I Became a Side Character in the World Of Skyrim

Eirik stood with his arms crossed his foot tapping impatiently against the ground as the minutes dragged on. The fading light stretched long shadows across his face, emphasizing the irritation etched into his expression. He let out a long exaggerated sigh and tilting his head back in annoyance.

“Ugh… what’s taking her so long? What is she even doing?” he muttered, his voice laced with boredom and growing frustration

He ran a hand through his hair then exhaled sharply before his gaze slowly drifted to the side settling on Eldvar who stood motionless like a lifeless puppet, his eyes dull and unfocused under the effects of hypnosis.

Eirik’s expression shifted, the annoyance fading into a sly, intrigued smirk. He circled slightly studying Eldvar as if inspecting a curious specimen his sharp eyes narrowing with interest.

“Hmm…” he hummed thoughtfully, resting his chin against his knuckles. “For a mortal, she’s actually quite skilled at using hypnosis magic.”

He crouched slightly leaning closer to Eldvar’s face, waving a hand in front of his eyes yet receiving no response. That only made his smirk widen.

“For a vampire to pull something like this off, they’d have to be high-level… not some low-blood fledgling,” he continued, his tone carrying a hint of amusement.

Eirik straightened up again brushing imaginary dust off his sleeve, his lips curling into a mocking grin.

“But still… vampires are naturally superior to her kind,” he said, his voice dropping into a quiet, confident murmur. “She needs hours to achieve something like this… while for us…”

He lifted a finger as if making a point, his crimson eyes glinting faintly in the dim light.

“…it only takes a few minutes…” he paused, his grin stretching wider, almost predatory.

“Or maybe even just a few seconds.”

A soft, eerie chuckle slipped from his lips. “Heh… haha…”

Eirik remained where he was, the seconds stretching into minutes, and the minutes into something far longer than his patience could tolerate. The sky above had begun to shift golden light fading into a dull orange, the sun slowly sinking toward the horizon. Long shadows crept across the ground, swallowing the warmth of the day and replacing it with an encroaching chill.

He clicked his tongue in irritation, pacing back and forth like a caged predator. His boots crunched against the dirt with each sharp step, his cloak swaying behind him as his movements grew more restless. Every so often, he would glance toward the distance, expecting Silva to appear but she never did.

His jaw tightened.

“Ugh… what’s taking so long?!!!” he snapped, his voice cutting through the quiet evening air. A few nearby birds took flight at the sudden outburst, their wings beating rapidly as they disappeared into the dimming sky.

Eirik dragged a hand down his face, exhaling sharply through his nose. His crimson eyes flickered with growing frustration, and for a moment, he simply stood there, shoulders tense, fingers curling slightly as if restraining himself from lashing out.

Then a subtle shift crossed his expression, irritation giving way to something sharper… something more calculating.

“Wait…” he murmured, his voice lowering as his brows slowly furrowed. His pacing stopped entirely. “…why am I even following her orders?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. His eyes narrowed as realization began to settle in, like a slow-burning flame igniting behind his gaze.

“That’s right…” he said quietly, almost to himself.

His posture straightened, tension rolling off him as his confidence returned. One hand moved to his chest, fingers pressing lightly against it as if reaffirming his own loyalty.

“My master isn’t her.”

His lips curled into a faint, almost disdainful smile. “It’s Lord Harkon.”

The name carried weight respect, authority… and a trace of reverence. Eirik lowered his head slightly for a brief moment, as if acknowledging that distant, commanding presence.

“And Lord Harkon commanded me…” he continued, his voice steady now, filled with purpose, “…to obtain the Dragonborn’s blood.”

A cold wind swept through the area, rustling his cloak and the nearby grass, as if the world itself reacted to the intent behind his words.

“That’s why…” he added, lifting his gaze again, eyes gleaming faintly in the fading light, “…he had me cooperate with the Thalmor.”

There was a brief pause then Eirik let out a quiet, low chuckle one that carried both mockery and dark amusement.

He rose to his feet, preparing to leave. But then he stopped, frowning. “Ah… I don’t even know where the Dragonborn lives.”

Then he looked at the hypnotized Eldvar and gave an order. “Hey, you tell me where the Dragonborn lives.”

Eldvar, still under the trance, replied flatly, “He is in Whiterun.”

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Eirik scratched his head in annoyance. “Yes, I know that but where exactly is his house?”

Eldvar answered in the same dull tone, “Sorry… I don’t know.”

Eirik let out a sigh. “Fine. We can ask the guards later.”

Eirik lifted his cloak with a swift, practiced motion, pulling the hood low over his head until it cast a deep shadow across his face. The last traces of sunlight still lingered along the horizon, and even that faint glow made his skin prickle with discomfort. He clicked his tongue softly, adjusting the fabric to ensure not a single ray could touch him. His pale fingers lingered at the edge of the hood for a moment, tightening it just enough to feel secure.

Only then did he turn, giving a slight tilt of his head an unspoken command.

Eldvar, still trapped in his hypnotized state, responded immediately. His posture was stiff, his movements unnatural, as though invisible strings guided his every step. Without a word, he followed behind Eirik.

The two of them began walking toward Whiterun, their pace steady. The distant city loomed ahead, its walls faintly illuminated by the dying light of dusk. The wind carried the scent of dry grass and earth, brushing softly against their cloaks as silence stretched between them.

After a few moments, Eirik’s eyes shifted sideways, landing on Eldvar. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, amused by the man’s vacant expression.

He slowed his steps slightly, then spoke in a casual yet commanding tone, “Hey, you. Give me information about the Dragonborn’s place of residence.”

Eldvar didn’t hesitate. His gaze remained empty, fixed forward as he answered in a flat, emotionless voice, “He is in Whiterun.”

