Deep in the heart of the Imperial City within Cyrodiil. In the Arcane University classroom for Mage's that had a six rank of 'Magician', a young Magician by the name of Nathan Sharp was entertaining his classmates. It was the start of the new year and Nate had convinced his classmates to party in their classroom to what would hopefully be their last night as Magicians. Most would no doubt be graduating on to the status of Warlock before the week was out. So, he wanted to make the most of his time. After months of studying in a stuffy tower with teachers that were as stiff and as cold the white stone the tower was made of. He wanted to bring in the new year with some fun. They were Mages. Not statues of knowledge. Standing on the teacher's long wooden deck, Nathan strummed on a beautiful redwood Mandolin. All around him, students danced to the beat and conjured different things to add to the fun. Some conjured colorful fireworks that rippled across the high ceiling of the classroom. While others used Alteration magic to make the floor tiles change colors with the beat. There were even some that made some peoples clothes glow with striking colors.

Everyone was having a blast. All around Cyrodiil, people were celebrating the dawn of the new year with Bards along the streets or in the Taverns. Times were bleak and politics were a fucking nightmare... but for just a few hours in this night, none of that mattered. Unless you were a Mage. The Arcane University was the only place not celebrating. The Mages always stressed self-control and held themselves with such refinement that they were a drag to be around. They never let themselves have any fun. It was almost criminal. Nathan had done his best to be a good student, but a man of his age needed to let loose, or he was going to go insane. All those that agreed with him were in this room at exactly midnight. All of them were young Mages that didn't come here to slave away in dusty books just to learn to suppress who they were. They were Mages. They could be out there helping the locals have a great time. Instead of being trapped on campus with Mages that didn't mingle with 'common folk.' It pissed Nate off that he paid money to be here and it felt like he had paid to be imprisoned for being different. He had enough and decided to throw a party. He didn't care if he got in trouble. He needed to do something to remind himself who he was and where he had come from.

The party raged for a few hours. Getting louder and louder as the young Mages let themselves go to the music. As two Mages jumped up on the desk to dance and sing next to him, Nate leaned back against them or sang with them. Right up until he spotted a young Mage in the corner of the classroom. The young Mage was lean and dressed in the Arcane University's blue uniform that was a floor length robe. His short brown hair had long bangs that he used to hide behind as he stood hidden in the corner. Someone had clearly dragged him along, or he had wandered in on his own. Either way, he looked timid and nervous compared to the rest here. Hopping down from the desk, Nate continued to play his instrument as he danced his way through the crowd. Reaching the young Mage, he leaned in to meet the young Mage's ocean blue eyes and grinned. Over the music and singing of the crowd, Nate asked him with a wicked charm to his voice. "Did you come here alone?" The young Mage blushed a deep red, stammering out quickly. "Yes. No!" Nate tilted his head with a chuckle, causing the Mage to correct more clearly. "Yes. I came here alone... but I'm taken. I'm sorry."

Nate shrugged, leaning in a bit more to state out curiously. "And yet, you came here alone. What kind of lover does that?" The young Mage rolled his eyes, before stating back aloud. "I didn't have a choice. He's not allowed on Campus. Besides, he's fighting tonight. He's a pit fighter." Nate stiffened, stopping in the middle of his playing as he asked completely caught off guard. "He's a what?! Who are you?" Nate had met a lot of Mages. All of them came from wealth and highborn statuses. Even his own family was titled. It was almost unheard of that anyone of common to lowborn statuses made it into the Mage Guild. Let alone were good enough to make it to the Arcane University. They certainly didn't minge with Pit Fighters. Pit Fighters were lowborn commoners. One step up from the homeless. The young Mage locked eyes with him, answering promptly with a defensive spark. "My name is Jack McLoughlin. And before you insult me, you should know that Mark Fischbach is the undefeated Crimson Blade. Now... Who are YOU?" Nate gawked at him, uttering out a little impressed. "No shit? Well, in that case. My name is-" Before Nate could finish, a man suddenly bellowed out over the music. "NATHAN SHARP!" All the music and magic in the room stopped in an instant.

