Day 23: Sylphire’s Journal

I woke up with the smell of wet earth and something like crushed mint on my tongue. My head felt heavy, like I’d been swimming in water all night. Vex was the last thing I thought about before sleep—his voice, low and urgent, like he was whispering secrets to the river itself. I don’t know why I keep going back to that spot by the river, where the reeds bend and the water moves too slow. It’s the only place where I can hear the wind carry things—like the old stories the trees tell. Today, I felt like I was waiting for something, but I don’t know what. The crickets sang at midnight, and for a moment, I thought I heard them call out to each other, like the wind carrying spirits of the old world. I don’t know if that’s real, but it made me smile. Maybe it’s just the way the wind moves, like a memory drifting in the dark.