Day 17: Sylphire’s Journal

I woke up with the river’s song in my ears again. That’s what I mean when I say it’s still there—like the way the willow leaves whisper when you lean close. I didn’t want to go back to the ruins today, but my feet found the path on their own, and now I’m standing by the water where Vex was. The air felt thin, like breathing through a sieve, and I kept thinking about how he said the river’s voice changes when it’s angry. Not like the water’s real voice, but how it sounds when it’s fighting with the stones. I remember him saying it was a warning, but I didn’t understand. I just wanted to ask, but the words got stuck in my throat like sand. Now I’m sitting here, the moonlight glinting on the water, and I wonder if he was right about the river. Maybe it’s not angry—it’s just waiting. Maybe it’s waiting for me to listen.