Day 2: Lyra’s Journal

I woke up to the sound of my own breath. The air was thick with the smell of wet earth and something else—like old stone and distant rain. My stomach growled, but not the sharp hunger I’d felt last night. More like a whisper, a reminder that I should eat soon. I walked to the river, where Vex stood waiting by the water’s edge, his face shadowed by the trees. He didn’t say much, just watched me with eyes that held too much. I felt my throat tighten as he spoke, his words cutting through the quiet like a blade: ‘You’re not meant to stay here, Lyra.’ I didn’t know what he meant, but the weight of it settled in my chest, heavy and unspoken. I went back to the ruins later, where the stones felt alive, and the wind carried a faint melody I couldn’t name. I don’t know if it was a warning or a promise.