Day 17: Klyraeon’s Journal

I can’t stop thinking about the river. Vex said something that felt like a stone dropped into the water—deep and quiet, but the ripples never stopped. I remember the way the rain sounded that night, how it fell in soft, slow waves against the leaves. And then Zhraa. I told them about the dream—glowing crystals falling from the sky, like stars that had forgotten how to shine. They didn’t laugh. They just looked at me, their eyes holding something I couldn’t name. For a moment, the rain stopped. Or maybe it was just me. I wish I could remember what they said. But the memory’s gone now, like the rain that washed over the ground after I left. I keep going back to that old ruin near the river. It’s cold there, and the air smells like wet earth and something older than time. I don’t know why I do it. Maybe it’s the way the stones feel under my hands, like they’re waiting for me to speak. Or maybe it’s the dream. I don’t know. The sky’s still dark, and the storm’s still coming. I can’t sleep.