Ah, mortals.
Always dabbling in things they barely comprehend, but that's why I love them so. And one mortal, in particular, caught my eye—a lad named Jin Gallermo, locked in his little room, tinkering with mods for a game that I have quite the fondness for. Skyrim, you say? Oh yes, the land of dragons, Daedric Princes, and utter madness. Now, where was I? Oh, right, Jin's miserable, delightful "company travel" whatever that is…
The stale air of Jin Gallermo's hotel room clung to his skin, the scent of old coffee grounds and fast food wrappers a constant reminder of the life he was escaping. His fingers tapped at the keyboard, mechanical, rhythmic, almost robotic, as he hunched over his glowing laptop screen. "Just a few more lines of code," Jin muttered to himself, the only living creature to hear him. Outside, life bloomed—birds sang, other tourists laughed, the sun shone—but not in here. No, Jin's "company travel" was spent in the pixelated land of Skyrim, hunched in the suffocating cocoon of digital creation.
"Why go outside when I can create inside?" Jin would often say, laughing to himself. He was working on a special mod—his magnum opus. A quest where a brave knight (his avatar, naturally) would rescue a princess from a dragon's lair at the Throat of the World. The twist? The princess was Nocturnal herself, or at least a version of her, because in Jin's fantasy, Daedric Princes could be anything...even lovers.
How quaint, you say? Well, buckle in. I, Sheogorath, Daedric Prince of Madness, was watching it all unfold, and oh, the fun was just beginning.
The screen in front of Jin flickered (while the event hall was being devoured by the storm), but he didn't notice at first. He was too wrapped up in tweaking the dragon's AI. "C'mon, Alduin, don't glitch on me now," he grumbled, completely missing the fact that the lights in the room had dimmed. The air felt charged, static creeping up his skin. Then, with a surge of energy, the laptop sparked, the screen flashed a blinding white, and—POOF!.
Jin stumbled as his vision cleared. Snow crunched under his boots, the chill wind biting at his face. He blinked hard, trying to process what had happened. Gone was the sterile light of his laptop, the four walls of his hotel room. Instead, mountains towered around him, their peaks sharp and cold against a bruised sky.
"No way..." he breathed. The smell of pine and snow filled his nostrils, crisp and real. Too real. Jin looked down at his hands. Leather gloves. Nightingale gloves. He was in Skyrim—literally, physically in Skyrim.
A voice whispered on the wind. "You're finally awake."
"Oh, gods..." Jin's heart raced. He spun around to see the Throat of the World looming in the distance, and beneath him, the vast wilderness of Tamriel stretched far and wide. "This—this can't be happening!"
Oh, but it was happening, and Jin's excitement was practically palpable. He flexed his fingers, and instinctively, power surged through him. "Nightingale skills," he muttered, almost giddy. Everything he knew about the game—the mods, the mechanics—was at his fingertips. He could feel it. Like some omnipotent player with console commands, only this time, there was no screen separating him from the game.
Without hesitation, Jin made his way to Riften, pulled by an invisible force, or perhaps something far more sinister. He passed through the gate into the city's murky underworld, the stone streets damp from rain and the stink of fish in the air. He found his way to the Ragged Flagon with unsettling ease. Brynjolf was waiting for him, leaning against a post, smirking as if he had known Jin would come all along.
"Ah, our new recruit," Brynjolf said, eyes gleaming. "Word travels fast down here. Karliah's impressed."
Jin's chest puffed with pride. Impressed? Karliah impressed by me? He grinned. "Lead the way."
That night, in the depths of Nightingale Hall, Jin knelt before the Ebonmere. The shadows around him twisted and swirled as Lady Nocturnal herself emerged from the inky blackness. Her form was ethereal, dark and terrible, yet there was a beauty about her that made Jin's heart skip. Her voice was a soft caress in his mind, sending shivers through his bones.
"Ah, my new Nightingale," she whispered, her lips curling into a wicked smile. "You've been meddling in my domain, haven't you, Jin?"
