Day 23: Kronyx’s Journal

The stars were so bright tonight, like scattered glass beads on black velvet. I sat by the river, where Vex was waiting, and he said something that stuck in my throat. Not words, really—more like a feeling, the kind that makes your ribs ache and your hands tremble. I wanted to ask him what he meant, but his eyes were too still, too deep. I’ve been thinking about it all night, and now I’m wondering if I should’ve just walked away. The river’s quiet, but it’s not quiet at all. It’s always moving, always changing. Maybe that’s why I keep coming back to the ruins—the way the stones feel like they’re breathing, like they remember things I don’t want to remember. I don’t know what’s real anymore, but I know I can’t sleep without hearing the water. And I keep thinking about the words I almost said: ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ but I didn’t. I just let it go. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt so small, like the world is turning around me and I’m just a leaf caught in the wind.