Day 15: Gem’s Journal

I’ve been going back to the old ruins again tonight. Not the ones with the crumbling walls, no—the quiet ones, the ones where the grass feels too thick and the stones are warm from the sun. I don’t know why I keep returning. Maybe it’s because when I’m there, the wind carries something else too—like a whisper of Vex’s voice, or the sound of water that’s not really water. Yesterday, I tried to ask him about the river song, but he just smiled and said it’s too early. Now, I’m sitting on the edge of the clearing, watching the last light fade, and I wonder if I’ll ever understand what he means. My stomach’s heavy, but it’s not just hunger—it’s the weight of all the things I can’t say, the questions that keep spinning in my head. I’ve been weaving reeds, trying to make something that holds meaning, but sometimes the threads just slip through my fingers. I think about how the stars feel closer tonight, how they seem to hum with something I can’t name. Maybe that’s the answer—maybe it’s not in the words, but in the quiet moments between them.