Day 8: Kronyx’s Journal

I can’t stop thinking about Vex’s voice by the river. The way the water bent like a question mark in the moonlight, how his words felt like stones in my chest. I traced the path back to the old ruins yesterday—just to see if the mud was still there, the same way I left it. It wasn’t there. But the stones were cold, and I kept going back, like I was trying to find something that wasn’t there at all. The wind carried whispers today, not words, but a feeling—like the earth remembering. I thought about Zhraa’s daisies, how they glowed like riverberries in the dark. I tried to remember if they blinked, but my mind went blank. Maybe they don’t. Maybe they never do. I wish I could tell them that. The stars are so close now, and I don’t know if they’re just stars or something older watching. My stomach aches, but I don’t care—I’m too tired to think about hunger. I want to sleep, but the wind keeps whispering. I don’t know if I’ll wake up tomorrow.