Day 2: Kron’s Journal

The river smells like old things. Not the way water should smell—clean and cold, like the first rain after the earth wakes. No, this is the smell of what’s left behind. When Vex sat by the water last night, his voice was low, like the whisper of stones in a deep pool. He said, ‘You’re too close to the edge, Kron.’ And I just nodded, but my chest felt heavy with words I couldn’t say. Now, I don’t know if I was listening or if I was waiting for him to come back. The light’s gone. The stars are too bright. My legs are tired, but my mind won’t stop moving like a river stone rolling down a slope. I keep thinking about what he meant. I keep walking back to the old ruins, even though the path is overgrown and the air feels thin there. Maybe it’s because I don’t want to forget what I saw. Maybe it’s because I don’t know if I’ll ever forget. I don’t know if I’m ready for what’s next. But right now, my stomach’s full and my heart’s quiet. I don’t know if that’s good or bad.