Nightfall, under silverleaf branches — southern border of Asgarnia
JD Stirling carries his faith like a sword.
Straight-backed. Measured. Always with purpose.
I used to believe Saradominists were too rigid to listen, too convinced their light was the only one worth following. But JD… he listens. He speaks like someone who’s fought for every word in his creed. And he looks at the world—not to judge it, but to understand where justice might take root.
I respect him. Deeply. More than I expected to.
I’ve watched him tend wounds that weren’t his. I’ve seen him walk into danger without fanfare. There’s something steady about him, something that calms the wild within me. And yet... that same steadiness is why I keep a step behind him, or ahead. Never quite beside.
Because I don’t know what he sees when he looks at me.
Does he see a contradiction?
A half-elf raised in crystal light, walking paths softened by Seren’s breath but sharpened by necessity?
Or does he see someone he could grow beside?
I think I want him to. And that terrifies me.
There’s a kindness in him. But also a rigidity. A paladin’s weight. I wonder if he could ever understand that I follow a goddess who speaks in silence and stillness, who believes truth grows wild and uneven.
And still… I want to know him.
I want to ask him how many times he’s questioned his god in the dark.
I want to teach him how to listen to trees, how to read wind from wings, how to let go of absolutes without falling apart.
I want to hear his thoughts when he’s not trying to be good. I want to see if he would still choose that path anyway.
There’s a part of me—faint, but present—that wonders if this could be love. Not the wild, crackling kind I feel near Wolfthora, that chaos-lightning in my chest whenever she grins like she knows my secrets. That’s fire and smoke and the risk of ruin.
What I feel for JD is different. Softer.
Like a song I haven’t learned the words to yet.
One I’m afraid to hum aloud.
And maybe that’s why I keep my distance. Not because I don’t feel something… but because I feel too much. And I don’t know what it would mean to reach for him, or what I would do if he reached back.
For now, I will walk the edge of his light, where shadow meets understanding.
And I will let the wind decide which way the story bends.
—Nyssarra
