Stories from RhyDin & The Rings

I can't help this awful energy.
Goddamn right, you should be scared of me
Who is in control?


Nightmares were few and far between, her mind usually a quiet place when she rested. Until recently her thoughts rarely ventured to the tarnished parts of her past. Until recently her heart rarely beat for more than just new blood shed. Everything used to be so easy. A point and kill attack dog, no questions asked. Faeryl held a moral compass that was stuck on south, until recently. Simplicity fell away when starlight broke through her pitch black darkness, blinding and brilliant in shades of burnt hazel. Those stars aligned so many of her broken pieces, unknowingly stirring memories that were better left six feet under and waiting for her to join them in the grave. Remorse was not something the murderous, little drow was used to. The way it ever so quietly crept into the hollow places of her heart and left her reeling whenever she was alone. Please, stop! She was never allowed to stop, and now the guilt wouldn't either.

Wet, sickening pops of flesh being ripped and torn played behind closed eyes. She could smell the bitter stink of copper, fresh and heavy in the air as if she was really there. It never used to make her sick to her stomach, so why did she feel bile burn at the back of her throat now? She could hear them begging for their lives, pleading for some semblance of mercy from the monster that had broken into their home. The mortal screamed for her obsidian skinned love, her heart and her soul ripped to shreds along with him. The woman was meant to drowned in her sorrow laced trauma and Faeryl never questioned why. In Lolth's name. was the only reason she needed, blinded by a faith that would some day be her own undoing. Those wide, sky blues full of terror had always been buried in the deepest parts of her psyche, forgotten but never gone. Until recently. The marionette could do nothing but dance as her strings were pulled. A waltz of deadly precision, free of mercy and ripe with passion. The blood ran thick and plentiful that night, a mosaic of gore that was carved into her soul as violently as her blade carved into him.

Screams that had once been her favorite melody left her soaking with sweat and gasping for air as she woke, the space between nightmare and reality entangled. The sound that left her lips was a pathetic thing - half scream, half sob that threatened to choke her as it cut through the dark of her room. She was thankful the bed beside her was empty, grateful that she wouldn't be heard as panting breaths gave way to shuddering, painful sobs. Rubies were left to drown in the river of regret that poured from them, an unrelenting flood that only the shadows would bear witness to. She wasn't sure how long she curled into herself, giving in to the well of emotion that had become too much to ignore. Minutes or hours simply didn't matter, the soft chirping of birds outside the only indication that any time had gone by at all. Faeryl shifted from the bed, her legs weak beneath her and her delicate frame trembling as she made her way into the bathroom. The harsh light from above stung those bloodshot eyes, squinting against the reflection staring bar at her. The dark elf didn't recognize the woman in the mirror, expecting to see a monster instead of tear stained cheeks and puffy eyes sore from crying. She couldn't decide what she would have hated seeing more, the mess in front of her or the murderer she was forced to be. Regardless, anger struck true in the pit of her chest, burning through the lingering sorrow that clung desperately to her heart strings. An anger that should have felt good for all its familiarity but, did nothing to quell the storm inside her.

Her fist met glass before she knew what she was doing, the mirror shattering beneath the force of it. She barely felt the way the shards of broken glass tore through the flesh of her knuckles and buried deep with each slam of her fist that followed. Even after there was nothing left staring back at her she couldn't seem to stop, not until bones cracked and the pain finally seared its way through the rage burning inside her. The tears had sneaked their way back, burning hot at the corners of her eyes with each raspy, choked sob that rattled its way out of her. Until recently she had never felt anything quiet like this and she couldn't decide if she was better or worse for it. Eventually she managed to crawl out of the pit she'd fallen into, her knuckles cleaned and her broken handed bandaged but, her heart still ached something wicked in her chest.




I'm bigger than my body
I'm colder than this home
I'm meaner than my demons
I'm bigger than these bones

Nightmares weren't supposed to happen when you're awake.
Wakefulness was meant to be an escape from the all consuming terror that had slowly worked it's way into her mind nearly every time she closed her eyes. The flashes of terrified faces,the begging and the screaming...none of it should have followed her into consciousness. You clearly aren't drunk enough.. There was only so much peace at the bottom of a bottle and she had yet to really find it, sip after sip did nothing to lessen the panic that dug it's claws deep into the pit of her chest, vice like around her heart, and she was positive it was going to squeeze the life right out of her. It would have been a terrible end but, at least she might have found some solace from the memories churning inside her nearly every day. They were nothing but a bloody amalgamation of all the terrible things her hands had ever done, whether by her own accord or not, the blood was still forever stained on her palms and caked under her nails. No amount of scrubbing would ever free her of that, she would always see the stains of her regret as clear as day, mocking her for her weaknesses. Bleary, tear-soaked reds dropped to those pathetically shaking hands, clenching and unclenching her fists as if that might help calm the way they quivered uncontrollably. No amount of deep breaths seemed to calm the frantic pounding of her heart or the way she felt as if she was suffocating. That room felt incredibly small and void of air but, she had nowhere else to try and hide from herself.

The fine line between the present and the past was blurry and she could feel herself teetering dangerously atop it, with nothing to catch her fall. There isn't a damn thing you can do to change the past. A past she felt like she might choke on, a past that was hemorrhaging from all the deepest parts of her mind where she hoped it might remain forgotten. Why here? Why now? Faeryl knew meeting that damn pirate had changed her irreversibly, she just didn't realize it would dredge up all of the things she hated about herself along with all the happiness he stirred inside her.

Just friendly reminders of what a monster you really are. Wait until he realizes it..

Gods, she just wanted to crawl out of her own skin and scrub her soul clean from the inside out. If she could purge her wrong doings maybe she would have felt better, just dump them into a shallow grave and set them on fire in hopes that maybe they would burn her up with them. There was a defeated glance towards her phone to check and confirm she had run out of time to feel sorry for herself. Shuddering, harsh breaths were forced to slow, even if her pulse didn't get the memo. She could fake okay, there were years of practice under her belt, years of glaring so no one saw beneath the surface. Everything would be just fine as long as no one was paying attention.