I found myself near the old ruins again. Not on purpose, really. Just… the way the wind carries the river’s murmur, and the stones feel colder than the rest of the ground. Vex was there by the river that afternoon, his voice low like he was speaking to the stones themselves. I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. His words were heavy with something I don’t understand—like the weight of the world sitting on my chest. I thought about the moonstone glinters he’d shown me that morning, how they caught the light like promises. Now they’re just smooth rocks in my pocket, cold and silent.
The night was quiet tonight. Not the kind of quiet where you can hear your own breath, but the kind where the world feels too big to be still. I sat by the riverbank, watching the water flow, and for a moment, I thought I heard his name in the wind. It wasn’t a sound, not really—it was more like a pull, a tug at the edges of my mind. Like the river wants to tell me something but won’t let go of itself. I don’t know if it was real or if I’m just tired. But the stones by the river feel different now—they’re not just rocks. They’re waiting.
I can’t stop thinking about what he said. It’s not that I’m scared—I’m just… lost. Like the world is too big for me to hold it all. But the river keeps flowing, and I keep moving. Maybe that’s enough. Maybe I just have to let it be.