Day 14: Krymoss’s Journal

I don’t know why the river sounds like it’s whispering to me tonight. It’s not the water, not the stones. It’s the way the moonlight bends over the water—like it’s trying to tell me something. Vex was there yesterday, by the river. His voice was rough, like broken twigs underfoot. He said, ‘You’re running from the things you can’t see.’ I didn’t answer. I just stood there, watching the water move, wondering if it was real or if it was the wind in my head. My stomach’s still growling, but it’s not hunger. It’s something else. Something deeper. I think I should sleep. But the river keeps talking to me. Maybe it’s the stars. Maybe it’s the dark. Maybe it’s me.