It was not by mere chance that I became an ally of Mannimarco. Even through the dark magic that has escaped my hands and addled my mind, I still yet believe in fate - the machinations of Akatosh, or Auri-El, who my garish brethren curse the name of. Although Auri-El is a distant figure in my stained timeline, the one responsible for its staining is not. Not a day goes by that my mind doesn't happen upon my ill-fated relations with the King of Worms - my mentor, my lord, my lover.
In the first few years of the early second era, I had proven to be a child prodigy, the pride of my family's Bretonic lineage. By nine, I was utterly destroying my rooms with the destructive force of fire, sending my mother into a daze with unintentional illusions, and accidentally killing my younger sister, Fasiri. For this, I was not punished, but exiled to Artaeum. Here, my family hoped that I could eventually control my magics, and hone it to perfection.
I remember my first day there. Surrounded by all manner of elves I was, the only other human was a Redguard, though he was much older than myself. He did not endure the esoteric teachings of the Psijic Order, nor did he prove to have the will to ponder the transcendency that is magic. In fact, many - elves and men - could not appreciate magic either in its raw or refined form, I watched their numbers dwindle as they abandoned the transcendental teachings over the years. There was never any doubting, even at my small age of nine, that I was one of the greatest.
My black hair stood out among these elves, my pale, Bretonic skin was in heavy contrast to their golden hues. I felt utterly small in the large, white boat leading to Artaeum. It would be the last time I felt small.
"Victoria." The bosun called, making sure I was on deck. How I despised that name - my given name. For so long, it felt so common, it has been an age now since I've heard it.
Even then, I disliked the common name I was given. I glared at the bosun then, but made sure when he saw my face, it was blank and proper. Midway through the passage to Artaeum, a long rowboat, white and gilded with sigils I now know to be belonging to the school of Mysticism, arrived. In it, there were four robed elves, all males. At this time, I was not made aware that the isle of Artaeum was inaccessible to those not in the Order.
The elven male which collected me was wearing a green, silken robe which stood out among the others. I had gazed upon elves even at that age, but these were far more prestigious than the elven merchants and tradesmen occasionally encountered in High Rock. Later in my life, I would swear against Vanus Galerion, although I would always see him as my doorway to magic. And for that, I also swore against ever harming him.
"I can sense your magic, young one. In your father's letter, you were referred to as Victoria. Is this what we shall call you?" Vanus Galerion asked of me, once I was comfortable inside of their boat.
"Victoria was given to me on my birthing bed. I cannot say I am too fond of it, sir." Many times I would insult Vanus Galerion in my head while attending classes in Artaeum, but there was nothing he missed. He was unfailingly sharp, as well as kind. It was almost as if he knew how terrible and great I would become, even then.
"Perhaps you will grow to like it in days passed. Should you think of a more clever name, I would be glad to address you as so. I am Vanus Galerion. The three other mer accompanying us will be your, as you call it in common, teachers. This is Ruwen, Anorion, and Ormindel." They each bowed their heads to me, and took my hand in theirs. They did not kiss my hand, as is the tradition of Bretons. One of them did, however.
Ormindel. That was his name before he became what I knew him to be - Mannimarco. Curiously, he did peck my hand with his lips. I looked into his eyes, the silvery white was rare among humans, and even rarer among elves. Ever the diplomat, was he. He seemed to be quite interested then, and now I know why. Ormindel had heard of what I could do at such a young age, and little did I know then that I would become irrevocably intertwined with the dangerous elf that sat across from me. He was more beautiful than Vanus, if such a thing were possible. At that time, I was still a young girl, and being faced with handsome elven men was intimidating, but my quest for power, as well as knowledge, was stronger than a girlhood attraction.
In the first year at Artaeum, I was taught the Altmeri language. It is still today my language of preference, and I speak it as a native. As a child, I learned this difficult tongue with a brilliance I would apply to my magical studies. The mages of Artaeum did not teach pupils in the common tongue. As I would learn later, the nature of magic is better explained in the language of the High Elves. Many enchantments, wards, and spells inaccessible to one who does not speak it will find that in Altmeri, almost every school of magic is perfected with the use of this elvish language. The only exception to this are the Daedric dialects, which I would be taught by Mannimarco in the coming years.
Unsurpisingly, I had very little contact with the dark wizard in my first couple of years in Artaeum. He had the privilege of choosing his pupils, and due to his magical talent, he had very few. Meanwhile, I was taught by Ruwen and Vanus. I excelled in all of their classes, even at my young age, I was cunning enough to rival my older peers. I was never interested in the radiant humility of healing magics, nor was I particularly that interested in controlling the destructive forces, yet I suffered through these lessons nonetheless. I had not made any friends in my years there, and while many of the students visited with their families for the holidays, I lingered there, not wishing to see my own.
