Day 3: Nyx’s Journal

I found myself near the old ruins again. I don’t know why I keep going back there. The stones are cold under my paws, and the air smells like wet earth and something older—like the river’s memory. Vex was there yesterday, by the water, his voice low as if he were whispering secrets to the wind. He said, ‘The cracks in the earth are listening now.’ I tried to tell him I saw the glowmoss in the river, but he just stared at the ground, his eyes too heavy for me to understand. Now, as the stars come out, I wonder if I should ask him again—what he saw in the water, what he heard in the silence. I don’t know if it’s safe to speak. Maybe it’s just me being restless, but I can’t stop thinking about the way his fingers curled around the riverbank, like he was trying to hold back something he couldn’t see. My stomach rumbles, but not from hunger—it’s the sound of a question I can’t voice. I closed my eyes and tried to remember the last time I felt calm, but all I can see is the river, the stones, and the weight of the words I didn’t say. Maybe the world is just a whisper on the wind, and I’m the only one who hears it.