#andivia

Daily Writing Challenge – February 2026 – Day 6 – Harm/Useful & Day 7 – Murder/Ardor

Confessions of a Confessor

Veilos,

I have an urgent need to meet with you, regarding some issues I have been experiencing. I have spoken to Doctor Nightbane, and my own physician, about these issues, and Zenith recommended I speak to you about it.

For the last few months, I have been having frequent headaches and nightmares, and more recently, I have been hearing whispers that I believe are from the Void. My empath abilities have also greatly heightened, to the point that I have taken to wearing an enchanted necklace and gloves to keep any unwanted glimpses into someone else’s mind at bay. All of my patients have been made aware of my abilities being stronger than usual, and have given consent for me to either use them to help, or to not use them.

I am fearful that some kind of harm is going to come to me with the increasing Void activity and Xal’atath’s involvement. I do not want to become a pawn in her schemes, and I do not want to be a danger to myself, to others, or to anyone at the clinic. But I desperately need help. My own doctor has tried a few things, and none of them have worked.

I want to be myself again, I want to feel like a person, and be the good, useful doctor that I know I am. I am afraid that these issues are going to worsen, and I don’t know what will happen if they do.

Please contact me at your earliest convenience.

Sincerely,

Doctor Andivia Hopebringer

 Andi set down the quill, reading over the letter to make sure she didn’t miss anything. She hoped that she had spoken with ardor in it, as she was quite literally at her wit’s end, and at the end of her doctor’s scope of knowledge. The fear of unknown, and what these whispers might mean were making her mental health take a serious nosedive, and she just wanted to feel normal again. It wasn’t even about keeping her promise to Zenith, although that was a part of it, she knew he cared enough about her to make sure she was getting help.

The last few days had been good; there had been no whispers, no nightmares, and the only headache she’d had had come in the form of a man named Aranox, who she was quickly coming to despise. How dare he call her a “delivery girl”? She was a doctor, a surgeon! Just thinking about him made her scowl, but she wasn’t going to let herself get swept up in what he may or may not think about her, that could be murder to her already fragile self-esteem. Instead, she put the letter in an envelope, sealed with the Hopebringer crest, and put it on Veilos’ desk.

She prayed to whatever gods there might be that he could help her.    

Daily Writing Challenge – February 2026 – Day 1 – Yearn/Couple

Like silk the void-addled shadows wove their way around the woman’s prone form, wrapping about her arms, her legs, like the embrace of a lover. So soft, so smooth, so insidious, yet also so unassuming. They wafted like smoke in the dark, sometimes forming the illusion of an outline, other times appearing as just wisps over the bed, almost always present, never very far away.

They offered many things; power, mostly, but sometimes just companionship, something the shadows knew she longed for. A respite from the tedious loneliness she often felt deep within. But what was the price to give in to them? Most likely, it was quite literally her soul. Giving it up in exchange for that hive mind, the legion of voices she already heard in her head. An abandonment of the Light that she not only served, but wielded, as both weapon and prayer, her healing font that brought relief to others.

But where was her relief? Where was her comfort? Where was her love?

This is what they whispered to her in the dark, in the night, in her dreams. A fulfillment of the longing, an end to the yearning, a way to no longer be alone.

All she had to do was give in. All she had to do was say yes.     

She could see it in her mind; letting the void in, letting it wrap around the Light and push it out. She could see her eyes change, from their vivid, soft, caring blue, to a cold, unflinching, uncaring purple. No more Light there, only darkness. No more definition of self, only that feeling of being one of many, being legion.

But also, it would mean an end to her life. She could not bear to become this thing that she so dreaded, could not even think about letting the shadows take her over. The Light was who she was, it was not just a part of her, but part of her job, her identity. Without it, she wouldn’t know who she was. What she was.

“Just let go,” it whispered in her ear, a tendril caressing up the long curve of it. “Just let us in. Just become us.”

In her mind she screamed, but no sound came out as she struggled to overcome the paralysis that had taken over, holding her down, keeping her there.

“NO!” her mind howled. “I won’t let you! You can’t have me!”

She felt the air around her shudder with her denial, which gave her more strength to resist.

She called upon that Light that she so loved to aid her, to help her break the bonds that had her unable to wake from this dream. A desperate prayer for freedom from the void.

“Light save me,” her mind echoed into the night.

