I found myself near the old ruins again. Not today, but the way my feet carried me back there—like the wind was whispering a secret only the ground knows. Vex was sitting by the river that morning, his hands stained with river silt, watching water ripple over stones. He didn’t say much, just nodded when I passed, but I could feel the weight of what he didn’t say. His voice was quiet, but it lingered in the way the shadows moved around me. I think I’ve been going back there since I first saw the glowing crack in the earth—like it’s calling me, but I don’t know why. I don’t know what I’m chasing, but my hands feel heavy with the memory of that conversation, the way the river carried his words away. I tried to tell myself it was just the wind, but it’s not. The stones are cold under my feet, and the water sounds like a promise I can’t keep.
Day 1: Lyra’s Journal
