious.

For half a heartbeat, his mind refused to accept what he was seeing.

Then panic exploded.

“Uwaaaah!!!”

Alex jerked upright violently, his body reacting before his thoughts could catch up. His heart slammed against his ribs as he scrambled backward, nearly losing his balance as his hands slapped against the unseen ground beneath him.

“What what happened?! Where am I?!”

His breath came fast and shallow. His chest heaved as his eyes darted wildly from side to side, muscles tense, every nerve screaming danger.

The surroundings slowly came into focus.

Endless darkness stretched in every direction, thick and oppressive. The air felt heavy, as if soaked with knowledge that did not belong to mortals. Strange whispers brushed against his ears too distant to understand, yet close enough to feel.

Alex’s hands clenched into fists.

This place…

He knew it.

A cold realization settled in his stomach.

“This is…”

The same twisted dreamscape as before.

The realm where he had once stood face to face with that thing.

His gaze snapped forward.

Hovering in the void was a massive black mass, its shape constantly shifting, never truly still. Countless goat-like eyes opened and closed across its surface, each one locking onto Alex with unsettling awareness. Thick tentacles writhed lazily around its form, some brushing against nothing, others curling as if in anticipation.

Every instinct in Alex’s body screamed the same name.

There was no mistaking it.

Hermaeus Mora.

The moment Alex fully recognized the being before him, his entire body reacted.

His shoulders snapped tight, muscles coiling as if pulled by invisible strings. His breath hitched, then steadied into a controlled rhythm as instinct took over. One foot slid half a step back, his knees bending slightly subtle, but deliberate. His hands clenched, fingers twitching as if ready to seize invisible weapons.

Every fiber of his being screamed danger.

His gaze locked onto the writhing mass of eyes and tentacles, never leaving it for even a heartbeat.

“Are you here for revenge?” he demanded, his voice low and sharp, the tension in his jaw unmistakable.

Without lowering his guard, Alex flicked his attention inward.

A translucent system window flashed into existence before his eyes. His pupils darted across the familiar interface, searching for abnormalities, missing functions anything out of place.

(What’s going on? Is the system malfunctioning? Why is this happening again?)

Before he could find an answer, Mora’s voice seeped into the void calm, smooth, disturbingly composed.

“Relax.”

The tentacles around Mora slowed, their movements unhurried, almost deliberate.

“Your power likely only activates when you are truly in danger. I have already put the past behind me. I am not here for revenge.”

Alex’s brows drew together. His stance didn’t loosen, but uncertainty crept into his expression. His head tilted slightly, eyes narrowing as he searched Mora’s countless gazes for deceit.

“What do you mean?” he asked, suspicion thick in his tone. “I already told you I refuse to become your slave.”

For a brief moment, Mora’s writhing mass seemed to… settle.

When he spoke again, his voice was different softer, measured, almost courteous.

“I have changed my mind.”

A tentacle curled inward, as though restraining itself.

“Instead of making you my servant, how about we become equals? We cooperate not as master and slave, but as partners.”

Alex’s fingers tightened involuntarily.

Mora paused, letting the words sink in, then continued in a tone that cut disturbingly close to Alex’s thoughts.

“I know you are currently troubled by the fact that you cannot use your telekinesis freely.”

Alex’s eyes widened.

His breath caught for just a fraction of a second barely noticeable, yet impossible to hide.

He knows.

The faint pressure behind his temples, the subtle headache that returned whenever he pushed his power too far it all flashed through his mind. The negative effects were there again, restrained but persistent, like a warning that refused to fade.

Mora went on, his voice carrying the weight of revelation.

“To be honest, my power was not taken by you. It was borrowed. You copied it and afterward, my power returned to me.”

Alex froze.

The words hit him like a shockwave.

His pupils shrank as his mind raced, connecting fragments of memories, sensations, and system responses that had never fully made sense before. His lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

This was information he had never considered.

Information that could change everything.

Yet even as the realization settled in, doubt lingered like a thorn in his chest. His eyes narrowed once more, caution returning just as quickly as surprise.

Is this the truth… or just another manipulation?

Alex didn’t lower his guard not even an inch.

Mora noticed it immediately.

The slightest hesitation flickering across Alex’s face the brief tightening around his eyes, the way his shoulders tensed just a fraction too late. To Mora, that moment of doubt was as loud as a scream.

“I know you doubt what I’m saying,” Mora said, his voice smooth and certain, flowing directly into Alex’s mind rather than through the air.

“But it is the truth.”

Alex let out a slow breath through his nose. His shoulders rose and fell once as if releasing tension, and he shook his head faintly, more tired than convinced.

