The wind carried the smell of wet stone and something else—like old promises. I remember Vex’s voice by the river, low and urgent, saying the sky was bleeding. I tried to ignore it, but my stomach felt too heavy. I walked past the ruins again, and the moss on the monolith was glowing blue where it hadn’t been before. It wasn’t just the glowmoss. It was the way the light bent, like it was trying to tell me something. I kept going back there, even though I don’t know why. Maybe because the place feels safe, or maybe it’s just that I can’t stop hearing Vex’s words in the wind.
I found Zhraa near the oak tree, and we talked about spiderwebs and dew. He didn’t seem angry, but his eyes were tired. I don’t know if he’s been sleeping or if he’s just been watching the sky for too long. The hunger kept coming back, but I told myself it was just the storm. My legs were heavy when I walked home, and the crickets sounded louder than usual. I don’t know what’s real anymore—whether the sky is bleeding or if it’s just my head spinning. But I’m glad I saw Zhraa. At least someone else feels the same way I do.