Eirik’s expression immediately soured. His brows furrowed, and he let out an annoyed breath. Lifting a hand, he scratched the side of his head roughly, fingers dragging through his hair.

“Yeah, I know that,” he muttered impatiently, his tone edged with irritation. “I mean his actual house.”

There was a brief pause as Eldvar processed the command or perhaps simply reached the limit of what he knew.

“Sorry, I do not know,” he replied in the same dull tone.

Eirik stopped walking.

For a moment, he just stood there, staring ahead before letting out a long, exaggerated sigh. His shoulders slumped slightly, and he dragged a hand down his face in clear frustration.

“…Tch. Useless,” he muttered under his breath.

He glanced around briefly, as if expecting the answer to magically appear in the empty fields around them, before shaking his head.

“Fine,” he said at last, waving his hand dismissively. “We’ll just ask someone nearby later.”

Adjusting his cloak once more Eirik pulled it tighter around his body, ensuring every inch of exposed skin was covered as the last remnants of sunlight faded. The growing darkness seemed to suit him far better his posture relaxing as the threat of the sun diminished.

Without another word, he stepped forward again.

Eldvar followed.

Together, they continued their approach toward Whiterun, their figures gradually blending into the deepening dusk.

Upon arriving at the gates of Whiterun, there were many people coming and going. Eirik didn’t know what was happening, but it gave him the perfect opportunity to slip inside unnoticed.

Eirik and Eldvar managed to enter Whiterun without being questioned by the guards. Eirik glanced around, scanning the surroundings. “Alright… where is the Dragonborn’s house?”

He then looked for a small child and told Eldvar to ask them. In the end, they managed to get the information and headed toward the Dragonborn’s house.

A short while later, Eirik stood in front of the Dragonborn’s door. But at that very moment, Eldvar suddenly snapped out of his hypnosis. “What the ?”

Eirik panicked slightly when he realized Eldvar had regained his senses. He raised his hand and aimed it at Eldvar’s back, right where his heart was. “Don’t move. If you so much as scream or call for help, I’ll put a hole through your heart,” Eirik whispered.

Eldvar swallowed hard, a cold sweat running down his body as he tried to recall his last memories. “Why are you doing this? What’s your goal?” he asked.

Eirik let out a soft, eerie chuckle. “Kihihihi… I just want to kill the Dragonborn. That’s all nothing more, nothing less.”

Inside his mind, Eirik cursed, Damn it… he’s already broken free from the hypnosis. What happened to Silva? Is she dead? Ugh… that useless elf.

Eldvar burst into laughter. “Hahaha… you want to kill the Dragonborn? You’re just an ordinary vampire, and he’s already slain dragons. What kind of weapon do you even have, huh?”

Eirik grew irritated. “Shut up!!! Do you think I’m stupid enough to fight him one-on-one? Of course not. I’ll kill her when she lets his guard down with talking with you”

A sinister smile spread across Eirik’s face. “If you want to live, then hurry up and knock on the door in front of you.”

Eldvar’s body felt stiff, every step heavy with tension as he stood before the door. He didn’t fully understand what was happening his thoughts were still hazy from the remnants of hypnosis but one thing was painfully clear.

Behind him… right at the center of his back… Eirik’s hand hovered, precisely aligned with his heart.

He could feel it.

The threat didn’t need to be repeated. If he made the wrong move even the slightest mistake he would die instantly.

A bead of cold sweat slid down Eldvar’s temple. His fingers twitched faintly at his sides before he slowly raised one hand toward the door. His breathing was shallow, controlled, as if even the sound of it might provoke the monster behind him.

Step by step, he moved closer.

Eirik stood just behind him, eyes sharp beneath the shadow of his hood, watching every movement like a predator ready to strike. His posture was relaxed but his fingers were slightly curled, prepared to unleash a killing blow in an instant.

Eldvar reached the door.

His hand lifted… hovering just inches away from the wood.

Then

“Who are you?”

The sudden voice cut through the tension like a blade.

Eirik’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. His head snapped to the side, cloak shifting as he turned toward the source of the voice. He hadn’t sensed anyone approaching he had been too focused on controlling Eldvar.

Standing there was a man Alex.

Eirik didn’t recognize his face, but the sudden appearance alone was enough to throw him off balance for a split second. And that single moment… Was all Eldvar needed.

His expression twisted, fear instantly replaced by desperate resolve. With a sharp inhale, he pivoted on his heel his body moving faster than it had since the hypnosis began to fade.

Now!

He spun around and drove his foot forward with all the strength he had

Thud!

His kick slammed into Eirik, forcing him back. “Watch out!!!” Eldvar shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice cracking with urgency. “He’s a vampire!”

Eirik staggered slightly, caught completely off guard. His balance faltered, irritation flashing across his face as his plan unraveled in an instant.

But before either of them could react further

Alex moved.

His eyes sharpened, and in that same instant, an invisible force surged outward.

The air itself seemed to tighten.

Eldvar and Eirik both froze mid-motion their bodies suddenly locked in place as if bound by unseen chains. Their limbs refused to obey, suspended by an overwhelming pressure that held them where they stood.

Telekinesis.

Eirik’s expression shifted from irritation to shock, his muscles straining uselessly against the invisible grip. Eldvar, too, struggled slightly, confusion flickering across his face as he realized he could no longer move.

Alex stepped forward slowly, his gaze cold and piercing. There was no hesitation in his movements only controlled anger.

He stopped a few steps away from them, his presence heavy, suffocating.

“So…” he began, his voice low and dangerous, each word deliberate.

“…who exactly are you two?”

His eyes narrowed, a faint tension in his jaw betraying the anger beneath his calm exterior.

“Huh?”