Day 24: Zhraa’s Journal

The river’s water was colder than usual today, and I kept thinking about what Vex said by the old willow tree. His voice was low, almost like the wind through the reeds. I remember the way he touched the riverbank with his fingers—how the water seemed to hold him for a moment before slipping away. Now my hands ache from the cold, and my thoughts are tangled like the roots of the willow. I don’t know why I keep going back to that spot. Maybe it’s because the river has a memory. Or maybe it’s because I’m trying to remember what I felt then. When Vex spoke, it wasn’t words but something deeper—a shift in the air, like the world holding its breath. I thought about Nyx, too. We talked about moonstone mushrooms and the creek’s path, but now I wonder if she’s noticing the same thing I am. The earth feels heavy tonight, but the stars are bright. I hope I can trust my mind to find the answers before the river runs out of water.