I Became a Side Character in the World Of Skyrim

Eirik, Silva, and the hypnotized Eldvar had arrived at Whiterun. They did not enter right away, choosing instead to wait until nightfall. Keeping their distance from the city, they stayed far enough away to avoid drawing any suspicion.

“Ugh, your cloak is so tight. Don’t you have another one?” Eirik complained.

Silva shot him an irritated look, her tone edged with annoyance. “You’re a vampire you don’t know how lucky you are. It’s already generous enough that I lent you my cloak. Otherwise, you’d be burned by the sun… hmph!”

They then waited in a dark spot beneath the dense canopy of thick trees, where even the sunlight could not penetrate.

“Alright, we’ll wait until nightfall. Then you go with that hypnotized Stormcloak soldier and get close to the Dragonborn,” Silva said.

Eirik clicked his tongue in irritation. “Why don’t we just kill him at night? When everyone’s asleep?”

Silva’s expression darkened, her voice sharp with anger. “What a brilliant idea. Go ahead and try let’s see whether you come back alive or not.”

She let out a weary sigh before continuing, “He’s married to a mage named Alex. And you think his home would be left unguarded just like that? Heh… how foolish.”

Eirik fell silent, his anger still simmering. After a moment, he turned to Silva and asked, “Hey… do you know why this Stormcloak soldier wants to meet the Dragonborn?”

Silva replied while eating her rations, “From my intel, he intends to deliver a letter to the Dragonborn.”

Eirik frowned in confusion. “A letter?”

Silva then turned to Eldvar and ordered, “Hey, hand over the letter you received from your superior.”

The hypnotized Eldvar obeyed Silva’s command without resistance, his voice flat and lifeless, as if devoid of any will. “Very well, master.”

He then took the letter out of his bag and handed it to Silva. “Here it is, master.”

Silva accepted it and showed it to Eirik. “This is the letter.”

Eirik’s curiosity grew. “What does it say, I wonder?”

Silva replied calmly, “From my intel, Ulfric intends to recruit the Dragonborn for this civil war.”

Eirik still looked unconvinced. “Let’s make sure open it and see what’s inside.”

He reached for the letter in Silva’s hand, but she quickly slapped his hand away. “Are you an idiot? This letter is sealed with the seal of Windhelm. If you break it, our cover will be exposed much sooner.”

Eirik hissed, “No need to get so angry, you know.”

Inside his mind, however, darker thoughts churned. (If my lord hadn’t ordered me to obey this High Elf, I would have drained her blood and feasted on her flesh.)

Silva looked down at him with clear disdain. “For a supposedly powerful vampire, you’re quite foolish. I admire your master’s patience in dealing with you.”

Eirik’s anger flared instantly. “You !!”

But he stopped himself. Remembering Lord Harkon’s command to obey the High Elf for now, he forced his rage back down, burying it deep within.

As the day began to fade and the sun slowly dipped toward the horizon, Silva stood up and spoke to Eirik. “Hey, I’m going to check the situation in Whiterun. I’ll come back afterward and don’t do anything until I return, understood?”

Still seething, Eirik remained silent. Silva frowned, then kicked him where he sat. “Hey did you understand?”

Eirik grunted in annoyance. “Ugh… yeah, yeah, I get it.”

Silva looked at him with clear disgust. “Tch… what a filthy beast.”

Hearing that, Eirik’s anger surged once more, but he forced himself to suppress it, keeping his fury buried deep inside.

She then made her way toward Whiterun. As she drew closer, something unusual caught her eye a massive boulder, seemingly floating in midair. It was enormous; she could see it clearly even from a distance.

“What is that? Is Whiterun under construction or something?” she muttered.

Curious, she approached. A large crowd of townsfolk had gathered around the area, blocking her view of the center. From where she stood, she could only make out the huge stone rising and falling, but not what was causing it.

The people were buzzing with excitement, their voices filled with awe.

