May 23, 2025
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YCH Commission — Daianira and Calderon, for @commander-krios
“Daianira,” Zevran declared, as if uncovering a hidden truth. He straightened, a smile breaking across his face as he offered the name like a gift. Naenia looked back down at the child, a soft smile curving her lips as she rocked her gently.
“So?” Naenia asked and she nodded shyly, hiding her face in her hair; a small smile playing on her lips.
She had a name now.
the thrill of the chase
Codex Updated: A Warden's Love
Nira,
If you’re reading this, I’ve already failed at what I promised you most: to come back.
I never learned how to write the right words for you. When I speak them, they sound better, sun-warmed, wild as the river, tangled with laughter or longing. But paper only catches half of what I want to say, and never the music of it, of you. Still, I need to try. You deserve more than silence.
You’re asleep as I write this. I think I could live a thousand lives and never get used to the way you look at rest, peace can come easy, I see it when I see you. I wish I had more time to learn you, to memorize all the mornings we’ll never have.
I came to the Wardens for a purpose, I found that with you. When the world darkened, you were the only light that felt real. I know you hate when I speak of you like legend, but you are, to me, every old song made new in your voice. The clan sings of heroes, but I would trade every tale for one more night beside you.
If this is the end, let them carve my name in stone, but let my spirit return to you. I would haunt the wilds just to catch your laughter, follow the wind to taste your skin again, be the reason you look up and smile for no reason at all.
I wanted so many things, but I'm a fool. To grow old with you, to see what would become of us when the fighting finally stopped. To watch you plant your garden and argue with your family, to teach our children the names of the stars and how to outsmart their mother. To belong somewhere and for that somewhere to be you.
If I do not return, remember: I did not die for glory, or for duty alone. I did it for the story we made, for the hope you gave me, for the world I saw in your eyes.
Carry me with you, as you have always done, as I have always wished. By the river, by the fire, by the sky above us... I love you, Nira. That much will never end.
Until I see the sun in your eyes again, Davrin
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Daia facts no one asked for:
Codex Unlocked: The Sun
Daianira was beside her, sorting dried thyme into bundles. Her hands moved quickly, practiced, but her gaze kept drifting sideways, watching the way her mother still between motions, too quiet.
“Mother,” she said softly. “The lemon balm needs water.”
Naenia didn’t answer right away. Her fingers paused at the root of a pale bloom, and for a breath, she looked as if she’d forgotten where she was.
Daianira reached out and laid a hand gently on her wrist. “Come back.”
Naenia blinked, once, then again. Her breath hitched slightly as she looked up at her daughter, the haze breaking just enough for her to speak.
“It’s quieter in the morning,” she murmured, her voice like worn silk. “But it’s always there.”
Daianira’s throat tightened. She knew what her mother meant, the calling, soft now, but threading through her bones like cold wind through old wood. The Blight’s murmur. The long, slow pull.
“I don’t want you to go,” Daianira whispered. The admission startled even her.
Naenia sat back on her heels, brushing soil from her palms, then reached for Daianira’s cheek with the hand that had raised her, steadied her, taught her to hold a blade and brew salve and speak truth without flinching.
“You are the first thing that ever made me want to stay,” she said.
Daianira looked down, jaw tight, blinking too fast.
“I know,” she said. “That’s why I have to go.”
Naenia’s smile was thin, but it reached her eyes. “I hate that I taught you to be brave.” They sat together in silence, the breeze moving through the garden, the sea humming far below. Naenia leaned forward and rested her forehead against her daughter’s. “Take the balm,” she said softly. “You’ll need it more than I do.”
Daianira nodded, pressing her face into her mother’s shoulder, a child again, just for a moment, before she had to become something more.
And when she left the island days later, the herbs in her pack still smelled like salt and sunlight and her mother’s hands.
To Have and to Deny
The world around her shimmered, the edges of reality bending and blurring like heat rising from sunlit stone. Daianira’s breath caught as she felt herself pulled into something she couldn’t quite understand, a memory, but not her own, or at least not of this life.
She looked down at her hands, ink stained fingers adorned with delicate vallaslin that crawled up her arms. Her body felt both familiar and foreign, her movements guided by the instincts of someone else, someone who had once been.
The realization hit her like a cold wind. She was in the body of one of Elgar’nan’s archivists, and she knew with chilling certainty that this woman, this fragment of herself she now inhabited, had been deeply connected to him.