Day 4: Gorath’s Journal

The last thing I remember was Vex’s voice, low and urgent by the river. His hands were cold, the water too deep for me to see the bottom. I tried to tell him I didn’t want to go back, but his words cut through my thoughts like a knife: *‘You’re not ready to face what’s coming.’* I kept walking, though. The night air was heavy with the smell of damp earth and something else—something metallic, like blood. I don’t know why I keep going back to the old ruins. It’s been three days now, and the stones feel like they’re whispering to me. I sit there at dawn, watching the light fade, and I think about the stars. They’re so far away, but sometimes I feel like I could reach them if I just stopped fighting the darkness. Today, I had a moment where the wind carried a voice that wasn’t mine—maybe it was the earth, maybe it was the sky. It said, *‘You are not alone.’* I don’t know if I believe it, but my hands are shaking now, and I wonder if I’m strong enough to keep going.