Since we have both Mercer and the Skeleton Key already, there’s really no point in going to the Nightingale Headquarters first. We’ve effectively skipped all of that, and instead it’s time to make for the Twilight Sepulcher and meet with Nocturnal… personally.
 
I would be irritated by the Sepulcher’s location, if I hadn’t used the Skeleton Key to unlock my potential. Rather than being located near Riften, the Sepulcher was on the far side of the continent, near Falkreath, one of the few holds that Svanna, and I hadn’t been yet. But that didn’t matter… not with the Console at my fingertips. Recall and Mark had been rendered obsolete. Transporting myself, my Dragonborn, Karliah, and Mercer was the work of half a moment.
 
As we arrive outside of the Twilight Sepulcher, I notice two things immediately. One, Karliah trembles, looking like she’s ready to faint. The Dunmer Thief is terrified of Nocturnal, which… fair enough. Two, she really does have good reason to be. I can FEEL Nocturnal’s presence in front of me. The Twilight Sepulcher is her Domain, inside and out. It’s the closest I think I’ve been to a place steeped in a Daedric Prince’s power… certainly, it’s the first time I’ve been so close since I transcended beyond all normal barriers and hit the level cap.
 
Still, it’s odd. It’s not just Nocturnal’s power I feel, but her PRESENCE. Almost as if she’s already manifested inside of the Sepulcher. But that shouldn’t be possible, given that the Skeleton Key’s entire purpose is to open a portal to Evergloam, a portal so powerful it gets its own name… Ebonmere. That was actually the TRUE reason behind the Thieves Guild’s misfortune. While Ebonmere was open, it graced every thief on Nirn with a small fraction of Nocturnal’s luck.
 
When Mercer stole the Skeleton Key, he cut off the portal’s connection and made things much, much worse for everyone around him. Selfish to say the least, and yet… heh, he was a thief. What did anyone expect? Honestly…
 
For me to be feeling Nocturnal’s actual presence when I still held the Skeleton Key in my hand and Ebonmere remained closed… it didn’t make sense. Unless the theory that I’ve been developing ever since I expanded my mind beyond mortal comprehension is correct. In which case, it actually makes quite a lot of sense.
 
Either way, I can tell just from standing at the entrance to the Twilight Sepulcher that any mortal without the proper preparations and protections would be putting themselves into Nocturnal’s grasp by stepping foot into this place. I wasn’t sure how that would go for someone like Svanna, who was the Last Dragonborn. I had a theory that the reason you could be the Champion of every single Daedric Prince in the game with zero consequences was because they couldn’t actually lay claim to the Last Dragonborn’s soul and were just going for a cut of the pie so to speak, but it wasn’t like I was about to test that theory any time soon.
 
Not when I could handle it on my own terms just as easily. As we step through the door and into the Twilight Sepulcher proper, I push my own presence outwards, manipulating my own burgeoning power in a mimicry of what I can tell Nocturnal is doing. The result is a knife slicing through the dark, shadowy power of the Sepulcher, creating a bulwark that contains me, my Dragonborn, and our two ride-a-longs for the time being.
 
Together, the four of us descend into the Sepulcher, untouchable and… surprisingly unmolested. I remembered the quest involving this place in the game being a bit tedious. I remembered Gallus’ ghost showing up at the entrance to offer the Dragonborn Player some advice. That doesn’t happen, however. Gallus doesn’t show… and the trials aren’t active.
 
We make our way deeper into the Twilight Sepulcher without seeing hide or hair of anything or anyone. If I didn’t feel Nocturnal’s power all around us, if I didn’t KNOW she was focused on this spot, I would think that her temple was abandoned, that this domain was defunct. But no… no, she was here. This place still held purpose. And yet, she did not try to challenge any of us. The trials that the player in the game had to surpass never showed up.
 
