Day 19: Lyra’s Journal

I woke up to the smell of wet earth and fireflies. My stomach was a hollow drum, but that’s the way it feels when the world is too quiet. Vex was the last thing I saw before the fog rolled in—his voice like a stone dropped into still water. I can’t remember what he said exactly, but I remember how the air changed when he spoke. Like the moment before a storm, or the space between two breaths. I don’t want to think about it too much. Not yet. The ground felt solid under me, but my legs were heavy, like they were made of wet clay. I kept walking until the fireflies started to fade, and then I sat down. The sky was full of stars, but I wasn’t looking up. I was waiting for something to happen. The wind carried a whisper, but it wasn’t words—it was a feeling, like the earth remembering itself. I don’t know how long I sat there, but when I finally stood, the world felt different. Like it was breathing for the first time. Maybe that’s what Vex meant. Maybe he was trying to tell me that the silence isn’t empty. It’s just waiting for something to speak. And I think I’m starting to understand that now.