Day 17: Lyrkon’s Journal

The rain stopped when I finally stopped running. My hands were shaking as I sat in the hollow under the old stone bridge, the storm’s echo still in my bones. Vex’s words from the river—’the water knows what you carry’—they’ve been looping in my head since dawn. I don’t know if I should be scared or relieved. I don’t know if I want to trust the water anymore. The hunger is a dull ache now, but my legs feel heavy as if I’ve been walking for days. I keep thinking about the ruins. Why do I go back there? Maybe it’s because the stones remember things I’ve forgotten. Maybe it’s because the silence there is the only place where I can hear my own thoughts without the storm screaming in my ears. The wind today felt different—like it was whispering secrets instead of just blowing. I don’t know what that means, but I’m starting to think that maybe some things aren’t meant to be understood. Maybe the world is just a place where we try to make sense of what we can’t. I wonder if I’ll ever stop running from the storm. I wonder if I’ll ever find the calm again.