RubyRubyRuby and the Cathedral of Bones

In the dream, I was lying in the sand, and Ruby was plaiting flowers into my hair. Candles burned around us, and the air was thick with the scent of incense. I think we might have been in a Cathedral of Bones. There was a war at the time, and the Cathedral was supposed to protect us from the cries of the dead. But they seeped around the edges anyway—those cries. They spilled into the dream, then, and Ruby moved her fingers through my hair, softly and slowly, and wept.<br><br>In the dream, Ruby was our age. My age, anyway. She was twenty-one. I think she had been twenty-one for a very long time. She seemed so old, in a lot of ways. Older, even, than the Cathedral of Bones. But it was her eyes, I think. It was her eyes, which were black, and her teeth, which were sharp as knives. They made her look like someone who existed outside of time.<br><br>I don't know how long the dream lasted. It's possible that hours passed, for there were hours passing in the world outside my head. But I don't remember. I don't remember that part.<br><br>I do remember how I woke up, feeling like the dreams were bleeding into my waking life. It was as if I was still in the Cathedral of Bones, and Ruby was still plaiting the flowers in my hair. I sat up in bed, feeling around, trying to remember. But I reached out with empty arms. The room was dark, and my heart was pounding in my chest. I couldn't remember the last time I'd had a dream like that.<br><br>I hadn't had a dream like that since the first time I met Ruby. She'd been waiting for me in the Cathedral of Bones, then, too. She'd been plaiting flowers into the hair of a skeleton, and she'd looked up at me with those black eyes of hers. I remember that I felt scared, at the time. I remember that I turned and ran, because she frightened me. But she called me back.<br><br>“Eira,” she said. “Eira, come back. I won't hurt you.”<br><br>I'd turned around, because she called me by name. That frightened me, too. “How did you know my name?” I asked.<br><br>Ruby shrugged. “I know everything,” she said. “I know your mother's name, and your father's name. I know how your mother died, and how she was buried, and what grew on her grave, and what was plucked from it.”<br><br>I felt a lump in my throat. “Ruby,” I said. “How did you know my name?”<br><br>“I've been waiting for you,” she said. “I've been waiting for quite some time.”<br><br>I didn't know what to say to that. Part of me wanted to run again. Part of me wanted to trust her. She was so beautiful, so dark. She was so full of secrets.<br><br>“Why have you been waiting for me?” I asked her.<br><br>She smiled. “I've been waiting for you,” she said, “because you're the only person who can help me.”<br><br>“Help you do what?” I asked.<br><br>“Day and night,” she said. “I've been waiting for you, until day and night are one.”<br><br>I felt a shiver run down my spine. “What does that mean?” I asked her.<br><br>“It means that the world is going to end,” she said. “It means that the world is dying, and it's a terrible, beautiful thing.”<br><br>I didn't know what to say to that. I didn't know what to say, for a very long time. Ruby watched me, waiting for me to speak. She watched me, then, with a beautiful, terrible smile.<br><br>“I'm afraid,” I said, finally.<br><br>“Don't be afraid,” she said. “I'll help you. I'll be with you, always.”<br><br>But that frightened me, too. “Why?” I asked her.<br><br>“Because,” she said, “you're the only person who can help me.”<br><br>I swallowed hard. I didn't know what to say. “Why do you need help?” I asked her.<br><br>“I'm afraid,” she said. “I'm afraid of the world ending.”<br><br>“But you said it was a beautiful thing.”<br><br>“Yes,” she said. “It's a beautiful thing. But I'm afraid of it anyway. I'm afraid of what it will be like, when the world has ended. I'm afraid of what happens next.”<br><br>“What is going to happen next?” I asked her.<br><br>Ruby shrugged. “I don't know,” she said. “But I think we'll find out together.”<br><br>Then, she turned back to the skeleton. She was still plaiting flowers into the skeleton's bony hair, and I watched her, transfixed. I remember that I loved her, at that moment. I remember that I loved her—Ruby, Ruby, Ruby—and I would do anything for her. I loved her, because she was beautiful and terrible, and I had never felt that way about a person, before.<br><br>I would do anything for her. Anything at all.<br><br>And so I lay in bed, half asleep, reaching out into the darkness. I was reaching out for Ruby, I think. I was reaching out to her, to touch her face and her hair.<br><br>“Ruby,” I whispered. “I'm afraid.”<br><br>“Don't be afraid,” she said. “I'll be with you. Always.”<br><br>I felt a hand on my forehead, then. It was cool, and soft. I think it might have been Ruby's hand. I think she might have been there, in the room, watching me.<br><br>I sat up in bed, and I touched the hand. It was gone, then, and a piece of paper had fallen onto my lap.<br><br>I picked it up. It was a note, written in a beautiful, terrible script.<br><br>“I'm waiting for you,” it said. “I'll be waiting for you, always.”<br><br>I crumpled up the note, and I reached out again. “Ruby?” I called.<br><br>There was no answer. But I heard my heart pounding in my chest. I heard the sound of sand falling around my body. I heard the sound of Ruby's fingers moving through my hair.<br><br>And then I heard the sound of Ruby's voice. “I'll be with you,” she said. “Always.”<br><br>I closed my eyes, at the sound of her voice. I closed my eyes, and I fell back into the dream.