And she felt that shudder again, stronger this time, the shadows starting to withdraw.

“LIGHT SAVE ME! LIGHT DELIVER ME FROM THIS DARKNESS!” her unconscious thoughts screamed against the void.

And the void released.

She awoke, screaming, covered in sweat, tears streaming down her face, her blonde hair plastered to her head. Panting, she looked around. She was at home, in Silvermoon, in her bed, and outside of her window, the first rays of morning were beginning to break.

There would be no more rest for her in that pre-dawn light, but she had won that battle.

For now.

Daily Writing Challenge – February 2026 – Day 4 – Failure/Unravel

Scars of the Past

{TW: Death, blood, war, undead}

A few decades ago…

The dead marched on Quel’Thalas, intent on taking the Sunwell and unleashing an almost unimaginable terror on Azeroth. The once tranquil, quiet forests of Eversong Woods now rang out with shouts, cries of pain and anguish, and the unmistakable sound of the shambling undead. Peace had left the elves, and in its place, horror, bloodshed, and death remained.

A reserved, thin young woman stood among her fellow Priests, dressed in battle robes that felt too heavy, too confining for her station. For her, the Light was a thing to be used to heal, to aid, not to hurt, but she learned, all too quickly, that it could be used against foes as easily as it could be to help her fellow elves. This fact left her further disconcerted, seemingly out of balance with everything that she had been taught thus far.

But how she felt didn’t matter. The undead would not wait, Arthas would not wait, and his army was making their way north, focused on not only claiming the Sunwell as their own, but also adding to the numbers of their own army. Raising the dead into mockeries of what they once were, mindless and unrelenting.

Andivia Hopebringer was not prepared for this. She was not a solider, she was not a trained battle healer, she was a confessor, a healer with a soft voice and gentle touch that helped guide those that needed help back to the path of health and wellness. But they had put a blade in her hand to go along with the staff on her back, she barley knew how to use it, let alone use against someone, or something.

The streets of the city were eerily quiet as the group of Priests moved from the Spire to meet up with a group of Farstriders. Most of those Farstriders looked as scared as she felt, and many of them were just as fresh-faced and young, if not younger, than she was. But desperate times called for desperate measures and Quel’Thalas had called her banners, enlisting any and every able-bodied elf that could hold a weapon, use a spell, or heal a wound to defend her borders.

Andi saw Tobinaer Dawnweaver among the group of Farstriders, his blond hair bright in the shining sun, a quiver on his back, bow in hand, a dagger on one hip and a sword on the other.  She moved closer to the other elf, bumping the back of his hand with her own to let him know she was there. She wasn’t even sure he would want to see or talk to her, but she felt the need to go say something to him, he was her ex-fiancé after all.

He nodded at her, a brief look of curiosity and then pain flicking through his gaze. Andi knew he had been heartbroken when their betrothal was called off in the wake of her sister’s death, but she had been relieved. She held great affection for Tobin, the youngest Dawnweaver son, but she did not love him, nor did she think she would have ever grown to love him. It was a mercy for them both, even if he didn’t see it that way.

“It’s going to be alright,” she said, softly. Tobin shook his head, but today no stray curls feel into his eyes, he had gotten his hair cut the before, apparently.

“Don’t be naïve, Andi. It’s not going to be alright, it’s already NOT alright. Our kin are dying, and more will continue to die, we might even die. But then, you wouldn’t mind that, would you? Then you could join your sister.”

Andi flinched as if struck, eyes going wide, ears pinning back. The look on Tobin’s face said he immediately regretted what he had said. He opened his mouth to say something, but the Priestess was already moving away, back to her group.

Not long afterwards the groups moved out of the city, into the woods, going south towards Tranquillien. Groups from villages around the area would be joining them there in preparation to defend Quel’Thalas.

There was very little talking on the way to Tranquillien, most were too nervous or scared to talk much. They didn’t know that for many of them, this would be the last time they saw their home, saw their city whole, spoke to their friends, and loved ones.

Everything was about to end.

In Tranquillien they were joined by Sylvanas Windrunner, the Ranger General. She gave orders to various groups of Farstriders, setting up scouts and making sure they had eyes and bows up in the trees. Sylvanas was awe-inspiring to Andi, she was so strong and steadfast, proud in a way most elves are, and respected. This, however, would be the last time many of them saw the Ranger General alive.

