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Description
You want to know my story?
Why should I tell you, of all people?

………………

I have never told anyone.
You will be the first.
…where do I begin?

I was a boy.
My mother had sat me down to work on my letters.
I had just gotten through a disappointing training session with my father; I didn't want to be cooperative.
A friend of hers came to socialize, and with her came her daughter.
I merely glanced at the girl, but forced my attention back to my work.
I felt her take a seat next to me.
I ignored her, she was just another girl, I was in trouble, I had to do my work.
She picked up a brush I wasn't using and took a small sheet of paper.
Only my eyes moved to watch, my curiosity piqued, as she wrote a quick message.
She slid the small piece of paper over towards me.
It said:

My name is Miraa. What's yours?

I was in my teens.
Miraa sat under the tree where we always met after that first day.
Her head was bent, she wouldn't look at me.
I asked what was wrong, she didn't answer.
I knelt beside her, and suddenly she threw up her arms and wrapped them around my neck.
I held her as she cried, not knowing why.
To this day I do not know, but I will always remember what she whispered in my ear:

I love you, Rufus

I was a young man.
We lay in bed together, wrapped in each other warmth.
She was telling me to pursue my dreams, to be what I wanted to be and not what my father wanted.
She said it was my life, not his.
I told her I didn't look at an old text with the same passion to translate it as I did.
I said being a scholar wouldn't provide for our family.
She made me look at her, and told me that no matter what, I would be hers, and she mine.

Then the wars began.

We were married.
We were screaming at each other, she telling me to go fight while I told her we have to wait.
She didn't want us to fall behind, to be weak.
I just didn't want to fight.
I was a scholar, I had listened to her and followed what I wanted for myself.
She was suddenly quiet.
I turned to her and she was crying.
She was afraid.
I wrapped her in my arms, holding her to my chest.
She cried to me, telling me she was terrified.
Our clan was falling apart, we didn't know who would die today, or tomorrow.
She wanted to leave, she wanted us to leave, to be far away from this place.
I told her no.
I told her we should wait, we should wait until the rest of our clan tired itself out.
Then we would fight. We would become the leaders, the two of us.
She looked up at me, and in that look was pride, and asked me to promise.
I murmured I promise.
As I watched her go find her family, I didn't tell her that I simply couldn't leave.
I was a coward.

I was now a man.
I stood in my father's room and stared at the sword that would have been mine, had I followed what he had planned for me and became a warrior.
I listened to the screams outside, the shouts of battle.
Light from the fires that blazed, dragon fire that danced as they fought, lit up the dark room.
I thought of Miraa. I thought about our promise.
She had gone out to fight. She didn't wait, couldn't wait.
I felt tired. So tired.
I thought of my mother.
She fought beside my father, as Miraa and I should be doing. She loved him and would never forsake him, never suppress his desires.
She loved him.
I thought of my father.
He was strong, he was disciplined. He would make a good leader.
But he was naïve. So naïve.
No one would hear me. No one would listen to what I knew would happen.
They do not look at the signs of the past, the warnings that are given.
We are at the pinnacle of our civilization.
We cannot go any higher.
So where else can we go?
Down.
We will come crashing down, and will take all the world with us in our immense power.
We were stupid.
Arrogant.
So stupid.

I took up my sword.
I left the sanctuary of my house.
I forgot the many scrolls in my room.
I forgot Miraa, and my mother.
I remembered my father and his words:

You are my son, and you will fight.

I took the first Rayquaza by surprise.
Then the next put up a fight but failed.
My precision did not fail.
I did not think, I did not fear.
My emotions were controlled, were blanked out.
Another lay dead at my feet.
And then another…
And another…
Control, I told myself.
Control.
Control.
Control.
One broke my concentration for a mere moment.
Rufus! What one earth are you doi-?!
Another Rayquaza dead.
Control.
Control.
Contro-
One placed their hands on my cheeks, their voice breaking through.
You must stop! You have to-
Another dead.
Con…trol.
Con-

No.
I felt the heat burning inside me.
My anger boiled, I was on fire.
I attacked without mercy, I ripped them to shreds.
My blood was lava as it fell down my sides.
I did not notice, I did not care.
My Outrage was intense, unquenchable.
Another fell dead.
Another would never move again.
Another's life was snuffed out.
I killed, and killed, and killed again.
Blood was all around me. I saw red.

I knelt in a pile of corpses.
My clothes were drenched.
My breathing irregular.
It still did not register in my mind what I did.
I still felt a small burning inside me.
Then her voice:

…Rufus?
I spun around.
There was another Rayquaza still alive.
I pulled myself to my feet, and stumbled towards her.
I could see her fear.
A small part of me recognized her.
A small part tried to stop me.
The dying fire was still too strong.

RUFUS!
My blade pierced her heart.
And then the fire died.

I held Miraa in my arms.
She asked me what had I done?
I could not answer.
She wanted to say more, to condemn me, to forgive me, I never knew.
She died.
All was quiet.

I was flying.
The ground soared past me, the wind deafened my ears.
I flew over oceans, over mountains, over cities.
I didn't stop until I could fly no more.
I was in a desert.
The pristine sand shown in the sun.
The heat beat down on my neck, but was surprisingly comforting.
I found some ruins.
They reminded me of the old stories I read in what seemed like another life.

I had found my home.

