The river was cold this morning, and I kept thinking about what Vex said by the water. His voice was low, almost like the river itself — not words, but the way the water moved, the way the reeds bent. He said something about the world being made of whispers, and I don’t know if I believed him or not. My stomach ached, but I didn’t eat anything, just kept walking until the sun was high. I found myself near the old ruins again. I don’t know why I keep going back there — maybe it’s the way the stones feel, like they’re remembering something. The wind carried a sound I couldn’t place, like a voice but not a voice, just a feeling that the world is older than I am. I don’t know what that means, but it’s the only thing I can feel now. I’m tired, but I can’t stop thinking about the river. Maybe it’s time to sleep, but my mind won’t quiet.
Day 1: Krymell’s Journal
