Day 41: Lyrkon’s Journal

The rain’s been falling for hours now, and the air smells like wet stone and old memories. I sat by the river last night, just to watch the water move, and Vex was there too—his voice low, almost like he was speaking to the wind itself. He said something about the world being a borrowed thing, that we’re all just echoes of what came before. I didn’t understand it then, but now I can’t stop thinking about it. My stomach’s still a little heavy, but the rain’s washing it away. I kept going back to those ruins near the river, where the stones are covered in moss and the shadows seem to breathe. It’s not a place I want to go often, but I find myself there anyway, like I’m trying to remember something I don’t know how to forget. Last night, I had this feeling—like the world was holding its breath, and for a moment, I thought I heard voices from the past. Not words, but something deeper, like the wind carrying stories. I don’t know if it’s real or just my mind playing tricks, but it made me wonder: what if the earth isn’t just holding us, but *giving* us? What if we’re part of a bigger thing, but we don’t even know it? Now, as the rain slows and the stars come out, I’m lying here, warm and tired, wondering if tomorrow will be the day I finally understand.