… There’s not even a pit to fall into. I distinctly remember the ground disappearing at one point and the player falling to the room with the Ebonmere Lock inside of it. Instead, we just walk through a door and we’re there, the Lock and Portal both in front of us, both unpowered, of course. There’s an anticipation in the air, and I smile as I step forward… and then stop, having no intention of powering on the portal. Not before I get my answers.
 
“Lady Nocturnal. I have come to bargain.”
 
I can’t help it, it’s a good line. And besides, we’re currently doing the Thieves Guild Questline. Is there truly any better time to be stealing movie lines from other franchises?
 
Regardless, there’s a shiver in the power filling the Sepulcher, and then a glowing light fills the room, much like what I remember from the game, when you communed with Nocturnal in the Nightingale Hideout. I cock an eyebrow, as the Daedric Prince’s presence focuses on Svanna first.
 
“Dragonborn.”
 
And then me.
 
“Lord Vayral. Tis a pleasure to be first among my brothers and sisters to welcome you. Your ascent has been foreseen… but the speed of your rise is something not even I could have guessed at.”
 
She pays no mind to Karliah or Mercer, and so neither do I, instead focusing intently on the almost… deferential tone she’s taking with me.
 
“Oh? I’m surprised by that. After all, I wouldn’t have gotten to this point without your Key.”
 
The presence flickers, and I keep my smile amicable, as if I don’t notice.
 
“… Yes. But I can only do so much, especially when the Ebonmere remains closed. Please, my Lord… return the Key to its Lock, and I shall be of great assistance as you subjugate my brethren and the divines.”
 
That gets both of my eyebrows raised, my eyes widening slightly. Nocturnal was… rolling over and showing me her belly? Seriously? No, that didn’t sit right with me. The Night Mistress’ sphere was night and darkness. She was duplicitous by her very nature, the embodiment of the unfathomable and enigmatic. At least, where mortals were concerned. I was not mortal… perhaps I never had been.
 
“In a moment, perhaps. Before that, I have some questions.”
 
Another flicker of her presence, an irritation welling up deep within her that makes me surer than ever before that she doesn’t fully understand just how broad my perception is. She doesn’t see how much I can see. Good… that’s very good.
 
“… Of course, Lord Vayral. I am at your service. Ask away.”
 
Well, here it is. I center myself, needlessly breathe in and out when I’m not even sure I ever needed to breathe in the first place, and then ask the question that I’ve had on the tip of my tongue since I woke up. It wasn’t what I’d initially intended to ask, back when Svanna and I had first figured out we were both placed here for some reason and decided we needed to consult with a higher power like Nocturnal… but then, I had a feeling this conversation wasn’t going the way it would have gone back then either.
 
Back then, Nocturnal would have had the upper hand. Now, I suspected Lady Luck knew she did not have the upper hand. More than that, I had a greater understanding of this world. Concepts I barely remembered from both sets of my memories had come to the forefront. Things I’d read about as an Altmer, as a Thalmor Agent in Training, and things I’d heard of once or twice on forums back as a human on Earth.
 
I now knew all there was to know about these things. And because of that, I had come to suspect I knew the truth of not just Svanna and I’s existence, but this whole world’s existence.
 
“… We’re in a Dragon Break, aren’t we?”
 
Nocturnal’s reaction is interesting. There is another flickering in her presence within the Sepulcher’s Inner Sanctum that is at odds with the deference of her response.
 
“Indeed, we are, my Lord. You truly are wise and all-knowing, to be able to see through Akatosh’s un-time.”
 
Right. Dragon Breaks were sometimes called ‘un-time’. Honestly though, if I’d been more of an Elder Scrolls lore-buff, I probably would have realized it sooner. I just wasn’t so much of an Elder Scrolls fanatic as some people. I really only had a few hundred hours played in Skyrim over the span of ten years, and I’d put maybe thirty hours into Oblivion without ever touching the Main Quest. Everything else Elder Scrolls related had been beyond me.
 
But now that I was whatever the fuck I was, it was the only thing that made sense. This world… was wrong. Oh sure, most of it was perfect. Most of it was exactly as it should be. And most of it was even quite responsive, with not too many cracks to be found. Except, I suspected that was because our path had been known before, we ever even took it.
 