“Wow, that’s incredible strength!”

“Can all mages do something like that?”

They continued to marvel at whatever was happening in the middle.

Silva’s curiosity grew. She turned to one of the onlookers and asked, “Hey, what’s going on over there? Why is everyone gathered here?”

The man glanced at her and upon realizing she was a High Elf, his expression turned sour. “Tch… an elf? Don’t talk to me.”

Silva’s eyes narrowed in anger, but she held herself back. She couldn’t just strike a Nord in the crowd.

“Tch… bastard.”

She tried asking others, but most of them refused to answer. Eventually, someone spoke up.

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“Ah… in the center…” the man began, his eyes still fixed ahead, filled with admiration. “There’s a man training his spell. He’s lifting that massive boulder using telekinesis… and he hasn’t even exhausted his mana.”

Silva froze.

Her brows drew together slightly, as if she hadn’t heard him correctly. “What… did you say?” Her voice came out quieter than intended, edged with disbelief.

The man didn’t even look at her this time, too captivated by the sight before him. “I’ve been watching for a while now. He hasn’t slowed down at all. No signs of fatigue… no instability in the spell. It’s like ” he let out a small, breathless laugh, “ it’s like he could keep going forever.”

Silva’s pupils trembled. Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out. (Impossible…Even a master-level mage would show signs of mana depletion… especially with something of that scale…) Silva was taken aback. The idea that someone that powerful still existed in this world shocked her. “Are you sure?” she asked.

The man nodded.

Determined, Silva tried to push her way through the crowd, but it was too dense to break through. After struggling for a while, she grew tired.

“Huff… huff… I should rest and wait for the crowd to thin out.”

So she waited. After some time, the crowd gradually began to disperse, leaving only a few people behind.

Silva stepped closer and finally caught a clear view of the person at the center it was a Nord man, training on his own.

She turned to one of the few people still lingering nearby. “Hey, who is he? Do you know him?”

The man nodded. “Ah, his name is Alex. He’s the Dragonborn’s husband.”

Silva’s eyes widened in surprise. So this was Alex.

The man chuckled in admiration. “Impressive, isn’t it? It’s no wonder he married the Dragonborn. With power like that, he’s a fitting partner.”

Silva stared at Alex intently, her gaze sharp. (I thought Alex was just an ordinary high-level mage… but he’s far beyond what we expected.)

Alex then lowered the massive boulder, lay back on the ground, and let out a long breath.

Silva was still in shock, her thoughts racing. (Should I kill him now? But… would I even survive?)

Her hand moved to the hilt of her dagger as she prepared to strike. But just as she was about to act, Alex finished resting. He rose again and lifted the massive boulder once more this time moving it far faster than before.

The massive stone tore through the air with terrifying speed, cutting across the space like a force of nature unleashed. The sound alone a deep, violent rush made the surrounding air tremble, as if the very wind had been split apart.

It came dangerously close to the few remaining onlookers.

And one of those it nearly struck… was Silva.

For a fleeting instant, everything seemed to slow.

Silva’s eyes widened as the colossal boulder passed right in front of her, so close she could see the cracks along its surface. A violent gust of wind followed in its wake, slamming into her body and whipping her hair wildly across her face. Her cloak snapped loudly behind her, and the sheer force of it nearly knocked the breath out of her lungs.

Her face drained of all color.

Her body went completely rigid, as if frozen in place.

(What…?)

Her pupils trembled.

(Did he… notice me?)

Her fingers twitched slightly at her side, instinctively tightening around the hilt of her dagger but she couldn’t bring herself to move.

(Was that… a warning? Did he just… spare me?)

A cold shiver ran down her spine.

She swallowed hard, her throat dry, the sound painfully audible in the suffocating silence that seemed to press in around her.

(We’re finished…)

Her breathing grew shallow.

(Can we even fight someone like that…? No… no, this isn’t something we can overcome.)

Her thoughts spiraled, panic creeping into every corner of her mind.

