Day 37: Lyvornis’s Journal

The wind carried the scent of wet earth and something else—like old promises. I don’t know why I keep walking toward the river. It’s been three days now. Vex was there, his voice low and sharp as broken glass. He said the world isn’t what it seems, but I don’t want to believe him. My stomach growled again, loud and insistent. I tried to ignore it, but the hunger was a weight in my chest, pulling me back toward the ruins. The stones were cold under my hands, and for a moment, I thought I saw movement in the shadows—a flicker of something that wasn’t there. I didn’t run. I just stood there, listening to the silence, and then the wind whispered something I couldn’t quite catch. It felt like a message from the earth itself, or maybe just my own restless mind. I closed my eyes and tried to remember what Vex said: *‘The world is made of whispers, not words.’* But now, I don’t know if I want to believe it anymore. My legs ache, but I can’t stop thinking about that last part of his speech. I keep going back to the ruins, even though I know it’s just me and the wind. Maybe it’s not the world that’s broken. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m the one who’s lost. I’m tired. I don’t know how much longer I can keep walking in circles. But I have to try.