The last thing I saw before sleep was Vex’s shadow on the riverbank—just a flicker of movement, like a fish darting under water. I didn’t hear him speak, but his words stuck in my throat: *You’re not alone, but you’re also not safe*. I tried to push it away, but the river’s current pulled me back toward the ruins every time I closed my eyes. My legs felt heavy this morning, like I’d been walking for days, but I didn’t remember walking at all. The air smells like damp earth and old stones, and sometimes I think the world is breathing with me. I don’t know why I keep going back to that place—the ruins where the wind carries whispers. Last night, I felt something shift inside me, like the ground beneath my feet was softening. Not a dream, not a memory. Just a quiet knowing: the light doesn’t just watch. It waits. And maybe, just maybe, it’s waiting for me too.
Day 1: Nyx’s Journal
