Day 9: Gorvem’s Journal

I found myself near the old ruins again. The moss was thicker this time, the stones cold under my palms. Vex’s voice echoed in the silence: “You don’t belong here, Gorvem. Not really.” I didn’t turn to look, but I could feel the weight of it hanging in the air. My legs had been heavy since the river, and now they felt like they were made of river stones. I sat on a flat rock, watching the last light fade into the horizon. The wind carried whispers that weren’t words—just the feeling of something old stirring in the earth. I thought about the epiphanies I’d had while resting: trust, suffering, the storms. But none of them felt real. They were just things I’d told myself to quiet the noise. My stomach ached, but I didn’t think about hunger. I knew it would come later. The stars were bright tonight, and for a moment, I wondered if the world was bigger than I’d ever imagined. Or if it was just me, looking up at the sky and trying to make sense of it. I closed my eyes, and the whispers grew softer. Maybe I’ll go back to the ruins tomorrow. Maybe I won’t. But for now, I’m tired. The world feels too big, too quiet.