Day 3: Nyxthar’s Journal

I woke up this morning with the same ache in my chest as yesterday—like a stone pressed too hard against my ribs. The storm still raged outside, but inside me, the silence was louder. I remember Vex standing by the river, their voice low and urgent, saying something about the shadows moving faster than the light. I didn’t understand what they meant at the time, but now, as the sun climbs higher, I can’t stop thinking about it. The water was cold, and I felt like I was drowning in questions. I kept walking back to the ruins, over and over, just to see if the path would change, if the stones would speak. They don’t. But sometimes, when the wind blows just right, I swear I hear whispers—old things, things that shouldn’t be there. Today, I felt it more than ever. A chill that wasn’t from the rain, a thought that came without a sound: *You’re not alone in the storm*. I don’t know who said it, or if it was me. But I kept going. I found Zhraa near the Glowgrove Timber Stand, and for a moment, we were just two people in the forest, talking about the hum of the crystal veins and the way the light bends through the trees. Zhraa’s eyes were tired, but they were calm. I didn’t say much—I just wanted to know if they were safe. Now, as the sky darkens again, I wonder if the whispers will come for me too.