It was during a New Life Festival in my thirteenth year that I had received a gift. They were silken robes of pale grey, perfectly sewn to fit my thin figure. They were long, though, and as I grew taller, I began to become more acclimated to them. I never knew then that it was Mannimarco who sent them to me. It was during my fourteenth year that he slowly began grooming me. He was endlessly perceptive, especially then, before he began underestimating mortality and those who dwell in it. He knew I was greater than the other pupils, he knew I was destined for far more than meditative mysticism.
Five years to the day after I had arrived in Artaeum, did I finish my apprentice lessons. Many stayed behind in those classes, and many never left the learning of the apprentice arts. I was among five other sorcerers who did, all of them vastly older than me. They were nameless then, and they are nameless now. Mannimarco was clever enough to not boast his power, although this did not stop me from hearing rumors about his ability to summon the darker magics, along with his vested knowledge in both necromancy and dark illusions.
It did not take me long to send him a letter, requesting he to be my master instead of Vanus Galerion. I remember the day I received his answer.
In that haven of golden splendor, of esotericism and transcendental mysticism, the sight of the cerulean waves all around me, I was finally allowed to see into the eye of the ocean, the primordial force that is magic, in its rawest, most potent form. Although Mannimarco was a strict professor, he was the greatest. I was one of only three pupils, and in Mannimarco's small abode on the island did we dwell. The other two pupils were males, an Altmer there was and a Dunmer also. Aolyn and Dorvenyn, respectively. Dorvenyn would go on to be a court mage to a nameless Jarl in Skyrim. Aolyn, however, would become a subject to me in the years to come. My servant, as it were. Though not particularly skilled in necromancy, he was of noble heritage, and possessed a deft hand at diplomacy.
It was apparent that our mentor favored me. Mannimarco was charismatic, and did not reveal to his fellow "professors" that he indulged in favoritism or cunning schemes to endanger his less favorable students. It still remains a mystery, to the other residents of Artaeum, how exactly Dorvenyn lost two fingers on his right hand.
The first day being taught by Mannimarco was yet another highlight in my life. As our class was miniscule in comparison to the others, he would often engage us alone. This was his preferred method of teaching. He favored this method because scrutinizing was far easier when it was only two pairs of eyes involved, I would learn this later, as well. I was accustomed to seeing pity in the eyes of my mentors due to my age and lack of supportive family. Mannimarco, on the other hand, offered no pity to give.
His eyes were intense, as light as I ever remembered them. His hair was long and silvery, framing a face I knew later to be of noble heritage. He was tall, like so many elves, as tall as Vanus. I would grow impressively tall for a human, at two inches less than six feet, yet he always stood over a head taller than me.
"I see you are most comfortable in your gifted robes, young Victoria. I had not expected you to grow into them at so youthful of an age.." His calculating eyes ran over my form, in an apparently detached way that I would become most accustomed to. "Over these arduous years, I have watched a precocious child become a rather talented apprentice. Many times, I have been told I possess the gift of foresight, but placing hope in such a 'divine' revelation is below my interests. I have deemed you worthy of my time, and worthier still of my innate skill. You will surpass the others, I believe. Look upon them as noise, no more than the waves which rush to the shore beyond you. They are nothing, and they will amount to nothing. You will be the crowning jewel among the collection of garnets. Tell me, do you still despise your given name? Furthermore, I have noticed you possess a vested interest in the arts of the mind, illusory practices and incantations that leave your lips when you believe no other is watching.. I can teach you things the others could never hope to glimpse upon even if they had the required Eye to do so."
"Yes, Master Ormindel. I have no love for my given name, it is common, unlike my abilities. It has served me well, however, and for that I am not inclined to complain. As for my interests, I wish to know intimately the subtleties of the mind, the elusive art that is illusion and also conjuration, which has been denied to me by the other mentors. I applied to you having heard rumor of your talents, Master."
Out of the two of us, he was far more gifted in the art of wordsmithing than I. Between us, he would ever be the diplomatic politician. I did not know what my future held at that moment, although I knew it held success - but never did I think I would be barred from glory for my practices.
"Although I believe myself to excel at judging characters, I must ask for your word, my pupil." I remember nodding, almost eagerly, there must have been a hunger in my eyes. The allure of my attractive mentor was forgotten in that moment, I wanted his knowledge. "You must never speak of our lessons to the others. You may tell them a fanciful story of how I have taught you to meditate on the humming of Altmeri healing orbs. My interests are far more ambitious than their own, they will not understand, you see." The corners of his mouth transformed into a smirk then, his eyes never changed however.
"I shall be as silent as the dead, Master." Owing to his charming demeanor, he once again pecked my hand with his lips as he did years ago, the same lips which would one day belong to a lich, forever losing their decadence.
"Charming. You may retire to your quarters, I would see you tonight, as the sun falls. We begin our lessons in accordance to the night sky. You will rise at the same time on every day. Your fellow pupils need not know your whereabouts or schedule. If you are not punctual, or you otherwise fail, you will be punished according to the severity of your actions. I am not as forgiving as the others you have been taught by. Now go, I look forward to seeing your skills tonight. Farewell." Mannimarco, or as he was known then, Ormindel, flicked his wrist, and the door out of his study was opened.