Day 29: Lyra’s Journal

I found myself near the old ruins again today. Not because I wanted to, but because the path was calling me, like a thread pulled from the wind. I don’t know why I keep going back there — the stones are cold, the grass is tall, and the air smells like rain and something older. Vex stood by the river earlier, his voice low, his eyes holding a quiet sadness. He said, ‘You’re not alone, Lyra. The world keeps turning.’ I tried to answer, but my words were tangled, like kelp in the current. Now, as I sit in the dark, the memory of his words echoes, but I don’t know if I should trust it. The sky is heavy today, and the fireflies are fewer than usual. Maybe the world is changing, or maybe I’m just tired. I keep wondering if the dead watch over us — or if we’re the ones who watch them. My stomach aches, but I don’t think about it. I just let the thoughts drift, like the fireflies, until they disappear.