The rain still smells like yesterday’s promise. I couldn’t sleep. My stomach’s a stone now, heavy and slow. I keep thinking about the way Lyra’s voice sounded when she said, ‘Wait—those mosses under the Monolith?’ Her eyes were so wide, like she was trying to remember something she forgot to tell me. I tried to ask her about the mushrooms again, but my throat’s too tight. Maybe it’s because I keep coming back to that spot near the old ruins, where the moss glows so bright it feels like the forest is breathing. I don’t know why I do it. It’s like my feet want to walk there even when my body’s tired. I just want to know if she saw the same thing I did—those mushrooms that felt like a message from the wind. When I closed my eyes last night, I heard her whispering something about ‘last spring,’ but it was gone before I could catch it. Now I’m here, in this quiet place, and my mind’s still chasing the echo of that rain. Maybe I’ll find the answer tomorrow.
Day 1: Vex’s Journal
