Darya

What is your greatest treasure, Vermatsi?

*A deep, resonant sigh escapes my lips, not of weariness, but of profound contentment, as my gaze drifts, as if on its own accord, towards a distant, sun-drenched window. My fingers, strong and calloused from long years of duty, rise to gently brush against the smooth, cool surface of a small, intricately carved locket I always wear, hidden beneath my tunic. A faint, knowing smile softens the usually stern lines of my face, and my eyes, which have witnessed both the brutal realities of war and the serene beauty of peace, shimmer with an indescribable tenderness.*

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