Ankyra Sound Your temporary touch

This woman. She closes in, that same familiarity in her mismatched eyes. Who is she? Who is she? I know her. He thinks, mind reeling trying to dig out the memories. He looks over her small frame, and stares dead into her mismatched eyes — one of canary and the other a deep oceanic blue. Familiar. Oh so familiar.

Only then her voice pushes through the crazed fog of his far away mind,

Alduin the saint. You have lost your way,

Her voice. That voice. It strikes like a bolt of lightning in his head.

You have forgotten me. She says, finality in her low tone. 

No I haven’t. He thinks. No, no, I haven’t — I know. 

And just like that a dam breaks within his clouded mind. Memories flood in like crashing waves. This is the small tentative girl he’d met all those months ago in the dead of night. Her eyes had stricken him then and they haunt him now with the resurrection of memories. The two of them walking for hours side by side. The days they spent together — two lost pups finding their own wicked ways in the disgusting world they’ve found themselves born in.

Alduin’s hackles are still raised, but his eyes aren’t glazed with his usual savagery, but rather filled with muted emotion. Hardly any emotion in fact, except that pinch of astonished recollection of exactly who she is. 

He hears his brother pad up next to him, but he doesn’t pay him any kind just yet. His presence is enough to placate him. Yet, his brows stay furrowed, but scarred lips relax. His body loosens some, but continues to stay taught. Head still level with his shoulders, he watches her — looks at her. Tries his best to ignore the entity beside him and focus on her. A memory long lost but recently resurfaced — like a message in a bottle, he was meant to find her again. Just as he was meant to come back here and take his vengeance in a lust for blood. 

“The shadow.” He grunts out, voice deep in baritone and gravelly with disuse. “You live.” He comments darkly, but not with disappointment, rather the opposite.