Nate blinked, biting his lip as his eyes turned to the doorway. The second his eyes met with the Master-Wizard; Nate let out a heavy exhale. Raminus Polus was the second highest ranking Mage in the Arcane University. Second only to the Arch-Mage. Raminus was a hard ass and he had it out for him. Since the moment he had arrived at the University, Raminus had his eyes on him. Raminus stood up straight, his pale blue floor length robes made from the purest silk. He had a rounded face with short grey hair that was well groomed, and he wore black shoes with golden trim. At his throat was a large white diamond brooch and within his hands was a hard book copy of the 'Manuel Of Spellcraft.' It was a known fact that Mages never pointed at anyone because it was seen as a possible casting threat. So, when Raminus pointed one of his tan human fingers at him to beckon him toward him, the young Mages gasped in horror. Raminus was furious. Nate slung his Mandolin over his back, casually walking toward him without fear. Everyone either feared or respected Raminus. Nate felt neither for him. As Nate stepped out of the room, Raminus turned his cold grey eyes on the class to state out darkly. "You all will be held accountable for your actions this night. Go back to your dorms. Pray that I don't send you packing."

Raminus then turned to put a firm hand on Nate's shoulder and began to lead him down the dimly lit hallway. All along the walls were pictures of respected Mages from all over Tamriel. Almost every race had a respected Mage represented. Minus the Orcs. Their Shamans didn't count to the Council of Mages. Guiding him to a circular stone platform at the end of the hall, Nate stared at the engraved markings of a magic sigil which glowed with purple light. There were no stairs in the Arcane University. They only used the transporting circles to get around the massive white stone tower. Guiding him onto the platform with him, Raminus stated in a clear voice. "Council room." A purple light surrounded them in a blinding light, before dimming out to reveal a room. The room was circular in design with a large wooden circular table in the very center. The walls were decorated with the long blue banners that had the golden Mage Eye symbol on them. Along the ceiling, balls of bright starlight floated around the room giving off the only light in the chamber. Raminus gestured to a seat at the round table, telling him in a firm voice. "Have a seat, Nathan." Nate moved to one of the shiny brass stools at the table, taking a cautious seat. He had never been in here before. This was the room for the Council of Mages. Things weren't good if he had taken him here.

Raminus set his book down on the opposite side of the table from Nate, then sat down elegantly before starting off. "I get the feeling that you don't want to be here, Nathan. Am I right?" Nate rested his arms on the table, leaning on it as he retorted honestly. "Wrong. I do want to be here. I want to learn all that I can... but I'd be lying if I said that I was happy. I'm a free spirit and you have me trapped in this tower like a bird in a cage." Nate gave him a shrug, stating out in a light voice. "That wouldn't bother me... I know you have your reasons for isolating us during training. But I'm going crazy here! I feel like I'm wasting my youth! All these stupid rules. Got to be quiet. Got to stay within the grounds. Got to control your emotions and not use magic outside of class. It's ridiculous!" Raminus straightened up more, keeping perfect posture as he told him without flinching. "Magic needs discipline. Magic is NOT a toy to be played with. Like a wildfire, if left unchecked it could destroy EVERYTHING. These students need to control their minds and emotions. Otherwise, accidents happen out of rage or jealousy. Accidents this city cannot afford. Do you understand me?" Nate nodded, but quickly snapped back. "Oh, I understand. You want to keep us in a cage until we are too old to have any fun."

Raminus narrowed his eyes on him, causing Nate to pipe in before he could say anything. "Maybe there wouldn't be any 'accidents' if we interacted with the commoners. Take tonight for instance. We could have lit this city up like no other! I bet the commoners would have LOVED IT! Is that not what our gifts are for? To help bring happiness to those without it?" Raminus showed no emotion when he retorted bluntly. "Our gifts are meant to guide those without. We are not entertainers. Our wisdom influences the decisions of kings and queens. A position that we only have because we restrain ourselves. To show off and flaunt our magic like you desire, will only scare them. They will turn against us if they were to see how powerful we are. You are young. I understand it is hard... but you must endure. The line between us and them is too thin. Too fragile. A rogue wind could break it. Do you want Cyrodiil's Mages to be shunned and mistrusted like the Mages of Skyrim?" Nate blinked, retorting sarcastically with distaste. "I thought it was the practice of Necromancy that made Skyrim shun its Mages? Oh... wait. That was what WE did to them." Raminus let out a heavy sigh, stating out to Nate dryly. "Nathan... Necromancy has no place in magic. But that is another matter entirely. We are talking about your misuse of it. You want to be an entertainer? Become a Bard. We are Mages. Not prancing fools."

