When the people of Riverwood started to worry about their wizard friend, Skyl, at that very moment he did not return to the Leaky Cauldron in World I. Hermaeus Mora's sudden visit had shaken him to his core, but the strange development that followed filled him with a wild, unexpected joy. Holding the unconscious owl Kaia in his arms, Skyl walked all the way back to the ruined hut in the wilderness, using the long trek to calm his nerves.
That "ruined hut"… really could no longer be called ruined. Skyl had repaired it repeatedly with the Mending Charm and Transfiguration, then added fences and pit traps. By now it was a small but secure refuge. He had even bought a set of bedding in the Harry Potter world, so he could lie down on a soft, warm bed.
Now he sat at the edge of that bed, entirely focused on the door-shaped mark on the back of his hand.
The stream of information flowing into his mind had changed.
[World I: Open]
[World II: Arrived]
[World III: Countdown ??:??]
[World α: Countdown 00:01]
Worlds I and II needed no further explanation. World III's timer had appeared as soon as Skyl reached The Elder Scrolls world, and it was still nothing but question marks. But after the door-shaped mark devoured Mora, World Alpha (alpha, the first letter of the Greek alphabet) had appeared. By the time Skyl reached the little wilderness hut, its countdown was already almost finished.
He stared at the mark without blinking. That single minute felt impossibly long; his palm was slick with hot sweat.
Countdown 00:00
[World α: Open]
Skyl let out a long breath and raised his hand, opening the portal leading to World Alpha.
On the other side was utter darkness. There wasn't even a hint of wind, only a steady pull as it drew the air out of the hut.
Faced with that bottomless, boundless dark, his mortal body trembled. Yet somewhere deep inside, Skyl's soul gave a satisfied sigh.
He spoke to the world beyond the portal.
"Let there be light."
And in the depths of the darkness, lights flickered to life—pale, ghostly lamps, like dozens of stars opening their eyes. They lit up the surroundings, and through the portal Skyl could finally see clearly.
Beyond the door was an empty hexagonal gallery. Floor and walls were made from seamless slabs of creamy marble. In the center of the gallery there was a vertical ventilation shaft, ringed by a low granite balustrade.
The portal clung to one of the six walls. Skyl could see that the remaining five were bare and blank, and apart from the floating spheres of light, there was nothing at all.
The air it had sucked from the hut now filled this space, and the wind died away.
Cautiously, Skyl stepped through the portal and set foot in this strange World Alpha for real. He stood on the immaculate hexagonal floor and peered down into the shaft. It was pitch-black, swallowing all light, like a place where the world's texture simply hadn't loaded in—a pure, absolute void.
Unlike any other place he had been, World Alpha felt unnaturally comfortable to him. A warm, homely happiness welled up in his chest, as if he had come back to where he belonged. That suspicious sense of belonging immediately put him on his guard.
Just as he'd seen from the other side of the portal, there was nothing in the gallery. Skyl looked at the light orbs floating around him and said,
"Lights out."
All the spheres dimmed at once. The trapped photons in the room scattered in panic and ultimately slipped away down the shaft.
"Let there be light."
The light spheres obediently bloomed into being again.
By copying the acts of God in the Book of Genesis, Skyl gained a considerable degree of control over World Alpha.
He was already starting to guess what this place truly was.
To explain, he had to begin with the entity the door-shaped mark had devoured: Hermaeus Mora.
Hermaeus Mora, in the lore of The Elder Scrolls, was a true godlike being—a great Daedric Prince. Like the other fifteen Daedric Princes, He dwelt in Oblivion, beyond the mortal world. In that endless, unfathomable expanse, each Daedric Lord shaped Their own "kingdom", Their own realm of Oblivion: worlds like heaven, where god and worshippers alike resided.
After the door-shaped mark consumed most of Hermaeus Mora's power, it shaped World Alpha. This was Skyl's own "kingdom", his personal Oblivion realm—a tiny universe that belonged only to him.
Once he understood this, his previous terror and lingering fear evaporated. First he stared at the mark on his hand with open fascination and wonder. Then he sincerely thanked old man Mora for the massive gift. The generous Daedric Prince had just turned a novice wizard at the beginning of his career into a property owner in one stroke. Calling Mora his number-one rich benefactor wouldn't even be exaggerating.
Sure, that top benefactor was ugly and had bad intentions—but he had given so much.
Weakened Mora: unconscious…
Skyl: "If you don't despise me, I'd gladly recognize you as my dear foster father.jpg."
Skyl looked around World Alpha. The layout of hexagonal galleries and a central shaft immediately made him think of a certain story.
In 1944, the Argentine writer Jorge Luis Borges wrote a short story called "The Library of Babel." The library in that story was built from endless hexagonal galleries, each packed to the ceiling with shelves and books. The Library of Babel was a metaphor, standing for the universe itself, praising its vastness, its infinity and its eternal beauty.
Skyl's World Alpha was a miniature universe, a little Library of Babel. He thought the parallel was perfect. Hermaeus Mora was, after all, the Daedric Prince of knowledge. His divine realm was a library stuffed with endless mysteries. After devouring His power, the universe that had been created here was a library as well.
From this day on, Skyl was the librarian of that library—and the library itself was his Oblivion realm, his kingdom.
He decided to name this world: the Tower of Tomes. For now it was still empty, but one day it would become a paradise sought after by all who pursued knowledge.
When Skyl returned to the wilderness hut, Kaia finally woke. The poor owl buried her head beneath her wings and hooted in distress. It took a great deal of patience to calm her down.
As a magical owl, she had been born to see all kinds of wondrous, fantastical sights—but staring directly at a foreign god had still been far too much. Skyl found himself worrying about Kaia and the people of Riverwood. Even though Hermaeus Mora could only manifest a weak fraction of His power in the mortal world, the fallout of His forced descent might be profound—lingering like radioactive dust for centuries, leaving the locals with unknown mutations.
To check Kaia's condition, Skyl brought her into the Tower of Tomes. Here, he was a true god; his eyes were almost all-seeing and all-knowing. The result confirmed his fears: in the depths of Kaia's soul there were traces of Mora's presence. Tiny pathological factors were tucked away there, like tiny lightless yellow-green eyeballs, extremely well-hidden—barely larger than water molecules—and in a dormant state, which made them even harder to detect.
Skyl ordered these foreign elements to depart. They peeled away from Kaia and drifted into the air of the Tower of Tomes. These strange factors from a Daedric Prince were extremely valuable research material, and storing them in the Tower was an excellent way to keep them safe.
Next, it would be the people of Riverwood's turn for a check-up. Skyl had no intention of letting them quietly bear the consequences of something they had never asked for. Even if it was troublesome, he would make it right. Besides, this was a good chance to collect more of Mora's essence. His "business" was just starting out; he had to hoard everything he could get.