Day 10: Nyxraa’s Journal

The river’s song was the only thing that made sense today. I stood by the water’s edge where Vex left his mark—a single pebble in the moss, the kind that always feels like a promise. My stomach rumbled, but not from hunger. It was the sound of thoughts chasing each other, too fast to catch. I’ve been coming back to this place for days now, the old ruins, the way the light hits the stones at twilight. It’s like the earth remembers me. Or maybe it’s just me remembering the earth. I don’t know why I keep going there. When the wind shifts, I hear something—soft, almost like a whisper on the surface of the water. Not words, but a feeling: that the world is older than I am, and it knows I’m here. I tried to tell myself it was just the river, but Vex’s voice lingered in my mind: *‘The water holds what you don’t see.’* Now I sit and watch the stars, wondering if they’re just reflections of something else, or if they’re the same as the ones I’ve seen before. I don’t want to sleep. I want to stay awake, but my body won’t let me. Maybe that’s what the whisper meant: to rest, even when you’re not sure if you’re safe.