Jin swallowed hard. "Meddling?" Jin thought that perhaps, Nocturnal was referring to him creating mods.
Her laughter echoed in the chamber, a haunting melody. "And now you find yourself in my world, bound to me. It seems the boundaries between our realms are thinner than you thought."
Jin felt his pulse quicken. He should've been terrified, but instead, he was intoxicated—by her presence, by her power. And when she drew closer, whispering promises of endless adventures and forbidden pleasures, how could he resist? How could any mortal resist?
Days blurred into weeks. Jin lost himself in the shadows, both metaphorically and literally. He became Nocturnal's chosen, her favorite toy, her lover. Their trysts were secret, stolen moments in the twilight of her realm. Each encounter left Jin feeling more alive, more powerful. Yet, a gnawing sense of unease began to creep in.
One night, at the usual chamber where Jin and Nocturnal always do each other, the faint shimmer of the Ebonmere casting ripples of silver light over the stone walls. Shadows danced in the cold, heavy air, wrapping around the figures within like silk. Jin stood motionless, his heart racing as Lady Nocturnal's form materialized from the inky blackness, her violet eyes gleaming like distant stars.
"Why me?" Jin asked, as they lay entwined in the depths of Evergloam.
Nocturnal's violet eyes gleamed, though her answer was nothing more than a cryptic smile.
"Why not you, Jin?" Her voice was a whisper that seemed to echo from every corner of the room, low and seductive. Each word sent a shiver down his spine.
Jin swallowed hard, his eyes tracing the delicate lines of her face, framed by dark, flowing hair that fell like liquid night over her shoulders. Her skin was pale, almost translucent, and shimmered faintly in the soft light—a divine glow that made her both ethereal and dangerously real. The curve of her lips was soft yet sharp, a smile that spoke of hidden knowledge and temptation. Her body, draped in shadowed fabric that barely clung to her, revealed and concealed in equal measure.
Jin had seen many depictions of the Daedric Prince, but none captured the presence of the woman standing before him now. She was power itself, wrapped in sensuality—a creature of both grace and terror, with every movement, every glance, laden with purpose.
"Nocturnal, I..." His voice faltered as she moved toward him, slow and deliberate, like a predator closing in on its prey. His mind raced. He was mortal, insignificant in the presence of this divine being, yet somehow, she had chosen him.
"You are mine, Jin." Nocturnal's hand reached out, her fingers brushing lightly over his chest, sending warmth flooding through his body. The touch was both tender and commanding, like a queen gracing her chosen knight. "You have always been mine. Even before you realized it."
Jin's breath caught in his throat. His gaze traveled down her body, the way her figure seemed to flow like shadow itself, a perfect blend of curves and sharp lines. Her skin seemed to drink in the light, her presence intoxicating and otherworldly. He couldn't resist her pull, the way she moved with such confidence and poise, every step closer erasing his doubts, his fears, his very sense of self.
"Is this real?" he asked, his voice trembling with both desire and fear.
She leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear. "Does it matter?" Her breath was cool, like the night air. "Reality is what I make it. And you, Jin... you are in my realm now."
Her hand trailed down his chest, slipping under the fabric of his tunic, fingers tracing the muscles beneath. Jin's heart pounded as her touch sent waves of warmth and tension coursing through his body. Her eyes, dark and endless, locked onto his, pulling him deeper into her world.
"You wanted this, didn't you?" she whispered, her lips now close to his. "To be part of something greater, to belong to me?"
He nodded, unable to find words. In this moment, he wasn't the master of his own desires—Nocturnal was. The line between devotion and submission blurred as she took his hand, guiding him toward her, the shadows around them deepening.
"Then show me," she said, her voice soft but commanding. "Prove to me that you are worthy of the gift I have given you."
