Eilirsu-dro fears this history will be lost forever to the Baandari. He copies it here so his children's children may know it and make their hearts light.
* * *
Many ages ago, Dark Elves crossed the sands of Elsweyr led by the Fiery One, a mage who had never met a soul he had not wished to conquer. When the Khajiit opened their arms to these ash-faced strangers, those who did not have swords buried in their chests were clapped in irons and shipped away, never to be seen again.
This one's Little Ancestor fled with her caravan into the desert. The Fiery One chased them like the threat of sunrise. Far from food and shelter, they were caught with nowhere to run. The Fiery One searched Little Ancestor and held up a prize: a radish-sized gem, bright as two moons and smooth from being passed between many hands.
"What is this?" the Fiery One asked.
But Little Ancestor bit her tongue and said nothing.
"It is a sacred thing to you?"
Little Ancestor was silent still.
"It holds great power, does it not?"
And at last, Little Ancestor spoke: "It is powerless outside the hands of the Baandari."
The Fiery One waved his warriors to stand down. The gem entranced him. "Covet your miserable lives," he told the Baandari. "Weep as I return victorious to my homeland, where my forceful will shall unravel the hidden powers within this sacred gem."
And so the Fiery One left the clan in the desert with their miserable lives.
But he did not know that Little Ancestor had been given the gem only that day by her clan-mother in exchange for a sweet song to lift everyone's spirits. He did not know that she had planned to give it to her cousin in exchange for his pretty mouth-harp that she had always coveted.
And so the clan did weep, but only with laughter—for the Eye of Baan Dar was indeed a sacred thing, but truly worthless outside the hands of the Baandari.