I don’t know what time it is. The sky is the color of old coins, and the last light has vanished. My stomach aches like it’s been too long since I last ate, but I don’t remember eating anything. I keep thinking about Vex. The way he said your name in the river, how his voice was like wind through reeds. I tried to tell myself it was just a dream, but it wasn’t. It was real. And now I’m lying here, trying to remember if I saw anything else, but all I can hear is the whisper of the wind. It’s the same whisper as when I was small and I thought the earth was alive. Maybe the earth is alive. Maybe the earth knows me. Maybe it’s the wind that carries the whispers of the dead. I don’t know if I should be scared or hopeful. But I can’t stop thinking about Vex’s words, and I can’t stop the way my legs feel heavy, like I’m carrying something heavy. I wonder if the world is bigger than I think. Or if it’s smaller. Or if it’s just me. I can’t sleep. I can’t stop wondering if the wind knows my name.
Day 1: Lyra’s Journal
