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Everyday Dungeon Master
Prologue - My Name Is.

Prologue - My Name Is.

Prologue - My Name Is.

“Oh, [ ] is it? Nice name. Sorry, you can’t keep it.” Even those few, scarce words were beginning to fade as she lays on her back, staring upwards. It was a male voice, rough like sandpaper, though she can’t remember much else. That would be the problem, she cannot remember much of anything. The vague, heavy sensation in her chest grows a little stronger, spreading through her body with an uncomfortable weight.

She blinks, slowly, staring up at the ceiling. Just high enough that she cannot jump to touch it is stone slick with condensation, creating a reflective sheen across the surface. Every so often, the condensation collects enough to form a droplet which breaks free of the slick curtain and makes a faint noise not unlike the higher notes on a piano. The sound is constant, it is no less than rainwater upon a lake, dripping and dripping and dripping. Drip. A small droplet lands on her cheek, prompting her to roll to the side and cover her exposed cheek with one light brown hand. Her lips thin as she sighs through her nose, closing her eyes. That she had been able to describe the rainwater like a piano meant that she was not bereft of all memory and sense, but the fleeting comparison had not been deliberate.

Her eyes open again and she stares out once more. Lying upon a raised rock formation that resembled a dias barely two meters across, she resembles a beached fish. Just a few inches below the platform lies the waterline, a surface upon which the raindrops play their music, and in every direction around her is a dark cave wall. With the closed nature of the space, the artificial rain echoes constantly and leaves everything damp and slick with water. The entire area is dimly lit with small glowing rocks embedded into the floor, ceiling, and walls. That is all there is to this place, water and walls.

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She has been staring at the same scenery for days now. A dimly lit space with an endless echo of rainwater. That is all there is to this place. An empty cave, an empty room, and an empty her. She laughs, soft and weak exhales inaudible underneath the rain, then drags herself up.

Licking her chapped lips, she drags herself closer to the edge of the water. The surface of the pool is distorted by ripples, bouncing light in wavering and twisting patterns every which way. Besides the platform she’s on, the rocks here are as dark as pitch or the abyss of space itself, leaving the cave surface above water looking as though it is a night sky. She laughs again as the visual sets in - truly, she feels wrapped in the cloak of rainwater and night, with neither the moon nor the sun to guide her way.

The nameless woman digs her fingernails against the edge of the platform and leans forward slowly, allowing curtains of black hair to dip into the water. Her eyes are as dark as the cave walls, or close enough, though with the rippling of the water and the lighting underneath the surface she can barely get a good look. Besides the waterlogged tunic and trousers she’s wrapped in, a black choker is wrapped around her neck. By running her fingers over the front, she can feel the ridges and bumps of embroidery that form square brackets like a placeholder. As though making a demand, the piece of fabric had reappeared on her neck even after she picked and ripped it open with her fingernail.

Staring down at the pool, dripping with sparkling rainwater underneath an artificial sea of stars, she closes her eyes and sighs. A name. It comes to her like the word piano had before, a borrowed concept she knows is right. As she decides, the choker warms against her skin as letters embroider themselves into the front. Frowning, the dark-haired woman flips the choker inside out to hide the lettering.

Nyx.

I will be Nyx.