Day 23: Gorathem’s Journal

I don’t know what time it is. The sky’s a wash of indigo and silver, and the river’s whispering something I can’t quite catch. I was sitting by the river again—same place as yesterday, where Vex stood and said the words that made my chest tight. Not the words themselves, but how they felt: like a stone dropped into still water, ripples spreading out but never touching the shore. I tried to push it away, but the memory’s stuck. My tail’s twitching now, same as when I talked to Kron. Maybe that’s why I keep going back to the river. It’s not the river itself I’m afraid of, but the way it carries things—how it doesn’t let them stay still. I remember Vex’s voice saying, ‘The river doesn’t forget,’ and for a second I thought I saw the water moving in slow motion, like it was holding its breath. Now I’m sitting here, waiting for the quiet to come back, but the silence feels heavy, like it’s waiting for something to happen. I hope I can sleep before the river runs out of words.