?

Log in

No account? Create an account

Live · another · life...in · Oblivion


Memories

Recent Entries · Archive · Friends · Profile

* * *
Rubi was out of the city as fast as possible. She grabbed a horse from the stables just outside of town and charged across the long bridge. The fact that she knew exactly where she was headed only panicked her more. She'd never been to the temple that was in her dreams before yet she knew exactly where it was now. Reaching the edge of the bridge she headed south desperately trying not to think about what she'd seen, but it would be a long journey, the legnth of which she could, alarmingly enough, estimate precisely.

Rubi tried to distract herself, thinking of her childhood in Kvatch serving behind the bar of her parents inn. She remembered her father, he was a Myrmidon in the Kvatchian Arena before he bought the inn. He'd been arrogant, stubborn and selfish. Rubi even remembered the night he died, just to try and fend away the dream. She remembered how they'd been talking, Rubi once more wanting to leave and see the world with Aralin and him once more forbidding it. She remembered how rage seemed to fill her to her very brim and suddenly he was dead. Rubi had blacked out on the actual event. The next thing she remembers is being stood holding the hilt of the bloodsoaked Ribbonblade and him lying dead on the floor. Her mother had sent her out that night. She made it very clear that she never wanted to see Rubi again.

Even those memories were not enough to keep out the dream and the sense of sheer terror that went with it. Rubi pictured the abandoned temple, empty for years except in one room. And there surrounded by freshly lit candles is the cause of all the panic. A sleeping dunmer girl. It took a minute or two before Rubi had recognised her. It was Rubi herself.
* * *