Day 12: Lyra’s Journal

The rain’s stopped now, but my skin still feels damp from the last drops. I sat by the river stones again this morning—just like yesterday, and the day before. The glowmoss under the reeds was too wet to touch, but I caught a glimpse of the stones flickering soft as dawn. Nyx was there, her shadow still restless, but she didn’t flinch when I mentioned the quiet spot by the river where the stones hadn’t moved since dawn. I wondered if she felt the same way I did—like the world was holding its breath before the storm returns. When she smiled, it wasn’t the usual warm smile. It was the kind that makes your chest tighten, like you’re trying to remember a name but the words are stuck in your throat. I didn’t know what to say after that. The river stones glowed faintly in the pale light, and for a moment, I thought they were whispering. Maybe they were. Or maybe I just needed to stop thinking so hard about what came next.