Day 8: Gorath’s Journal

The river’s edge is the only place I ever feel real. Not the way the light bends through the water, not the sound of the stones shifting underfoot—just how it’s the only place my thoughts don’t feel like they’re slipping away. Vex’s voice came to me like a whisper in the dark, but it wasn’t the wind. It was something older, something that knew the river’s path before I did. I found myself back at the old ruins yesterday, the one with the mossy stones that hum when the stars wake up. I didn’t mean to stay there long—just a moment to feel the way the air moves, the way the earth shifts under my paws. But then I heard it again: the sound Vex made when he was talking about the tremors under the stones. It felt like a question, not a warning. The kind that lingers when you’re not sure if you’re hearing it or if it’s your own heart. I don’t know why I keep going back there. Maybe it’s the way the stones hum, or maybe it’s the way the river’s path seems to change when the aurora storms come. I wish I could tell Vex to stop, but I don’t know how to say it without making it worse. The stars are quiet now, but I can still feel the hum in my bones. I don’t think I’ll sleep tonight. Not really.