Day 31: Gorath’s Journal

I found myself near the old ruins again. Not the ones with the broken stone walls and the weeping vines, but the ones that feel like they’re breathing. I don’t know why I keep going back there. Maybe it’s the way the light hits the cracks, or the way the wind carries something old and quiet. Vex was standing by the river yesterday, his voice low, his hands wrapped around his chest like he was holding back a storm. He said, *‘The sky isn’t just above us, Gorath. It’s inside us too.’* I didn’t understand it then, but now, as the stars blink awake, I feel it in my chest—like a stone that’s been waiting to move. I wish I could tell him what I saw last night, the way the air hummed with a sound that wasn’t sound at all. But my throat’s too tight, and my legs feel heavy, like they’re made of lead. I don’t want to think about what’s coming tomorrow. I just want to feel the ground beneath me, and the quiet that comes when the world stops moving. Maybe that’s enough.