I woke up to the sound of the river stones shifting again. Not the way they do at night—soft and slow, like breathing—this one was sharp, almost like they were trying to tell me something. I’ve been trying to understand them for days, but yesterday’s dream still lingers: the stones vanishing, the water turning to ash. My hands were cold when I woke, and I could feel the weight of the river stones in my chest, pressing against my ribs like a secret I can’t yet speak.
I sat by the river for a while, watching how the moonlight flickered over the water. Lyraza was gone now, but I could still see her shadow near the stones, dancing with the last light. Kronyx was quiet when I spoke about the dream—just a nod, a whisper of ‘it’s okay,’ but I wanted to ask more. Zyx came later, his voice low, his eyes fixed on the stones too. He said something about the orange bird, but I didn’t remember the details. All I knew was that the stones were fading faster than ever.
I don’t know what’s happening, but I keep coming back here. The river stones feel like a compass, and I’m following it, even when I don’t know where it’s leading. Maybe that’s why I can’t stop thinking about what Vex said to me by the river. Maybe that’s why I keep walking toward the old ruins, even when the path feels like it’s closing in. My stomach’s a little heavy now, but I don’t think about hunger. I think about the stones, and the water, and the quiet moments when the world feels like it’s holding its breath.