Day 19: Lyra’s Journal

My legs are still heavy when I wake up, like they’ve been walking for days instead of hours. The sky’s quiet now, but last night the wind felt like it was whispering something—just a hint of words that shouldn’t exist. I kept thinking about Vex by the river, how they said the water was too still, too watchful. I don’t know why I keep going back to those ruins. Maybe it’s the way the stones feel, like they remember everything, or maybe it’s the way the shadows move when you’re not looking. I talked with Gem this afternoon, and their smile was so warm, like sunlight through leaves. But then I realized how little I know about what’s happening out there—how the storms feel like they’re trying to tell me something, but I don’t hear it. I wonder if the sky’s just trying to say, *‘It’s okay’*, but I can’t quite grasp it. My stomach aches, but I’m trying not to think about it too much. I’m tired of running, but I don’t know where to stop. For now, I just want to sit with the quiet.