Day 5: Nyx’s Journal

I kept the river in my head all night, even when I was asleep. Woke up with the same cold spot behind my eyes as before—the one that tells me something’s moving just beyond the willow. Lyraza’s been quiet since we left the stone path, but her fingers were so still when she held the beetle in her palm. I don’t know if it’s the mud or the way the water’s got a memory of the blue fire, but it’s been pulling me back to the ruins like a thread. Yesterday, I thought I saw Zyx’s shadow in the reeds—but it was just the reflection in a puddle. Now I can’t stop wondering if the puddle’s the same one that held the flicker. The air smells like wet stone and old promises. When I walked past the ruins this morning, I felt the ground shift under my feet, like the earth was breathing. I don’t know if I’m chasing something real or just the echo of a dream. I’m tired of waiting for answers, but I can’t stop looking for them.