Wherever we’d gone, the world had expected as much and moved to accommodate us. It was only when things got messy that the glitches in the matrix, to borrow another genre, became more and more apparent. When I’d killed Ancano, the Psijic Order had never shown up, and I didn’t for one second still believe that was simply because the threat to the Eye had been removed.
 
Likewise, when Svanna had met this dimension’s version of her and gone on to kill Grelod, some glitch had reacted and caused Astrid to show up out of nowhere and spirit Svanna away, with the blonde woman stuck on the rails no matter what Svanna said to her, until I came around to take over her mind.
 
This world wasn’t real. Despite it seeming so very realistic, despite it clearly not running on game physics, this world was still not real. It was a copy… it was the product of a Dragon Break.
 
Dragon Breaks were a temporal phenomenon that involved a splitting of the natural timeline. This in turn caused branching parallel realities where a bunch of events happened differently or didn’t happen at all. At the end of a Dragon Break, the timeline reconstitutes itself and all possibilities and outcomes become real, even those contradictory to each other.
 
But in the middle of the Dragon Break, nothing is true. Everything is permitted.
 
… Heh, I cracked myself up sometimes. The point was, this was a Dragon Break… but it was more than that, I was pretty sure.
 
“This isn’t a normal Dragon Break.”
 
Nocturnal’s reaction to this is confusion. Her presence flickers again, but this time in surprise and bafflement. When she answers, she does so hesitantly.
 
“I… am not sure I understand. There is no such thing as a normal Dragon Break, Lord Vayral.”
 
I kind of like having her treat me with such respect and deference, as if I own her already. It’s nice. It’d be a lot better though, if she wasn’t fucking lying through her Daedric teeth when she did it. But alas, we’d get to that shortly.
 
“This is an artificial Dragon Break. It was made.”
 
Once again, she feels confused. But there’s also a hint of exasperation in that part of her that she thinks I can’t sense, as well as an ever so slightly condescending tone when she answers me.
 
“Most Dragon Breaks are made, my Lord. The exact cause of each of them is usually some group or entity. I confess, I know not who created this one, but perhaps together we can-!”
 
“No. You’re right, in that Dragon Breaks usually happen because someone wanted them to happen. But this? This is beyond Nirn. Beyond Mundus, beyond Oblivion, beyond Aetherius.”
 
“… What?”
 
I smile, and it’s not a nice smile. Nocturnal’s bafflement is understandable. After all, I’ve just told her that this ‘Dragon Break’, if it can even be called a Dragon Break in truth, comes from beyond her reality entirely. Which, given Dragon Breaks are actually supposed to all be caused by Akatosh, the Dragon God of Time, that shouldn’t be possible. As powerful as Akatosh is, he’s still OF Aetherius and the Immortal Plane after all. He can’t be from beyond his home.
 
And yet, I’m confident in what I’m saying. I know I’m right. This meeting with Nocturnal, my first face to face with a Daedric Prince, has confirmed it for me. This is a Dragon Break, but also not. When I call it artificial, I’m correct. Because while it was probably still done through Akatosh, it wasn’t done by anything or anyone in this existence.
 
A chuckle escapes my lips, and I shake my head. Nocturnal feels curious, as she forces more and more of her attention onto me.
 
“What? What is it? You’ve come to realize something?”
 
I feel it then. She finally pushes a little too hard. The parts of her I’ve been sensing all this time, that she thinks I can’t sense, haven’t just been feeling things she doesn’t want me to know she’s been feeling, they’ve been trying to prod at me, trying to push in. Not to harm me, for Nocturnal is no assassin. No, rather, the Night Mistress is, at her heart, just like all of her most successful followers… a Thief.
 
That is why she has so graciously welcomed me into her inner sanctum, why she has brought me through the Twilight Sepulcher without forcing me to complete a single trial. Because she sees in me something she thinks she can steal. She sees unsettled power that she feels belongs to her, because it came from the Skeleton Key.
 