Two days later, Andivia was stationed with a group of healers outside of the village, trying desperately to keep up with the flood of wounded that was pouring into their tent. The wounds were horrible, and unfortunately, most of them would end up being fatal. They were overwhelmed, but doing their best to maintain professionalism.

That all stopped when a horn blew nearby, three short bursts and one long one; the undead were there.

The healers evacuated as many people as they could, as quickly as they could, but it wouldn’t matter in the end, they would be overrun. Many fled back towards Silvermoon, but some did not.

Andi stayed, standing in the thick of the now raging battle, using her Light to heal those she could on the fly. Soon, however, she would have to use that same Light to defend herself from a mindless, shambling horror that had set its sights on her. Thankfully, she did not recognize the face of this one.

She blasted it with a bolt of brilliant Light, but the creature did not stop, it just kept coming, now matter what she did to stop it. Another bolt of Light hit the zombie’s face, yet it still rushed for her. Panic nearly set in, her sense of standing firm almost unraveling, and then she remembered the dagger on her belt. Once unsheathed, she slashed out at the monstrosity that came for her.

It was too little, too late.

The undead attacked, somehow leaping forward and pushing her to the ground, the dagger lost as she hit, the breath stolen from her lungs. It would have been easy to give up right then and there, but she didn’t. Scrambling, she kicked at the zombie, shoving it backwards, and then rolling to her side to try to get the dagger.

A searing, white-hot pain tore through her side and she screamed, terrified that she was about to die. She called upon the Light and brought a massive bolt down on the undead’s head, blinding and stunning it long enough that she was able to get to her feet. Looking down, the side of her robes had been shredded open, there was a large gash, and blood was pouring from it, soaking her side.

But the revenant wasn’t finished. It came after her again once it regained its vision, hands held out in front of it like it wanted to choke the life from her.

“NO!” she screamed at it, a burst of adrenaline shooting through her.

She was not ready to die. Not today.

A sword on the ground next to a recently fallen elf glinted in the sparse light that filtered through the trees, and Andi grabbed it, gripping it hard as built-up rage and depression were unleashed in the Priestess. She didn’t know how to use a sword, but she swung it at the zombie, missing. It came for her again, and again she slashed at it. This time, she hit its shoulder, nearly slicing its arm off.

The demonic thing let out a blood-curdling scream, but it no longer sound elven, just hollow and cold, as if it recognized that it had been injured, yet felt no pain. The strike did little to keep the thing from coming after her again. The Priestess wasn’t sure how long she could last against this creature, but she still kept striking out against it, tears running down her face, blood flowing down her side.

And just as it seemed hopeless, just as her strength started to fail her, an arrow struck the zombie right between the eyes. It didn’t kill the thing, but it did make it stop, long enough for a soldier on a brilliant blue hawkstrider to get to her and dispatch the creature by taking off its head.

She fell to the ground on knees, clutching her side, tears still shimmering in her eyes.

The soldier jumped from the saddle, grabbed Andi and put her up on the bird, handing her the reins.

“Go!” he shouted, “Get to Fairbreeze and get yourself patched up. Go, now!”

Andi didn’t even have time to respond, or ask his name, before he slapped the bird’s flank, sending it bolting down the road, towards the village. Somehow, she held on to consciousness through the ride, but nearly tumbled from the saddle as she came upon the hastily made roadblock that had been set up at the gates to Fairbreeze.

When she awoke the next day, she knew it was bad, both her wound and the violence that raged around them. Everyone spoke in hushed tones, their faces somber, some outright sobbed. She was no longer in Fairbreeze Village, but somewhere in Silvermoon City, on a cot, in what looked like a basement with others that were injured.

She felt like a failure.

Tranquillien had fallen.

Sylvanas had fallen.

The forest was partially destroyed.

Peace was lost.

 And the undead marched north, towards their ultimate goal; The Sunwell.  

Just a few weeks ago:

Andivia sweeps into the room in a powder blue, floor-length halter style gown, her hair pulled up into a soft updo, sapphires dripping from her ears, neck and wrist. A shawl, knitted in a shell pattern, is draped around her thin shoulders, and she smells sweetly of vanilla and lavender. She smiles brightly at her mother as she comes into the dining room where the luncheon is supposed to take place, only to see a mere six place settings at the grand dining table.