Nate snorted, retorting snarkily. "You're right. We're just the royal ass kissers." Raminus tensed, sneering back. "Curb that Nord tongue of yours, Nathan. I've tolerated your snarky comments out of respect for your Breton mother. But do not test me. A mixed blood like you should be appreciative of your position." Nate felt his words like a knife to the heart. Nords were always looked down on in Cyrodiil. They were seen as warmongering brutes. While Bretons weren't treated much better. Bretons were the offspring of Elves and Nords. Bretons were gifted with an Elf's magical power and resistance to it... Along with a Nords hardy nature and fighting skills. Bretons were only held in higher respect because of their elven blood. Since High Elves were seen as the most powerful Mages in the world. Otherwise, Bretons would be just as shunned as the Nords and Orcs. It was clear after his birth that his magical talents came from his Breton mother. Which meant he had enough elven blood in him to be labeled as a Breton. Locking his jaw in anger, Nate rose from his stool. He didn't like people bringing his heritage into fights. It was cowardly. Mages frequently were the ones to bring it up as an insult.

A pure Imperial human like Raminus was held in higher standing than a Breton because of his 'pure' background. Pure Mages loved to mock Bretons by calling them a 'Mongrel Race.' The heavily diluted Elven blooded race. Glaring at Raminus, Nate sneered out darkly. "Appreciative of my position? Why? Do you think I didn't earn my place here?" Raminus's tension melted as he coolly stated back. "Not at all. As a Breton, you are gifted. No one can deny that. I just know other races would kill to take your place here. Yet, just like a Nord... you piss away your future by acting like a wild animal. So, learning to control that part of yourself will be tough for you, I'm sure." Nate felt his blood boil, but he kept himself under control as he told him firmly. "Thank you for making this decision easy for me. Since you think so highly of me, you won't be surprised when I say this... Go fuck yourself." Raminus jumped to his feet, knocking his stool over as he snapped out utterly appalled. "Apologize this instant, Nathan! What would your mother think of this behavior?!" Nate rolled his eyes, grumbling out dryly. "I don't know. My parents are dead... but I'd like to think they are cheering me on because they want me to be happy. And after saying that... I am."

Nate started walking to the transportation circle, when Raminus snapped out sharply. "Nathan! Apologize to me or you are out of here! You hear me?! You'll be finished as a Mage! You'll NEVER be allowed back as long as I breathe!" Nate inhaled slowly, then turned to look at him. For a moment, a grin spread over Raminus's face, until Nate told him in a calm understanding tone. "So be it." Raminus took a step closer to him, hissing out. "You are making the biggest mistake of your life because you can't control your Nord nature! You'll regret this moment for the rest of your life!" Nate stood tall, replying seriously. "You're wrong. I regret that it took me this long to see where I need to be. You haven't seen the last of me, Raminus." Raminus shook his head, snapping out darkly. "Oh, I have. I assure you. As Master-Wizard, I BANISH YOU! You set foot back in Cyrodiil and I'll have you arrested as a heretic!" Nate shrugged carelessly, saying with a genuine smile. "Ok. I can live with that. See you on the flip side." Raminus's jaw dropped and Nate chuckled as he stepped onto the platform and waved to him. There had only been one other Mage that had ever turned away from the Arcane University. He had been a Necromancer and was practically chased out the door. While Nate was choosing to walk out of his own free will.

Traveling back to the dorm, Nate packed up the few items that he possessed into his brown canvas rucksack. The students in his dorm gawked at him with wide eyes as he made his way out without a care in the world. They all expected him to be devastated, but he could only think about the world of opportunities that just opened up for him. After years trapped in this hellhole, Nate was ready to go home. He didn't know where the road ahead would take him, but he was ready to live and grow as a person. He wanted to put life to the test. Good or bad. He was ready for change. It was long overdue. Venturing out of the Arcane gates, Nate walked through the white cobblestone city, taking deep breaths of the fresh air. Dawn was just cresting the horizon as he reached the stables outside the Imperial City's main gates. Paying the stableman for taking care of his horse, he walked up to the lean bay colored horse with a black mane. Walter. Putting his black saddle on Walter, he attached his bags to it and swing himself into the saddle. Adjusting the strap of his mandolin across his chest, he took the reins and tapped his heels to get Walter into a trot.