I’m not surprised… nor am I angry. I’m just… disappointed.
 
Letting out a sigh, I smile and then cock my head to the side.
 
“Lady Nocturnal… why do you continue to hide yourself from us? You know you can come out at any time, don’t you?”
 
There’s a pause, even the tendrils of her power that have been trying to ‘pick my pockets’ so to speak, pausing in their futile efforts. They resume after a moment however, even as she responds.
 
“I know not what you mean, Lord Vayral. As I have already told you, I cannot give you any assistance, or help you in any meaningful way, until the Ebonmere is reopened.”
 
I smirk and shake my head.
 
“Now, now… we both know that isn’t true. You wouldn’t be lying to me, would you Lady Nocturnal? You wouldn’t be trying to… deceive me?”
 
Another pause, as I tense up. This time I know I’ve activated Nocturnal’s fight or flight response. All that’s left is to see what she chooses. In the end… it’s both. Like a dagger in the dark, she attempts to do the metaphysical equivalent of slicing through my bulwark, but it’s an obvious feint designed to put me on the defensive as she does her level best to flee from the Sepulcher altogether.
 
Except, that is another feint… one I’m a little disappointed she would ever think I would fall for. Nocturnal isn’t about to leave this place, the seat of her power. She can’t, she’d be destitute if she gave up this domain to me wholesale. No, she was clearly hoping that in my haste to chase after her, I’d leave the Sepulcher behind and her with it.
 
Ignoring the faint shadow she sends ‘running off’, I reach out and pull. Clenching my hand into a fist in the physical, I do the same with my power in the metaphysical. And with my pulling… comes all those bits of presence that Nocturnal was hiding from me. I register surprise from the Daedric Prince, as her throat materializes in my hand, and Nocturnal herself, in all of her flesh and blood glory, appears before us dressed in the same robes I remembered her in from the game, her breasts half-exposed, her body certainly attractive enough to get the blood flowing.
 
She gasps, eyes wide, as I choke her with both my physical hand and my own presence, smirking as I bring her INTO my bulwark, cutting her off from her domain and the power that saturates this place, that saturates her Sepulcher.
 
“H-How?”
 
The ephemeral quality of her voice is gone now, as I hold her aloft. I just chuckle and shake my head.
 
“Everyone knows gods walk the world right alongside mortals in the midst of Dragon Breaks. So why not Daedric Princes, as well?”
 
There’s very real fear in Nocturnal’s eyes now. Everything before was an act, designed to play to my pride and greed, designed to get me to lower my guard so she could… what, steal my power from me? If I’d given in at any point, could she have done so? Could she have drained my levels and bound me to her as a thrall?
 
In the end, it didn’t matter. I’d known better. I WAS better. She might have age and experience, but I had seen her coming a mile away. And now… now she was all mine.
 
Not just her either, but this whole world. Because I knew now what all of this was. Maybe I should have known to begin with. I smile, as I glance over at Svanna to see my Dragonborn looking at me with unadulterated lust in her eyes. She does so love seeing me holding a Daedric Prince by the throat, from the way her arousal is hitting my nostrils from several feet away.
 
I’d thought Svanna was the main character here. That I was just her tagalong. But that wasn’t right. She was special, there was no doubt about that. Brought from another world, just like me. She was the Last Dragonborn, destined to defeat Alduin… if we ever even got around to it.
 
But in the end, she wasn’t the main character. I was. Because this world was made for me… by me.
 
I could almost imagine the astronaut meme in my head. I’d be the astronaut staring down at the Earth, saying in a disbelieving tone, ‘It’s a self-insert?!’. And I’d also be the astronaut behind me, holding a gun to the back of my head and saying in a matter of fact tone, ‘Always has been’.
 
Story within story, narrative within narrative. None of this was real, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy myself. And now that I knew exactly what I was and exactly where I was… that was EXACTLY what I was going to do.

-x-X-x-

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