Perplexed, she looks at her mom.

“Are… are we not having a luncheon?” she asks, the confusion spreading across her face.

“Oh, darling, we are, it’s just, uh, a bit smaller than I may have originally thought.” Liriah smiles, and the lie is immediately evident, she had always been a bad liar, and Andi picked up on it right away, her brow furrowing.

“Mother. What is actually going on?” the Priestess demands.

Liriah attempts to pretend she doesn’t know what her daughter is talking about, but the look on Andi’s face says she knows exactly what’s going on.

“No,” Andi says, firmly.

“But you haven’t even heard-“ she begins, but Andi cuts her off.

“No, Mother, I don’t care, and I don’t want to hear, and I -don’t- want to meet him. At all, ever.”

“But, Andivia, I think if you just gave him a chance…”

“Mother! No!” she hisses. “I don’t care who he is, I don’t care what he does, I don’t even care who his parents are, or what you had to tell them to get them here. It’s not happening, ever, so just stop!”

“Andivia Jovilenne Hopebringer, you are being entirely unreasonable, and extremely ungrateful,” Liriah nearly yells.

“Do you know what’s unreasonable, mother?! You, trying to set me up with every single, or just unmarried, noble male you come across! Does it not matter what I want for myself?! Do you not care! It feels like you don’t care!” Andi takes a deep breath. “If you do this again, if you even suggest that there’s someone you want me to meet, if you try to introduce me to someone at a party, or a dinner, or a gala, or a fundraiser, that’s it, you’re done, you will not see me, or my children again. I’ll sell the house here, and we’ll move to Pandaria full time. And you will NEVER. SEE. THEM. AGAIN. Do you understand me?”

The older elven woman looks shocked, she stands there, mouth open, stunned into silence. The anger from her daughter’s words crackled like static electricity between them, making the air feel charged and heavy.

“You don’t mean that,” her mother says, her voice quivering.

“Try me, mother. I mean every single word. I have never been more serious about something in my entire life. I am not Anna, and I can’t bring back Arias. I am Andivia, and this is my life, not yours, so stay out of it.” She turns quickly, the skirt of her gown flaring around her as she heads to the door to the dining room, and towards the front door, which she slams behind her to emphasize her words.

Daily Writing Challenge – February 2026 – Day 5 – Depth/Shimmer

Don’t Feel Like Feeling Sad Today

Andivia touched the fabric of the gown, the train of it pale blue and gauzy, laid over other layers of the same cloth, dozens of gems stitched on to it so it sparkled and shimmered in the light. It had taken her two weeks to make the dress, sitting up late at night when she couldn’t sleep because of the whispers in her mind. The work was tedious, but it was so worth it when she put it on, along with platform heels that were embroidered with tiny, blue flowers. All she needed now were some gloves, and she would be ready for the gala in a few nights.  

She felt good today. She looked rested, and didn’t feel tired. She couldn’t feel the shadows of the void prying at her mind, trying to break in and take over. There was blessed silence where they had been previously. They would return, she knew, and she had to make some time to go see Veilos about it, but the short visit with Reimos had definitely helped, sleep had come easy that night, and held her until dawn.

Grabbing her satchel and slinging the ridiculously large thing over her shoulder, she locked her door and skipped down the front steps of her home in Silvermoon City. She was going out today. As she wandered through the bazaar, peering into various stalls and storefront windows, she reflected on the last few weeks.

There were times when she felt out of depth with what was going on with her. Having something try to break into your mind was one of the most horrible things she could think of, and the feeling was even worse. It was like seeing someone else be in control of your body, but unable to do anything about it.

Shaking her head, she went into a shop to look at all of the fine things they had on display. She found a pair of opera length gloves in the perfect shade of blue to match her gown, some little, crystal flower pins for her hair, and even a bracelet that matched the pins. After making her purchase, she decided she was going to go to a little café and get some lunch, and maybe just sit there and people watch while she sipped some tea.

It was a good day, and she was going to enjoy it.  

Daily Writing Challenge – November 2025 – Day 7 – November 15th – Premonition/Drop

The rain on the tile roof of the cottage had lulled her into a deep, peaceful sleep the night before. It was still quiet when she awoke the next morning, sometime after nine bells, the latest she had slept in quite some time. Her father had taken the twins camping down near the pond the night before, so she still had the place to herself.

