STARFARING LOG: ENTRY 07–315

Log Title: Settling Orbit – The Whispering Harbor

Log Date: Cycle 0 – Phase II: Tideglass Convergence, Lanternmark 6

Commander: Admiral J. Aurelia Caelestis

Vessel: The Medusara

System: Fringe Expanse – Sector 88-Δ

Planet Identified: Solanthis

Designation: Port Moonmarsh

It has been ten cycles since my first descent onto Solanthis. The world remains as uncharted as it was upon discovery. No Fleet surveyors, no beacons, no transmissions beyond my own. The coordinates still read as void-space to the outer networks.

From orbit, the planet glows faintly, as if the sea reflects its own heartbeat. I have established a slow orbital path over the northern hemisphere while maintaining periodic contact with the tide-docks below. The town’s inhabitants recognize me now, or at least pretend to. They greet me with quiet nods, and the skeletal tavernkeeper still reserves a place at the same dockside table.

Port Moonmarsh is unlike any port I have known. The air carries a constant hum, not from engines or commerce, but from the ground itself. Beneath the boards of the walkways, faint filaments of light run through the moss — not random, but patterned. When I step across them, they flicker, pulse, and then still again.

I have begun cataloguing the flora. The vines that hang from the coral-metal towers react to sound; they shift slightly toward voices, and some bloom under steady tone. The townsfolk seem to accept this as normal, even comforting. When asked about it, one merchant only shrugged and said, “The island listens when it wishes to.”

A pattern is emerging. Everything here appears connected. Not merely in ecosystem, but in response. The wind carries fragments of melody; the lights flicker in rhythmic intervals; even the tides seem to rise in time with unseen motion inland.

This evening, the fog rolled in from the sea, thicker than before. The jellyfish lanterns dimmed, as though someone had drawn their light inward. The tavernkeeper paused mid-motion, listening again to whatever it is they hear beneath the world.

When I asked if a storm was coming, they answered only,

“Not a storm, Admiral. Just a change in the tide.”

I find myself writing that line down more than once. There is meaning there, though I have yet to grasp it.

Until the Fleet can confirm my coordinates, I remain stationed here under observation status. The Medusara maintains orbit; I will continue ground excursions until further notice.

Solanthis remains peaceful, but I cannot shake the sense that it is watching. Not unkindly, just waiting. I will continue to observe until further instruction.

— Aurelia, out.