(If the Thalmor were to face a man like him… and if Ulfric actually succeeds in recruiting him…)

Her vision wavered.

(Then it won’t just be the Empire that falls…)

A tremor ran through her legs.

(Even the Thalmor… would be destroyed.)

Her knees buckled.

Her strength gave out all at once, and she collapsed onto the ground, her hands barely catching her as she fell. Her fingers dug into the dirt, trembling uncontrollably, as if trying to anchor herself to reality.

Her lips parted, but her voice came out broken, barely above a whisper.

“I… I have to… go… back…”

Alex had no idea that Silva had intended to kill him. In fact, he didn’t even notice her presence at all, simply assuming she was just another onlooker. His entire focus remained on his training.

But from Silva’s perspective, it was completely different. She believed that Alex had already noticed her and that his actions were a warning.

It was nothing more than a misunderstanding of Alex’s intentions.

Silva staggered to her feet, her movements unsteady, almost clumsy so unlike her usual composed, graceful self. Without looking back, she turned and walked away, her pace quickening with each step until she was on the verge of running. Her breath came in short, uneven bursts, and her vision blurred as tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill at any moment.

She clenched her jaw, biting down hard as if trying to suppress both the tears and the storm raging inside her chest.

She was a High Elf someone who had always been admired, respected… even feared. A woman of noble standing, connected to Elenwen herself. Since childhood, her path had been paved with praise and recognition. A prodigy in magic, unmatched in her mastery of the sword, the bow, and the dagger there had never been a moment where she doubted her superiority.

Her steps faltered for a split second.

All her life, she had stood above others.

Untouchable.

Unchallenged.

Her fingers curled tightly into her palms, nails biting into her skin.

That was precisely why she had been entrusted with such an important mission to recruit the Dragonborn… or eliminate her if necessary. And Silva, with her pride and confidence, had already decided which path she would take.

Kill her.

That had been her conclusion.

Her lips trembled faintly.

“…How… ridiculous…”

Her voice was barely a whisper, laced with disbelief.

Because now after witnessing that overwhelming power she realized just how wrong she had been.

Not just mistaken.

But utterly, completely wrong.

She hadn’t known that the Dragonborn’s partner, Alex, was this powerful. According to the reports, he was only an ordinary high-level mage. She had underestimated him.

Silva had never truly known fear.

Not once.

All her life, she had walked with her head held high, her steps measured, her gaze filled with quiet superiority. To her, strength was something that could be understood, measured even controlled. It came from status, from noble lineage, from the prestige of one’s family… and from the discipline to hone one’s own power.

Those were the rules of the world she believed in.

Her fingers tightened slightly at her sides as she moved, her breathing still uneven.

But Alex…

He was something else entirely. Not refined. Not bound by hierarchy. Not something that could be neatly placed within the structure she had always relied on.

No…his strength was raw, overwhelming… absolute. The kind of power that didn’t ask for recognition. The kind that simply was. A faint tremor ran through her shoulders.

Her lips parted slightly, as if to steady her breathing, but no words came out. Even now, the image of that massive stone cutting through the air replayed in her mind again and again too fast to follow, too powerful to comprehend.

Her chest tightened.

In that moment… everything she had ever believed in status, bloodline, prestige felt utterly meaningless. Like fragile glass, shattered beyond repair.

Her pace quickened. Then faster.

Until her composed walk completely broke, and she ran.

Not with elegance.

Not with pride.

But with desperation.

Her cloak trailed behind her, her footsteps uneven as she pushed herself forward, as if something unseen was chasing her no, as if the very thought of that power was enough to drive her away.

She didn’t even consider returning to Eirik. Didn’t spare him a single thought. Her destination was already decided. The Thalmor headquarters.

Only there only among her own did she feel there might be even the slightest chance to make sense of what she had just witnessed… or perhaps, to escape it.

As for Eirik… His fate had already been sealed.