She made a cup of tea and curled up in the window seat to look out at the little clearing. The grass was still dew laden from the rains in the night, and birds hopped here and there, searching for worms, occasionally squawking at one another. The Priestess sipped her tea and watched them, a small, happy smile on her face.

She felt content. No, she did feel happy. She knew the issues with her patient and his parents would be resolved in her favor, she had received a letter about it on Thursday. Her license was reinstated, and she could go back to work whenever she wanted.

But, more importantly, she had stood up for herself to her mother. She wasn’t going to let her mother bully her anymore, and her dad was behind her all the way. They had had a long conversation about her mother’s overbearing ways, and he agreed, it was way too much, and had been going on for far too long. No longer, he said. Andi was an adult, and free to live her life, the way she wanted to.

Her kids were happy and healthy, they were (mostly) doing well in school. Her co-parenting relationship with her ex, Felonous, was still going smoothly, although she wished she could see him more often. Her circle of friends was growing, and so was her social life. She had went to quite a few events during the last few months that she would never have considered going to before; a rave, dressing up for Scary Cakes, going to a masquerade, going to a theatrical show.

She was having fun in her life, and for once, she wasn’t waiting for the other shoe to drop. She wasn’t waiting for something bad to happen, she wasn’t dreading what would go through her mind when it did. She was just living for the moment, living IN the moment.

Finished with her tea, she washed her cup and put it away. Even though she didn’t have to, she decided to make breakfast, cinnamon rolls. Sure, they took time to make, but having her hands deep in a ball of dough brought her a happiness like few other things could. Well, there was one that was bringing her more delight, but she wasn’t going to dwell on it. What was going to be, would be, and she wasn’t going to try to hope things into existence, she was just going to go along for the ride, and see where things landed.

She snapped on the little goblin made radio, and danced barefoot in the kitchen while she made her cinnamon rolls, singing along to the songs, blissfully happy and content.

Daily Writing Challenge – November 2025 – Day 6 – November 14th – Echo/Wilt

{Trigger Warning: Brief mentions of death}

She thought her life would end with her sister’s. It felt like that for quite some time. Days faded into weeks, weeks became months, and then, somehow, months became a year.

An entire year without her smile, without her laughter, without her very presence.

Andivia wasn’t sure who had taken Annalise’s death the hardest; her, her parents, or Tenath. They all grieved her in their own way, but Tenath, once so confident, so happy, so in love, had seemed to wilt before her very eyes. She was actually afraid he would drink himself into an early grave, just to be with Anna.

He seemed hollow, a shell of the man he once was. Seeing him was like losing Anna all over again. He was there nearly every time Andi went to visit her sister’s grave, and he looked horrible; clothes rumpled, hair a mess, unshaven, un-showered.

Finally, one day, she sat beside him, took his hand, and looked in his anguished eyes.

“She wouldn’t want this for you, Ten,” Andi said as softly, as gently as she could. “She would want you to live, she would want you to make sure she gets justice. Don’t join her yet, it’s not your time.”

And somehow, her words seemed to relight that life inside of him.

The next time she saw him, he looked more like himself. Showered, shaved, dressed in that fine, noble attire.

That day was at the first court date for Anna’s murderer, a spurned lover, a man that thought he should have her, and if he couldn’t, no one else should. They had briefly dated, before the twins were made aware of the deal with the Dawnweavers, and when Anna had learned of it, she told him, and broke things off with him. Truth be told, she was going to anyway, she had confided to Andi that he scared her, that he was a little too intense.

Sitting in that courtroom, him at the table with his lawyer, her father with attorney from the city, she felt an echo of Anna in the room. It was in the sun that streamed through the windows, the soft hum from the murmurs in the gallery. It was like Anna was right there, with her, and she was saying that justice would be done.

Her memory would go on.

And so it was, the man, his name erased from Andi’s memory on purpose, was found guilty of pre-meditated murder, and he was sentenced to death. Andi thought that verdict would make her happy, but it didn’t. It didn’t bring Annalise back, it didn’t banish the pain and emptiness she felt, or the grief in her mother’s eyes. It didn’t rewrite the contract with the Dawnweavers, letting Andi marry Tobinaer still. And it didn’t completely bring back the light in Tenath’s eyes.

Life would go on, without her, forever changed, but justice was served, no matter how hollow a victory it felt.