You will never be a real elf. You have no knife-ears, you have no supernatural grace, you have no immortality. You are an ordinary man twisted by folklore and delusions into a crude mockery of nature’s perfection.
All the “validation” you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back people mock you. Your parents are disgusted and ashamed of you, your “friends” laugh at your gracelessness behind closed doors.
Elfs are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of living have allowed elfs to sniff out frauds with incredible efficiency. Even humans who “pass” look uncanny and unnatural to a elf. Your ear structure is a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to get a drunk elf to your feast, he’ll turn tail and bolt the second he gets a whiff of your diseased, infected mortal heart.
You will never be happy. You wrench out a fake smile every single morning and tell yourself it’s going to be ok, but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.
Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll buy a rope, tie a noose, put it around your neck, and plunge into the cold abyss. Your parents will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll bury you with a headstone marked with your birth name, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a human is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton that is unmistakably human.
This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.
You will never be a real elf. You have no knife-ears, you have no supernatural grace, you have no immortality. You are an ordinary man twisted by folklore and delusions into a crude mockery of nature’s perfection.
All the “validation” you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back people mock you. Your parents are disgusted and ashamed of you, your “friends” laugh at your gracelessness behind closed doors.
Elfs are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of living have allowed elfs to sniff out frauds with incredible efficiency. Even humans who “pass” look uncanny and unnatural to a elf. Your ear structure is a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to get a drunk elf to your feast, he’ll turn tail and bolt the second he gets a whiff of your diseased, infected mortal heart.
You will never be happy. You wrench out a fake smile every single morning and tell yourself it’s going to be ok, but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.
Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll buy a rope, tie a noose, put it around your neck, and plunge into the cold abyss. Your parents will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll bury you with a headstone marked with your birth name, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a human is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton that is unmistakably human.
This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.
.