Eldamil's Story
Little Altmer baby, in the play pen with his friends. Their games are hard to play.
The Illusionists' children are glowing green, laughing, their parents' little 'glow worms'.
The Destructionist's babies are setting fire to the wooden bars. Parents shooting blue lights in panic.
The Mystics are staring into space, parents speaking in hushed tones.
Little Altmer baby, quite at a loss.
Little Altmer boy, in school, with his classmates.
Cast, says the teacher.
The Illusionists vanish from sight, seconds at a time.
The Destructionists startle people with blue lights and orange orbs.
The Mystics swirl purple lights, and orange sparks fly. Spell and sword slip off them like water on rock.
Little Altmer boy concentrates hard. A puff of pink smoke...and a little Scamp appears, for everyone to giggle at. Good laughs all around.
Little Altmer boy blushes...
Altmer boy in Mages Guild, alone at a table during lunch.
Across the room, Illusionists laugh and flirt. All of them so pretty. A faint tinge of green in the eyes, but otherwise gorgeous. Everyone wants them...
The Destructionists are outside, seeing if they can crack boulders if they cast enough fire and ice at them. They laugh the loudest. No one messes with them...
The Mystics are in the library, reading hard books, talking no sense. They study the hardest things. The teachers love them...
Altmer boy alone. A swirl of red smoke and the smell of rotten eggs. A little Clannfear to play catch with later. But first to nibble at his leftovers...
Altmer boy cries when no one's looking...
City in ruins. Screams all around.
The Illusionists turn invisible. The Daedroth can smell them out though...
The Destructionists throw orbs of orange hotness. Atronachs don't burn easily though...
The Mystics cast Spell Reflect. But the Dremora have swords...They cast Reflect Damage. But Spider Daedra spit lightning...
Altmer man, head to toe in red. Three orange mouths behind him.
Effortlessly, a vortex of crimson smoke. The stench of sulphur, smoke, ash, death...
Great scarlet hole to Oblivion. Metal tips poke through. Inch by inch, the Crawler makes its way out, to spit fire and death, to tear down wall and castle, man and mer...
Dremora guards flank him. A Kynreeve delivers his report. Kvatch burns hot.
Eyes cold, Eldamil looks on.
They had always made him feel alone. The Illusionists, too pretty to talk to him. The Destructionists, too great to make friends with him. The Mystics, too smart to need help from him.
Too late to apologize.
Altmer man smiles...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Fictional backstory of Eldamil! The quiet one at school. The one who doesn't fit in anywhere.
The Illusionists are the Pretty people, the Destructionists the Jocks, the Mystics the Nerds. Lol...
Inspired by too many listenings to Too Late To Apologize. I originally intended it to be a girl, but somehow it turned into how Eldamil goes to the Mythic Dawn's side.