Drai At Peace

Years had passed. Other scenes had come and gone. He picked up each of them like shards of a broken burial urn, holding them stupidly as if he couldn’t believe anyone could’ve been so callous as to desecrate the dead inside. He couldn’t bring himself to piece them together though, only stare, like a warrior hit with a paralysis charm.

And as he stared numbly into space, over eons, a thought slowly coalesced in Drai’s mind. Continue reading “Drai At Peace”

Drai Remembers Exile

It wasn’t the beginning of the memory, but it was the thing that stood out to him the strongest.

He was looking into the face of the gulakhan. Rakhulbi shook from head to foot, like he was in a blizzard with no clothes on. And like a blizzard, the gulakhan just stared at him long and hard, no sympathy, no movement. Continue reading “Drai Remembers Exile”

A Mother Returns

“Mother…”

He said it in his waking voice — or as close to waking as counted now. Drai lifted his hand up to brush tears away, but his hand never met his face, because he had neither. Dying echoes of a reality no longer his.

The memory of Rakhulbi had been crying, but now it was frozen in time. Drai stared glumly into the face that had once been his — less tattooed and without the cragginess of an adult Dunmer, but still his. He wondered if anyone would have recognized him. Would… …? He could not remember her name. He let the thought go. Maybe it would never come back. Continue reading “A Mother Returns”

Drai Remembers More

Damn, years later, and this one still gets to me.

Author’s Note

The silence lasted for what felt like days, though there was no telling in the — wherever this was. Oblivion? Drai had gone spirit-walking a few times before while under the Urshilaku farseer’s tutelage, but always with a strong connection to his body. Now he was Shriven, and there was no telling what corner of the Mundus his spirit had been flung to after his battle with the servant of Mephala. In this darkness, he felt reality slipping away from him.

And with it, slowly, his sanity.

The child Rakhulbi still sat where he had been when Drai came here, now staring into nothing, more like a statue than a person. It was a representation of a memory, Drai realized, inert while it wasn’t activated. Was it the only memory left to him? he wondered.

He didn’t want to think about it. But what else was there to think about? In the solitude, it was the only touchstone of the life he had once had. Even the pain of remembering was better than the unreality pressing in on all sides.

Scared, but desperate, Drai sat down next to the scrawny little Dunmer, and reached out to touch him… Continue reading “Drai Remembers More”

Drai Remembers His Past, Is Caught in a Blast

Another mini-retcon here. Drai originally had taken the amulet to fight an agent of Mehrunes Dagon, not Mephala. Since I am condensing storylines though, this seemed like a good excuse to tie up the Mephalan plotline instead.

Author’s Note

The sounds emanating from the yurt stopped Rakhulbi cold in his tracks. His heart started fluttering violently, and for a moment he thought it might be due to the weight of the scuttlers dangling from his shoulders, that he had caught in snares along the old foyada. He realized just as quickly that their weight couldn’t be that great and scolded himself. It wasn’t fatigue, but an anger he could do nothing about. Continue reading “Drai Remembers His Past, Is Caught in a Blast”