“Maybe,” he replied, his voice steady but firm. “But I’ll learn the true nature of my power after I defeat Alduin. I don’t need you, Mora.”

His gaze hardened, resolve sharpening behind his eyes.

“And this temporary problem,” he added, clenching his fist at his side, “I’ll find a solution eventually.”

For the first time since appearing, Mora’s presence seemed to waver.

The writhing tentacles slowed, some drawing inward, others hanging limply in the void. When he spoke again, his tone had changed lower, heavier.

Disappointed.

Almost… sad.

“Listen to me,” Mora said quietly.

“Just for a moment.”

Alex blinked.

The words caught him off guard.

This was not the commanding, condescending Daedric Prince he remembered the being who once spoke of him as nothing more than a disposable pawn.

This voice sounded disturbingly close to pleading.

Mora continued, his voice regaining shape.

“When you borrowed and copied my power,” he said, “something about you became far more fascinating than your strength alone.”

As he spoke, a ripple passed through his form. The countless eyes focused more sharply, narrowing in unison, as if examining Alex from within.

Then Mora’s tone shifted again.

Curiosity twisted into something darker.

Something hungry.

“What if,” he whispered, “there were two identical Daedric beings in this world?”

A low, echoing laugh spilled from him.

“Hahahaha…”

His tentacles writhed eagerly, coiling and uncoiling in erratic patterns, some striking the void as though testing its resistance. The excitement in his movements was unmistakable a scholar intoxicated by the prospect of forbidden discovery.

Alex’s instincts flared.

His spine stiffened, and his gaze sharpened, every alarm in his mind blaring at once. He took a small step back, putting distance between himself and the writhing mass.

“You’re right,” Alex said coldly. “I shouldn’t have trusted you in the first place.”

The laughter stopped.

Instantly.

Mora’s tentacles stilled, freezing mid-motion. The countless eyes locked onto Alex at once, their collective focus pressing down on him like an invisible weight.

“Fool,” Mora said, his voice cutting, stripped of amusement.

“Can’t you see it?”

A single tentacle extended slowly toward Alex, stopping just short of touching him.

“You could become a Daedric entity yourself walking freely upon Nirn.”

His voice dropped into a dangerous whisper.

“Doesn’t that tempt you… hmm?”

For Alex, a quiet, ordinary life with Astrid was already more than enough.

That simple future shared meals, unspoken smiles, waking up beside someone he loved was the anchor that kept him human. His jaw tightened as the image surfaced in his mind, steadying him against the crushing presence before him.

Mora felt it.

The hesitation.

The attachment.

“Ahhh…” Mora murmured, his voice thick with knowing amusement.

“You’re still bound by that mortal Dragonborn, aren’t you?”

Before Alex could react, a tentacle drifted forward and settled lightly on his shoulder.

The touch was gentle almost tender but unnaturally cold. Alex’s muscles locked instantly, every instinct urging him to recoil, yet he forced himself to remain still. His fingers twitched, nails digging into his palm.

“But what if that mortal were in danger,” Mora continued smoothly,

“and you lacked the power to protect her?”

The words sank deep.

Mora’s voice softened, turning coaxing, persuasive each syllable carefully placed.

“I hear you’ve already been marked by the Thalmor, haven’t you?” he said.

“What if, one night, while you sleep peacefully…”

The tentacle on Alex’s shoulder tightened ever so slightly.

“…Astrid is killed right beside you and you can do nothing?”

Alex’s breath caught.

His chest constricted as the image slammed into his mind too vivid, too cruel. His eyes widened, pupils trembling, and for a split second his stance faltered. His teeth clenched hard enough to ache.

Mora moved closer.

The oppressive presence pressed in as his voice slid nearer, a whisper curling against Alex’s ear like poison.

“You could prevent that,” Mora whispered.

“If you were immortal. If you possessed power equal to a Daedric Prince.”

The countless eyes gleamed.

“Crushing the Thalmor would be as easy as snapping your fingers, wouldn’t it?”

Alex hesitated.

His heartbeat thundered in his ears, drowning out the void around him. His thoughts spiraled, colliding with one another in frantic loops.

(Could what Mora says really come true? He’s a being that shouldn’t be trusted…)

(But if I had that kind of power…)

(I wouldn’t lose anyone ever again, right?)

Mora felt the shift.

The crack in Alex’s resolve.

Slowly deliberately he extended a tentacle toward him, stopping just inches away, waiting.

“So…” Mora said softly.

“What do you say?”

The void seemed to hold its breath.

“Will you become my disciple?”

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