Description
You want to know my story?
Why should I tell you, of all people?

………………

I have never told anyone.
You will be the first.
…where do I begin?

I was a boy.
My mother had sat me down to work on my letters.
I had just gotten through a disappointing training session with my father; I didn't want to be cooperative.
A friend of hers came to socialize, and with her came her daughter.
I merely glanced at the girl, but forced my attention back to my work.
I felt her take a seat next to me.
I ignored her, she was just another girl, I was in trouble, I had to do my work.
She picked up a brush I wasn't using and took a small sheet of paper.
Only my eyes moved to watch, my curiosity piqued, as she wrote a quick message.
She slid the small piece of paper over towards me.
It said:

My name is Miraa. What's yours?

I was in my teens.
Miraa sat under the tree where we always met after that first day.
Her head was bent, she wouldn't look at me.
I asked what was wrong, she didn't answer.
I knelt beside her, and suddenly she threw up her arms and wrapped them around my neck.
I held her as she cried, not knowing why.
To this day I do not know, but I will always remember what she whispered in my ear:

I love you, Rufus

I was a young man.
We lay in bed together, wrapped in each other warmth.
She was telling me to pursue my dreams, to be what I wanted to be and not what my father wanted.
She said it was my life, not his.
I told her I didn't look at an old text with the same passion to translate it as I did.
I said being a scholar wouldn't provide for our family.
She made me look at her, and told me that no matter what, I would be hers, and she mine.

Then the wars began.

We were married.
We were screaming at each other, she telling me to go fight while I told her we have to wait.
She didn't want us to fall behind, to be weak.
I just didn't want to fight.
I was a scholar, I had listened to her and followed what I wanted for myself.
She was suddenly quiet.
I turned to her and she was crying.
She was afraid.
I wrapped her in my arms, holding her to my chest.
She cried to me, telling me she was terrified.
Our clan was falling apart, we didn't know who would die today, or tomorrow.
She wanted to leave, she wanted us to leave, to be far away from this place.
I told her no.
I told her we should wait, we should wait until the rest of our clan tired itself out.
Then we would fight. We would become the leaders, the two of us.
She looked up at me, and in that look was pride, and asked me to promise.
I murmured I promise.
As I watched her go find her family, I didn't tell her that I simply couldn't leave.
I was a coward.

I was now a man.
I stood in my father's room and stared at the sword that would have been mine, had I followed what he had planned for me and became a warrior.
I listened to the screams outside, the shouts of battle.
Light from the fires that blazed, dragon fire that danced as they fought, lit up the dark room.
I thought of Miraa. I thought about our promise.
She had gone out to fight. She didn't wait, couldn't wait.
I felt tired. So tired.
I thought of my mother.
She fought beside my father, as Miraa and I should be doing. She loved him and would never forsake him, never suppress his desires.
She loved him.
I thought of my father.
He was strong, he was disciplined. He would make a good leader.
But he was naïve. So naïve.
No one would hear me. No one would listen to what I knew would happen.
They do not look at the signs of the past, the warnings that are given.
We are at the pinnacle of our civilization.
We cannot go any higher.
So where else can we go?
Down.
We will come crashing down, and will take all the world with us in our immense power.
We were stupid.
Arrogant.
So stupid.

I took up my sword.
I left the sanctuary of my house.
I forgot the many scrolls in my room.
I forgot Miraa, and my mother.
I remembered my father and his words:

You are my son, and you will fight.

I took the first Rayquaza by surprise.
Then the next put up a fight but failed.
My precision did not fail.
I did not think, I did not fear.
My emotions were controlled, were blanked out.
Another lay dead at my feet.
And then another…
And another…
Control, I told myself.
Control.
Control.
Control.
One broke my concentration for a mere moment.
Rufus! What one earth are you doi-?!
Another Rayquaza dead.
Control.
Control.
Contro-
One placed their hands on my cheeks, their voice breaking through.
You must stop! You have to-
Another dead.
Con…trol.
Con-

No.
I felt the heat burning inside me.
My anger boiled, I was on fire.
I attacked without mercy, I ripped them to shreds.
My blood was lava as it fell down my sides.
I did not notice, I did not care.
My Outrage was intense, unquenchable.
Another fell dead.
Another would never move again.
Another's life was snuffed out.
I killed, and killed, and killed again.
Blood was all around me. I saw red.

I knelt in a pile of corpses.
My clothes were drenched.
My breathing irregular.
It still did not register in my mind what I did.
I still felt a small burning inside me.
Then her voice:

…Rufus?
I spun around.
There was another Rayquaza still alive.
I pulled myself to my feet, and stumbled towards her.
I could see her fear.
A small part of me recognized her.
A small part tried to stop me.
The dying fire was still too strong.

RUFUS!
My blade pierced her heart.
And then the fire died.

I held Miraa in my arms.
She asked me what had I done?
I could not answer.
She wanted to say more, to condemn me, to forgive me, I never knew.
She died.
All was quiet.

I was flying.
The ground soared past me, the wind deafened my ears.
I flew over oceans, over mountains, over cities.
I didn't stop until I could fly no more.
I was in a desert.
The pristine sand shown in the sun.
The heat beat down on my neck, but was surprisingly comforting.
I found some ruins.
They reminded me of the old stories I read in what seemed like another life.

I had found my home.