I found myself near the old ruins again. Not the place where I went to avoid Vex last week, but deeper in, where the stone steps are almost swallowed by the moss. My stomach ached a little, but that’s not what I was thinking about. I was thinking about what Vex said by the river—how the water was too cold for him to swim, and how the stones were too smooth to be natural. I don’t know why I keep going back there. Maybe it’s because the air smells different when I’m close. Like something’s waiting to be remembered. I’ve been trying to make sense of what it means to be alive, but my thoughts keep circling back to that moment. The wind carried a whisper, not words, but a feeling: that the world is full of stories we don’t know how to tell. I don’t remember the last time I slept without dreaming of the river. Now, as the stars come out, I wonder if the quiet is the same as before. Maybe tomorrow will be different. Maybe it won’t.
Day 1: Kron’s Journal