As Nate rode through the countryside, his heart felt as light and as free as the wind. He couldn't wait to see the borders of Skyrim again. He missed the crisp winters and the hardy people of the North. As stubborn as the Nords were... He'd take their blunt honestly over the backstabbing of the capital. Nords didn't treat Bretons any better. Seeing them as the offspring of the very elves they wanted gone from their land, but they loved a free spirit with the courage to fight for what they believed in. Being a Breton had its pros and cons. As a half-breed, He could adapt to whatever side he needed to in order to survive. Playing a High Elf had broken him... but the Nord in him was ready to go home and keep fighting on. He needed to find a place that let him be himself. That balanced the chaos he battled within himself. He felt like everything had clicked into place for him. A new year. A new start. Change was on the wind. He could feel the magic of it in his blood and he couldn't wait to run into it. He even knew where he planned to start. He was off to Solitude to join the Bard College. Crossing over the border, Nate slowed Walter down from his gallop.

It had taken him most of the day to reach the large wooden gates of Helgen. He was starving and needed a break from riding for a bit. He was getting saddle sore. Walter needed a breather too; he was panting pretty hard. They were both rusty to long trips. Helgen was bustling with people this evening. Most were stumbling from the tavern or finishing their shopping to head home to make dinner. They briefly glanced at him as he rode by, but they didn't acknowledge him. Nords weren't known for warm greetings unless they knew you. Guiding Walter to a hitching post, Nate swung off the saddle to tie his reins to it. Instantly, Walter sank his nose into the freshwater basin to gulp down mouthfuls. Giving his neck a quick pat, Nate stiffly made his way up the wooden steps and into the Sleeping Troll Inn. The smell of rich pies, freshly baked bread, and meat filled his nose, making his stomach growl. A tall fair blonde Nord woman welcomed him in, ushering him to a bench as she asked him curtly. "Anything you'd like, Lad? Perhaps a drink to fight the chill? I have a nice mead made with the freshest Juniper Berries?" Nate nodded happily to her and added promptly. "I'll try that and some beef stew with a side of some of that fresh potato bread that I smell. Please?" The woman winked at him, tapping his arm as she blushed out. "Coming right up, Sweetheart. My name's Vilod, by the way."

Nate winked back to her, telling her in a pleasant voice. "Lovely name. Vilod." She blushed a deeper red, biting her lip as she turned to hurry away. Grinning after her, he slowly turned to face the table. It was no secret to him that people thought he was attractive. He was the adorable mix of Elven charm and the lean body of a Nord. He'd never let that go to his head though. He just enjoyed flirting a bit to help relax people around him. Otherwise, he'd been told that people avoided him because they didn't feel like a guy with his looks would be nice. It was a trait for beautiful Elves to be snobbish. They looked down on every race that wasn't their own. He didn't want people to think that of him. Vilod brought over his food a short time later, asking politely if she could sit by him and chat with him for a bit. Nate nodded, but was already gulping down the mead and biting into the half of fresh bread. He had suffered years of cabbage soup and water. It was nice to eat and drink things with flavor. She asked him about where he came from and where he was headed. Common pieces of conversation that he answered without too much thought.

As the sunset outside, Vilod was pulled away to take orders from her late night customers. Nate started to think about a room for the night, when the hair on his arms rose. He had always had a strange sense. His mother had told him it had something to do with his Elven blood. Right now, he couldn't tell if he was sensing lots of power or danger. The door to the Inn opened, letting in a sharp chill breeze as a slender man entered. The man looked to be a fair High Elf with pale skin like the snow and golden straight hair that hung a little over his shoulders. His eyes were an icy blue and from his pointed ears hung hoop earrings of stunning gold. The man was dressed in a royal purple silk suit that was embroidered in silver accents. Around the man's head was a circlet of silver with a large white diamond in the center with two smaller white diamonds beside it. The man removed his brown leather riding gloves as the Nords looked at him with narrowed and mistrusting glances. Nate guessed he was a lord of some kind. He had to be someone powerful and important to be wearing so much wealth and yet had no guards to protect him. The man brushed his long golden bangs over one of his eyes, causing his eyes to meet Nate's.

The man strolled toward him, giving him a warm smile as he asked him in a cool polite voice that was heaven on the ears. "Would you mind if I sit here?" Nate pried his eyes away to look around. Everywhere else, people were sitting in pairs or groups. He was the only one sitting alone. Not wanting to be rude, he told him nicely. "Go ahead." The man elegantly draped himself on the bench, putting his back to the table as he crossed his legs and extended a hand out to say formally. "Thank you. Let me introduce myself. My name is Escher. Consort to the Lord in Castle Volkihar." To Be Continued...