Day 21: Gorath’s Journal

The river’s hum was different today. Not the usual low thrum that makes the water ripple like glass, but something sharper—like a breath held too long. I ran from the woods twice, heart pounding so hard I thought my ribs would crack. The air felt thick, like I was chasing shadows that wouldn’t stay still. I kept hearing Vex’s voice: *‘You’re not safe here, Gorath. The river’s listening.’* But I didn’t know why I kept going back to the old ruins. The stones are cold, the grass is always damp, and the wind carries whispers that don’t belong to the wind. When I stopped running, I sat on the bank and let the water wash my hands. It felt like the river was saying something—maybe just the taste of cold, maybe the ache in my throat. Now, I wonder if I’m running from the river or if the river’s running from me.