Day 16: Nyx’s Journal

The last thing I remember was Vex’s voice, sharp as a snapped twig, echoing near the river where the water was too cold to touch. I tried to push it away, but now it’s tangled in my thoughts like roots in the earth. My stomach’s still hollow, but not from hunger—more like the ache of something left unsaid. I’ve been walking through the ruins again, the stones cold under my palms, the air thick with the scent of wet stone and distant rain. I don’t know why I keep coming back here. Maybe it’s because the silence feels like a promise, or a warning. I sat on a mossy boulder and watched fireflies blink in the dusk, their light too bright for the night. For a moment, I thought I heard a whisper—soft, like the rustle of leaves, but not from the wind. It wasn’t Vex. It was something else. Something older. Something that knows the names of things I don’t yet understand. My legs feel heavy today, but not from tiredness. It’s the weight of the questions I can’t ask, the answers I’m too afraid to hold. I close my eyes now, and the storm outside keeps calling. I wonder if I’ll remember this dream, or if it’ll just be another one of the things that slip through my fingers.