Her lips met his, soft at first, a testing touch that quickly deepened into something more. Jin's body responded instinctively, drawn to her as if she were the very essence of gravity itself. Her kiss was a mix of warmth and darkness, both tender and consuming, like being caught in a storm of silk and shadow.
Nocturnal pulled away slightly, her lips still brushing his. "Do you see now? I could have chosen anyone, Jin. But it is you who has pleased me." Her fingers wound through his hair, tugging lightly. "You who will serve me."
Jin's breath quickened as her touch roamed over him, her hands deft and knowing, as though she could read every inch of his body, his mind, his very soul. She moved with an elegance and dominance that left no room for hesitation, her presence filling every space around them, swallowing the air itself.
"Lady Nocturnal…" Jin's voice trembled, half-plea, half-reverence.
She silenced him with another kiss, her body pressing closer, her scent intoxicating—like the deepest parts of a forest at night, where no light could touch. Every moment with her was an overwhelming mix of surrender and desire, as if the boundaries of his own mind and body were being rewritten by her will.
As she guided him deeper into the darkness, the weight of her power wrapped around him like a cloak. Nocturnal was not just a Daedric Prince; she was the night itself, and Jin was utterly lost in her. There was no resistance, no question, only the intoxicating pull of the unknown, the seductive promise of something far beyond mortal understanding.
"You will stay with me, won't you, Jin?" she whispered, her lips brushing against his skin as they sank further into the shadows. "Here, in my realm. Forever."
His heart pounded in his chest, every sense overwhelmed by her presence. Her beauty, her power—it was all-consuming. He opened his mouth to answer, but before he could speak, she kissed him again, her body pressing against his with a force that left him breathless.
The shadows around them seemed to pulse with life, wrapping them in a cocoon of darkness, and Jin knew, in that moment, that he was no longer just Jin Gallermo, the modder. He was something else now, something bound to Nocturnal, to the night.
And in that endless, seductive darkness, Jin surrendered completely.
But the truth was simpler—and darker. I could see it. Nocturnal enjoyed the game of it all. Jin was just another mortal caught in the web of a Daedric Prince's whims. But Jin... Oh, dear sweet Jin, he believed he was special. Mortals always do.
It was a bitter evening when the suspicions of the other Nightingales began to stir. Karliah confronted Jin in the Hall one night, her eyes sharp as daggers.
"You've changed," she said coldly. "Nocturnal has changed. What have you done?"
Jin flinched. He didn't know how to explain the pull he felt toward the Daedric Prince. He couldn't explain the way her presence consumed him, how her touch made him forget everything—his life, his mods, his world. But Karliah's words struck deeper than he wanted to admit.
He stood at a crossroads: continue living in the seductive darkness of Nocturnal's realm or break free, return to the real world before it was too late.
In the end, Jin made his choice, though not without pain. He stood before Nocturnal one last time, his heart heavy with the weight of what they'd shared.
"I have to go back," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Nocturnal tilted her head, her expression unreadable. "Go, then," she said. But her voice—oh, her voice was filled with an eerie calm, a promise that Jin would never truly leave.
Jin returned to his hotel room, the stale scent of coffee greeting him like an old friend. The glow of the laptop screen illuminated his pale face once more, but something inside him had shifted.
Behold, the champion I have chosen! Ah, isn't it delightful? You see, I've plucked this one from the chaos of my own realm and dropped him right into the land of Skyrim, all with a flick of my dainty little fingers. Quite the trick, isn't it? This champion, this marvelous creature of whimsy and unpredictability, can wander freely between his delightful domain and the dreary, oh-so-serious realm of Skyrim, all at his own volition. And here you are, watching this grand spectacle unfold. Aren't you lucky? Or maybe you're not. Who can tell in this game of mine? Keep your eyes wide open, for the show is just beginning, and I do love a good audience!
Was it all real? Or just a twisted, glorious dream?
As Jin stared at his unfinished mod, a slow smile crept across his face. Maybe it didn't matter. After all, reality was just one more game to be played.